#instead of trying to hide it and be as perfect as possible

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter eleven: The Hunt Begins

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13

The atmosphere in the VIP room had shifted into something far heavier, something that felt like it could suffocate you if you didn’t breathe carefully. The VIPs were scattered around the room, lounging on the lavish couches with glasses of expensive drinks in hand, their eyes on the large screen mounted on the wall. The air was thick with anticipation, the same kind of energy you’d feel just before a storm hit.

You could feel their gazes on you, even though you weren’t looking directly at them. You were hyper-aware of their presence, as if they were all leaning just a little closer, just a little more eager to see what would happen next. You knew they were watching you—after all, you were the spectacle of the night, just like every other game participant. The only difference was, you didn’t want to be the prize they were fighting over.

In-ho had positioned himself near the back of the room, standing close to you but not too close. His presence was both protective and commanding, as though he was a constant reminder that the games—no matter how much fun the VIPs were having—would never be something you could truly escape. Even here, with all the plush luxury and the apparent peace, you were never really safe.

You shifted your gaze to the screen, trying to focus on the events unfolding there instead of the discomfort you felt.

The game was about to start.

On the screen, the city appeared—ruins. Buildings half-collapsed, streets littered with rubble. It was like a bomb had hit it, and what was left was a desolate wasteland. You couldn’t help but feel a knot tighten in your stomach as the camera zoomed in on the players.

Each of them wore a bright orange headband, the color a stark contrast against the grey backdrop of the destroyed city. It was the perfect game—Hide and Seek, but with a twisted, deadly twist.

The players had to evade a pack of trained dogs. If the dogs found them, they were mauled. If they managed to stay hidden, they moved on to the next round. It was brutal. Violent. And the VIPs loved it.

The camera cut to the dogs. They were large, terrifying creatures, their eyes hungry, waiting for the signal to hunt. You felt a tightness in your throat, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t look away. The images on the screen were becoming more vivid, more real. The dogs—trained specifically for this kind of hunt—were restless, pacing behind a metal gate, snarling, their teeth sharp and glinting in the dim light of the arena.

A man’s voice broke through the tension in the room. “This is my favorite part of the games,” a VIP called out, slurring slightly, clearly a few drinks in. His voice carried a note of excitement, like a child about to see his favorite movie.

Another VIP laughed darkly. “You say that every time, but you never get tired of it, do you?” He looked at you, his gaze lingering longer than it should. It made your skin crawl, but you fought the urge to shrink back. You weren’t allowed to show weakness. Not here. Not in front of them.

The horn blared.

It was a sharp, loud sound that sent the dogs into a frenzy. They barked, their bodies tense, their noses twitching as they began to pick up the scent of their prey. You could see the players—still in hiding, trying to remain as quiet as possible—knowing that the moment they were discovered, they’d be torn apart. The camera panned across the arena, showing glimpses of broken buildings, the wreckage of cars, shattered glass that glittered like dangerous confetti in the dust.

One player, a man with a thick beard, tried to hide behind a crumbling wall. His breath was shallow, his body pressed flat against the rubble. The camera zoomed in on him, following every movement, every flinch. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to make it. The dogs were too close. You could hear their growls, their teeth snapping in the air as they closed in on their target.

A single dog, a massive black creature with piercing yellow eyes, sprang forward. The bearded man didn’t even have time to scream before the dog leapt at him, its jaws clamping down on his arm with a sickening crunch.

The VIPs in the room reacted—some of them leaned forward, watching intently as the man struggled. His arm was pulled out of its socket, his body jerking in spasms of pain. The dog didn’t let go. It was almost clinical in its violence.

Your stomach turned, but you forced yourself to look away. You couldn’t afford to show any sign of weakness, even though everything inside you screamed to leave, to run far away from this nightmare. You couldn’t. Not while you were here.

In-ho must have sensed the change in you. Without turning, he moved closer, his presence a shield. His hand brushed lightly against your shoulder, a subtle touch that no one would notice but you. It was a small thing, but to you, it was everything. It was the reminder that, even though you were surrounded by these monsters, he was here.

“You don’t have to watch this,” he murmured softly, his voice so low that it was just for you.

But you shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” he said, his voice firm, but his hand on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, as if to say that you weren’t alone in this. It’s funny because this is what you had said to him in the first week of your marriage and now he’s giving you your own advice.

The game continued, and you had to watch—had to endure every violent moment. The players were slowly eliminated, each one either killed by the dogs or injured enough to be eliminated from the game. The tension in the room built, and the VIPs, unable to hide their excitement, began to lean closer to the screen.

It was as if you were all watching something… sacred. The chaos was intoxicating, even for you. But you knew it wasn’t real. These men didn’t care about the players. They were nothing more than objects to be discarded when they were no longer useful. And yet, they stared, completely enthralled.

Your eyes flickered to your father again. He hadn’t moved. He never moved. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his face a mask of impassivity. But when his gaze briefly flicked toward you, it was like a flash of lightning—a quick, cold look before it was gone. He hadn’t acknowledged you, not really. But in that fleeting moment, you saw the briefest flash of something in his eyes. Regret? Disappointment? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want to care either.

As the horn signaling the end of the game the remaining players slowly made their way out of their hiding places as the dogs retreated back to their cages.

The game ended in a bloodbath, as it always did. But that didn’t matter to the VIPs, they didn't care that people died, they only cared if they were entertained.

They began talking among themselves. Their eyes, however, soon shifted back to you. They were bored now, looking for something new to entertain them. The focus of their gazes was relentless.

You could feel them closing in, their words directed at you now, one by one, subtle compliments, veiled insults, thinly disguised advances. They were trying to reel you in, to see if you’d bite, to see if they could take something from you that they hadn’t earned.

In-ho’s protective stance didn’t falter. He stood between you and the crowd, blocking their advances with his quiet strength. His presence was like a wall, keeping you safe, even if only for a while.

You wanted to look away from it all, to pretend you weren’t part of this game, but the truth was, you were. You had been from the moment you stepped into this world.

And you weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending.

———————

Chapter 11!!! Woo! I’m prolly going to have 1-2 more chapters posted tonight… as always let me know what you think about the chapter! Thank you! :)

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[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

russ ballard on leaving argent:

(1974)

"Before I told the lads, I was pacing the floor all bloody night, which didn't exactly help health-wise."

"The hardest part about leaving was telling Robert Henrit, our drummer, 'cause we've always been in bands together over the past 12 or 13 years but it was just something I felt I had to do if I was going to do my own thing."

"Even at the time of Hold Your Head Up I wanted to do an album and play all the instruments and I thought hell, I don't want to reach the age of 35 and still be waiting to do something on my own. To produce my own things will give me the satisfaction of knowing that it is down to me, knowing that if anyone was going to take the rap, it would be me, whereas in a band, you can always spread the blame or credit to the rest of the boys."

"It bugged me a little bit because although Rod's a great organist, the solos particularly on my songs went on for too long in my opinion and it got me down. I thought some of the instrumentals on the album went on too long but that's the way Rod feels and you can imagine how these little differences become bigger and bigger year after year until you think, hell, I've got to do something about it."

"You can always change a situation that you are in. So many people sit around and complain and do nothing about it, whether it's in marriage or, in my case, music. But now I've changed my situation and I've always been a great believer in this method."

"I never realised this, but I was talking to Colin the other day about organ solos and he told me that he used to ask Rod in the Zombies' days if he could walk off-stage during the organ solos. Rod apparently couldn't understand why Colin was like this but I can see his point now."

"It's frustrating 'cause I'd like to do more piano and have a bash on the drums but I'm limited and it is frustrating just standing there watching."

"I reckon Argent are one of the best around at the moment and there's still room for improvement, but I think I've got more to offer on my own. We're a very close band and that's why we've lasted so long. Rod has said that we pull in different directions at times and it's perfectly true. I think the group will be better off without me 'cause he can do his thing and he won't have my influence and they'll have more direction."

"I wanna get a drummer, bass player and guitarist, preferably some good young talent who are enthusiastic. It's going to be very hard 'cause I've been in bands since I was 12 and Argent is the first band I've experienced who are totally into music. You'd always get one who was only after the birds and others who were in it for how much money they could get, so I want three guys who are into music and not into the trappings."

"I like to hear a few bum notes on an album as long as the performance is good. I find that Argent are too perfect at times, making each note too good and it doesn't sound real."

[abstractlesbian]

Find someone slightly annoying but in really small harmless ways so I decide none of the behaviours are worth bringing up with them → realizing: hey, Im also annoying! solidarity! → realizing we have a lot in common and starting to bond → finding out other people find this person annoying and are vocal about it behind their back → finding out this person has ADHD like me that's (at least one reason) why we have all these traits in common → fear.

[lastnightonthecyclone]

Another fucking wip on fnaf because inconsistency is my skill

[orcelito]

With gay moon post approaching 600 notes (600 notes... 😥) I have had a few realizations

1: not everyone shares the same observations that I do. Which I say just bc I was IMMEDIATELY struck by the framing of Vash with the moon in that one panel the first time I saw it, but I've had a number of ppl mention they hadn't noticed it

Which leads into 2: the reason that post has so many notes is bc pointing out moments like that holds value to people. Plus I guess my commentary & conclusions? Plus acting as something for people to bounce their own ideas off of.

And then 3: there are probably more moments I could explore in such a way, & that could hold value to people

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

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[connorsui]

One Touch Apart

Note: I couldn't help it after seeing the countless number of fanarts and game plays ....I just had to give myself an area to adore this man that is Mr. Crawling...♡♡

The faint hum of the outside world muted, but the warmth radiating from the strange entity in front of you made it feel less... empty. Mr. Crawling stood in the corner, his towering, spindly frame blending into the shadows, but his glowing, expressive gaze was fixed on you. For someone—or something—so otherworldly, he had a way of making you feel oddly at ease, even after everything you’d been through together.

Escaping the other world was nothing short of a nightmare, but somehow, having him here made it less terrifying. No one else could see him, which, honestly, was for the best. It meant you didn’t have to explain why this unsettling yet endearing entity was always hovering near you, his chirps and faint, childlike giggles filling the silence.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, trying and failing to suppress a smile as you caught him peering at you from behind the doorframe. His head tilted, chirping softly in response, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He was like a puppy, in the most bizarre and disturbing way possible—always following you around, trying to mimic your actions, and doing his best to protect you, even if you weren’t in any real danger.

The language barrier between you two was a hurdle you hadn’t expected, but it hadn’t stopped you from trying. You’d started using hand signs, carefully shaping each motion to convey meaning. The first time you tried, though, he’d simply stared, his glowing eyes wide with fascination. Then, much to your amusement, he’d clumsily attempted to mimic your gestures, his ghostly fingers twitching in a disjointed imitation.

The two of you had ended up staring at each other in utter confusion before you burst out laughing. He’d tilted his head, watching you closely, then let out a high-pitched giggle, a hauntingly perfect mimicry of your own laugh.

That was the moment you realized how fond you’d become of him.

Now, as he chirped softly from his spot in the shadows, you glanced up at him, smiling. He smiled back—or, well, you thought it was a smile. His expressions were still hard to read, but the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes were unmistakable.

Hesitantly, you reached out, your fingers brushing over his arm. His skin—or whatever it was—was cool and smooth, like marble. He didn’t pull away, instead leaning into your touch with a quiet hum. Encouraged, you let your hand trail upward, brushing against his face.

Your knuckles ghosted over his cheek, gently brushing his hair aside. He froze for a moment, as if caught off guard, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever been touched so tenderly before.

His gaze—or where you thought his gaze should be—locked with yours. Did he even have eyes? You weren’t sure, but the intensity of his stare made your heart race.

The first time you’d felt this strange pull toward him had been in the other world, when he’d saved you from Mr. Scarletella. He’d pulled you down, crawling over you to hide you beneath his frame, shielding you from the other entity’s gaze. You hadn’t been able to forget the way his body curled protectively around yours, the warmth of his presence chasing away your fear.

It had only grown from there.

He’d been your constant companion, your protector, your solace in a place where nothing made sense. And now, as you stood here with him, that feeling blossomed into something more.

Your eyes drifted to his lips—pale, faintly cracked, but oddly inviting. What would they feel like against yours? Would he even understand the concept of a kiss?

You bit your lip, then pointed to your mouth, and then to his, hoping to get your message across. His smile widened, but he tilted his head slightly, an expression of playful confusion.

What? ; his expression seemed to ask, as if hes teasing you. would you care to show me?

Your cheeks flushed, and you let out a soft laugh. Of course, he’d turn this into a game.

“Well,” you murmured, stepping closer. “Who am I to say no?”

Carefully, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. His skin felt smoother than you expected, like polished stone, and yet there was a warmth beneath it that made you shiver.

He watched you intently, his glowing gaze unwavering as you leaned closer. Your breaths mingled, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if you were crossing a line. But his head tilted slightly, almost inviting, and you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was clumsy, his inexperience evident in the way his lips barely moved against yours. But there was a sweetness to it, a quiet eagerness that made your heart ache. When you finally pulled away, he let out his signature giggle, his lips twitching into an unmistakable smile.

And then he leaned forward, trying to capture your lips again.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” you teased, though you didn’t resist as he pressed another kiss to your mouth, this one slightly more confident than the last.

He giggled again, the sound almost giddy, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. It seemed you’d spoiled him now—because judging by the way he clung to you, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

[uravitypng]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: denki kaminari x reader

word count: 4.8k words

a/n: i'm so glad i finished this and i hope you all like this because i loved writing this. denki's girlfriend is possibly one of the worst people ever...

content warnings: cheating(denki cheats on his girlfriend with reader), praise, unprotected sex, creamie/coming inside, body worship, denki's girlfriend is the absolute worst, multiple orgasms, pining, reader has some self esteem issues and self doubts but denki shows her how perfect she is, oral(f!recieving), denki calls condoms rubber, reader is in denial, petnames, reader is hinted to be chubby, - mdni/18+

you didn't even want to be here... you always got a bad vibe off of them. you're 'friends' with mina but just barely, yet somehow she's dragged you to a party with people who you're definitely not 'friends' with.

at least kaminari is here, he always smiles at you and makes conversation with you even if his girlfriend is a total bitch and probably is the worst out of all of them.

you miss the time before you knew they were dating. somehow after finding that out his girlfriend seemed even worse and more entitled.

you walk into the kitchen in hopes to get another drink but instead you hear that bitch and you had a feeling she was originally talking about you and it was confirmed when she said your name. "i don't know why she's even here. the only reason mina invited her was out of pity." she says spitefully. your eyes well up with tears, maybe you did get invited out of pity, mina is someone who would do that, she knows you don't have many friends.

this whole time you don't realise kaminari is behind you hearing the same thing you are and his face twists in disgust as he hears his girlfriend carry on speaking, "she's just so boring, it's no wonder she's single." your heart fills heavy, it's not your fault that you're single you've just never found someone you clicked with, you blame it on all the fictional characters you like and you often compared them to all your potential relationships. "she's ugly. it's almost a crime that she's at a party with us, that she's in hinami's home. when i started dating kami i met some of his other friends from school when he was younger, that's when i met mineta. the really short one y'know? short, pervy and unattractive, all around terrible guy. he's probably going to be single for the rest of his life, the only way he's not is if he dates her and even then it'll be him who's the more better looking one." they laugh.

why, why, why? what did you ever do to them?

you know you're not the most interesting or the most attractive but you don't deserve this- no one does. you don't want to make a scene but you have to leave, you can't stay here any longer. you wish you could speak up for yourself but you can't and even if you could what good would it do? so you decide to leave before you start hyperventilating, before saying goodbye to mina. turning around to leave when you literally bump into kaminari and there's an expression on his face that you've never seen before and he doesn't even try to hide it.

he looks angry. more than angry, he looks pissed. he's gripping hold of the beer he's drinking so hard that his hands are becoming white around the bottle, his jaw is clenched and his stare is hard but when he feels you bump into him his eyes soften when he looks at you and takes you in. you're biting your lip trying not to sob and tears are filling your waterline. as you see him you can't stop the dam from breaking as the tears heavily stream down your face. as you push past him you hope to never see him again- any of them.

that doesn't happen though. denki has made it a point to wiggle himself into your life, inserting himself there. it happened that very night after you left the party, about half an hour after you arrived home and changed into comfy clothes he came knocking on you door. "kaminari? how... how do you know where i live? wait, what- hold up, what are you even doing here?"

why is he wet, has it been raining? he smiles genuinely at you, even though he's soaked to the bone, freezing from the rain and so very irate with his girlfriend just seeing you cheers him up. he's never seen you in a comfortable setting before, a setting where you're not dressing up from anyone, you look even cuter than normal...

"can i come in?" he asks you and you blink slowly and heavily a few times, processing the question. it relaxes you because the way he says it sounds like a sincere questions. sometimes when people ask a question you know you have to answer a certain way, you know there is a right way.

sometimes when someone asks "can i...?" you have to say yes because saying no isn't really an option, they're not really asking you. but when you heard denki say, "can i come in?" you relax because you know you could just say no and that would be okay, he would be okay with that. if you told him no he 'can't come in' he'd just leave and won't push you to say yes or try to make you feel guilty. sometimes questions like "can i come in?" or a "can we go here?" are almost rhetorical question.

he makes you feel safe.

you nod your head and step aside letting him through. "okay," you reply softly and a little hoarsely, slightly annoyed at yourself for not speaking more louder and assertively.

"how are you feeling?"

the tether that's keeping you from becoming frustrated feels like it starts fraying "how do you think i'm feeling?" beginning to get annoyed at him because why is he even here talking to you, shouldn't he still be at hinema's house with his girlfriend?

"yeah... that's a stupid question, sorry." denki rubs the back of his head with hand and steps a little bit closer to you. "let me make you feel better," he blurts out.

"huh?"

denki steps even closer to you and gently holds onto your hand, clasping it in his. "let me... let me make you feel better. let me apologise on my girlfriends behalf..." your eyes go wide starting to have an idea about what he means but not wanting to verbalise it and jump to conclusions, worrying to get the wrong idea. "let me... show you- show you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are." he squeezes your hand momentarily and says quietly, almost begging, "please."

"what about your girlfriend?" you say girlfriend with disdain.

"what about her? she doesn't matter. let me show you how pretty you are love."

your heartbeat increases at the nickname and your face heats up. "i- i don't know kaminari."

"denki." he says gently but authoritatively.

"what?"

"please, please call me denki." he pleads, squeezing your hand again.

"okay, denki..." you test his name on your tongue and it sounds right, like you should always be saying it.

even now you're still not sure to what compelled you to say, "please show me denki." you never regretted your answer.

it starts slowly, gently, tenderly. denki cups your cheek in his palm and kisses you, placing his other hand on your hip keeping you close to him. the longer you kiss the more hungry it becomes and you're not really sure if it was you or him that deepened the kiss and pressed your bodies up against each other.

"can i love?" he gestures to your top that he's currently fiddling with the hem of, wanting to lift it up so he can touch you properly and get a good look at you.

you hum in affirmation and keep your lips attached to his, not wanting to separate. denki slivers your top up and puts his hand where it used to be, now on your exposed supple flesh, his cold hands stroking your skin delicately. as you feel his hands you shudder remembering now about how drenched he is. "you must be freezing denki." you finally move away from his lips and see his clothes covered in rain with rain drops dripping down his hair landing on his shoulders.

"it's okay. completely worth it." denki grins at you and you suddenly feel shy by the way he's looking at you. you definitely feel pretty by his gaze, it's electrifying and makes you feel bashful all at once.

"do- do you want a towel to dry yourself off with?" denki kisses your jaw and smiles, distracting you.

"don't worry about it love." his breathe against your neck making you shiver. you pout even though he can't see you and you still worry, not wanting him to get a cold. "you keep me warm."

"but-"

denki presses his lips against yours and wraps both his arms around your waist. you moan quietly and he lifts your top up over your head. "is this okay?"

"yes please," you respond, hoping not to sound too needy.

he smirks at your tone and takes off the rest of your clothes. "jesus, you look even more beautiful than i imagined," he says quietly to himself, you're not sure if you were suppose to hear it or if he even meant to say it out loud. denki runs his hands along the curves of your body.

"you imagined me?" you match his volume and he looks startled at your question, obviously surprised that you heard what he said, you come to the conclusion that he thought he was thinking but he actually said out loud

"who wouldn't? you're beautiful." denki kisses your shoulder and holds one of your breasts in his large hands, stroking your nipple as you bite your lip to stop any embarrassing noises spilling out. you're already feeling shy as it is after denki has said such nice things about you.

after realising what you were doing he takes your chin in his hand and tilts you to look at him so you're making eye contact. "look at me. you don't need to do that. not with me. i want to see you. i want to hear all the noises you make, i want you."

denki grazes his teeth along your neck and you gasp. "those are the noises i wanted." you press your lips together trying not to smile, denki grins at how adorable you look.

he moves to take off his shirt and you thought he looked good beforehand in a casual black button up shirt but god does he look even better with it off. you thought he'd be kind of skinny but he's actually lean and a little slim. you can see some defining muscle, his arms are just the same. a couple of moles on his forearms and faint freckles dust his shoulders and upper chest. you wonder if he has light freckles on his face too because you've never once seen them but maybe you haven't looked hard enough.

you know you're probably staring a tiny bit too much at his slender waist and yellow happy trail that matches the colour of his hair and he doesn't mind one bit, happy that you like what you see and fond of your attention.

"like what you see?" he chuckles. you go to hide your face behind your hand after being caught but denki catches your wrist. "what did i tell you? i want to see you sweetheart." you have the urge to bury your face against his chest, hiding away from his gaze but you resist the urge.

everything became a little hazy after that for the next ten minutes, denki has manoeuvred you into your bedroom onto your bed, hovering over you, and keeping you in between his two arms. you pull denki down by wrapping your arms around his neck so you can kiss him again. the kiss begins slow and sweet before denki runs his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for access into your mouth and you grant him it. your tongues intertwine and you can still taste that cheap beer he's been drinking that's still lingering even though you've already been kissing previously.

you could kiss denki all night but he has other plans as he starts touching your breasts again and moves his hand down your body to get you ready for his cock, surprised to find that you're already wet. "wet from just a little kissing? that's so cute." he kisses your cheek and whispers against your ear.

"denki," you whine, "don't tease me."

he has to take a deep breath after hearing you whine, not wanting to let you know how bad you affect him because if you keep making noises like that he'll come in his boxers before he gets inside you. "it's okay love." he grinds himself against your thigh, groaning at the contact, letting you feel how hard he is. "i'm just the same." he says deeply and you shiver at the knowledge that denki is just as turned on as you. he's turned on by you.

his dick is almost painful with being contained in his jeans so he rushes to take them off. precome stains his grey boxers turning the area black and he takes them off too, grinning at you. the one way you would describe denki's dick is pretty, just like him so it makes sense. he's a little longer than average, circumcised and pubes trimmed. you want him inside you. now.

"do you have a- you know?" denki asks, gesturing to your bedside cabinet. he regrets not carrying any condoms in his pocket or wallet but his girlfriend only likes having sex in ones of their bedrooms. she's not a fan of spontaneous sex.

"oh, um, maybe? in the bathroom. i wasn't really expecting this and i don't- don't do this a lot... at all really." you admit, while trying to think about where you keep condoms because you must have them somewhere but you keep coming up a blank. the entire time denki's thinking about how you never do this, it makes him feel special, special that you're letting him make you feel good.

you want him... all of him. "i um-i-i'm on the pill." denki's eyes snap up to look at you.

"holy shit are you serious right now?" he asks automatically and enthusiastically, his face lighting up.

you start regretting your suggestion and denki can tell by the look on your face, he thinks he probably spooked you. "we don't need to do anything like that if you don't want to love. i can eat you out for hours. i mean hell, that sounds like at absolute dream." you giggle after hearing that. "sorry i was a bit quick and excited there, i've just never had sex without any rubber on."

you're surprised after hearing that, thinking that he's the type to go without and you tell him just that. "i think that was why i was so excited, i've always wanted too. it's always been a dream of mine and i don't like using them but i've never brought it up with any of the girls i've been with."

"well.. is it okay that i brought it up?" you ask more confident seeing that denki is delighted with the idea.

"fuck yeah. i trust you like crazy. if it was going to be anyone i'd want it to be you." he tells you, grinning. he trusts you. if he had the opportunity with anyone he'd choose you? your heart flutters.

"i don't really like condoms either and i want you, all of you." you tell him shyly and denki's heart misses a beat after your confession.

next thing you know denki is pushing his cock into, inch by inch. even though denki has already prepped you and has been touching you there is still a slight stretch. both you and denki groan simultaneously. your velvet, warm, wet walls welcome him without any barrier.

what comes out of denki next is a mixture of moans, groans, swearing and praising with each thrust. "fucking hell, holy shit sweetheart. you're fucking beautiful, most beautiful girl in the world, so pretty." with each praise and compliment every slight doubt that lingers in the back of your mind disappears, your sole focus being on the man above you. "you feel so good, lovely." he holds your hands in his, enlacing your fingers, that seems far too intimate for a supposedly one night stand to make you feel better.

he catches on to how to please you best with every gasp, noise and shake, and only after a couple minutes he seems to know your body better than you do. with every thrust he's rubbing against your g-spot, drawing circles over your clit and taking your nipple in his mouth.

you came harder than you ever came that night, multiple times with your ears going fuzzy and eyes going blurry. denki doesn't let you know but he's in the same boat, his come spilling into you, the warmth making you shudder and arch your back, grabbing onto him tightly. he's never came as much as he did and he knows that it's all because of you.

you don't know how it happened but denki ended up staying the night and leaving in the early hours of the morning. this wasn't how your night was suppose to go but you don't regret it. he did what he said he would when he arrived on your doorstep, he did make you feel better and he did make sure you didn't spend the night upset and feeling insecure and alone. that night was so shitty, his girlfriend was so shitty yet he succeeded in making it a good night.

when he came to your door you thought there was a silent understanding, a one night stand and after this he'll go back to his girlfriend. for that one night he'll be making up for what his girlfriend said but it didn't turn out like that.

you expected to not see denki for months, that is if you ever see him again. you expected to go back to calling him by his last name and trying to forget what he looks like nude and how his stomach went taunt as he was about to climax but instead you saw him a week after when he knocked on your door, slamming his lips against yours and pushing you against your wall. at least once a week for months now you would see him, you know you should feel bad for his girlfriend, he is cheating on her with you, but you don't, not in the slightest.

after the first few times denki came by again you slipped in some questions afterwards, wanting to know if he was doing this with other girls. he isn't.

wanting to know if you're still the only person he's slept with without wearing a condom. yes you are and he has no intention of changing that.

you've never asked him any questions involving morality like if he feels guilty or if he loves his girlfriend. it doesn't involve you.

you're aware now your relationship has developed more than it once was, the closest label you have would be friends with benefits. some nights denki knocks on your door unannounced, like always, with a bag of popcorn and your favourite snacks ready to watch a new film that has just come out on netflix. he's probably the closest friend you have, you stay clear of his girlfriend though, she isn't even aware that you and denki are close now. hopefully the last time she's spoken about you or thought about you was at that dreadful party and hopefully it stays that way.

denki likes his girlfriend... he does... if he was quoting mean girls he'd say something along the lines of - there's good and bad to everybody. but his girlfriend is just more upfront about it.

that would be a lie though. there are some things he likes about his girlfriend and when they're alone together it can be really good but he then remembers about how awful her attitude is towards other people. towards you. sneaking around and cheating on her is honestly rather thrilling for him and he likes the idea of silently letting you get your own back.

sometimes he'll rationalise it in his own head while he's drunk. cheating on her is okay because he's always wanted to sleep with you. it's okay because ever since you first met, denki wished you were his girlfriend.

he could never end it with his current girlfriend, his parents always ask about her and it would cause a rift in their friend group. near the beginning of their relationship his girlfriend brought herself a dog but he prefers denki over her, opting to want his attention over hers. if they did break up he knows he'd never see that dog again, he's grown to love it. it's just as much of his than it is hers but he knows that that won't matter and he'll never see him again if they broke up. they work next to each other and they go to all the same places.

he could never break up with her, he'd never hear the end of it with his parents.

so for now he gets to have some joy from getting to see you and kiss you and lay his head on your lap while you watch television together. if he tries hard enough he can almost imagine you're his girlfriend instead.

one night denki's at yours, you're not doing any explicit but you're just enjoying your night together, that is until she spoils it. denki's ringtone going off disrupts hot fuzz and he takes the call not even bothering to pause the movie. you decide to turn it down though. "kamiiiii, where are?" god her voice is grating. once a voice that spewed such nasty things about you now just sounds annoying. "i came by yours and you're not here."

denki closes his eyes shut tight, it looks to you that he's annoyed too. "sorry, i'm out tonight." he lies and know what is about to happen next.

"don't you want to see me. c'mon home, we can spend the night together." she giggles into the phone. you knew it. you knew what would happen when he answered that call from her.

denki knows he does't really have a choice without explaining where he is so he agrees to come see her. "okay, i'll be there soon." you both stay silent for a moment not talking before he breaks the silence. "i'm sorry love, we didn't even get to finish the film. i swear we can finish it next time." he apologises.

he thought he saw disappointment on your face for a second but he knows that he's just seeing things, you wouldn't be disappointed for him to go, you're not like that, he knows to you that he's just someone to fuck. he knows that you're using him to get back at his girlfriend. he doesn't mind that one bit though, as long as you're in his life.

"you can watch the rest without me if you wanted to." he tells you getting up from the sofa.

you shake your head, "no, no, it's fine. we can watch it next time. bye kaminari."

'oh no she's annoyed at me, she called me kaminari. she hasn't called me that in months. maybe she wanted to have sex tonight and i've ruined her plans. i can't stay now though, i'm already leaving. i'll have to make it up to her.'

you don't know why you called him kaminari, you knew it was petty but that didn't stop you from saying it. sometimes you get so caught up with denki you forget that outside of your home he isn't yours and he never will be. you're just sleeping together, that's all, and you don't want anything more than that... you don't...

denki thought about you all night, you never left his mind. he hates that he left you but he felt like he had no option. if he was anyone else he would have enough sense to distance himself from you but when it comes to you his judgement gets cloudy and he'll do whatever he can to be in your life, even if that involves lying through his teeth to everyone about where he is.

two nights after denki left after the phone call he came to yours with a takeaway in his hand and a grin on his face. he doesn't actually say the word 'sorry,' he doesn't acknowledge that he left abruptly, he just grins and asks "hot fuzz?"

you match his grin and let him in. you thought maybe you would be a little annoyed with denki after seeing him in your doorway but you realised that you had no right to be annoyed. you're not his girlfriend.

one takeaway and half a film after you're playing with denki's hair and he hums in happiness and gratitude. "i could have you play with my hair all night but do you want to take this to the bedroom love? i'm still pretty hungry." he takes your hands away from his head so he can kiss your wrist and winks at you. you roll your eyes and call him an idiot. "just for you sweetheart." it just came out and both of you heard. denki splutters and tries to backtrack what he said but it's too late, his whole entire face is red and his eyes are wide and you're doing no better. you haven't fully processed the words yet but you're sure it was accidental, it's just denki being denki. you turn your head away from him, nervous and embarrassed. your cheeks feel like they're on fire and you don't think you have the courage to look at him in the eye. even though you've talked yourself into how it was denki just being denki you still can't look at him.

the implications that he's yours makes you incredibly happy but you don't even want to accept that, after all you just see him as a friend. he's a good fuck. you're absolutely in denial. at least he isn't. he knows he wants you to be his, fully, completely, body and mind.

you both end up trying to ignore what he said, haphazardly but relatively successful, pivoting back to denki's offer of going to the bedroom. "denks are we taking this to the bedroom or not?"

'god she's amazing.' he's so glad you aren't acting weird.

denki's got his head between your plush thighs, he's holding onto them keeping them open so you don't close them and stop him. licking a strip along your pussy, before flicking your clit a few times with his tongue and then lapping up your juices as he plays with your breast and moaning at your taste. "denki, don't do that, it's embarrassing."

he looks up from where he's laying to see you, "what? enjoy myself. don't complain or i won't let you come."

the threat of not being allowed an orgasm shuts you up, knowing that denki will absolutely deliver on that threat if he wants to. you know that he would eat you out for hours not letting your come once.

you loose track of time, your hips start rolling uncontrollably and you grab hold of his hair. "don't get greedy sweetheart, you'll come when i say you can." he holds down your thighs to stop you from moving and kisses your hip, sucking to form a mark on your soft skin. his mark.

for all his threats he does let you come. "you've been so behaved. so good sweetheart," he mumbles against your skin. you come again and again. he finally lets up and you watch him lick his lips and wink at you. you turn your head away from him and he chuckles. his erection is visible even with his jeans on and denki flops down on the bed next to you, drawing you closer so you're laying next to each other, his arm under you.

reaching down to his jeans you start stroking him through his clothes. "don't worry about that, not tonight. i just wanted to look after you, make you feel good." he places a chaste kiss on you forehead.

"you always make me feel good," you tell him honestly and his heart feels like it's beating out of his chest.

"then my work here is done." he replies and you giggle. he is completely and utterly in love with you.

he can't tell you, no matter how much he wants to. you don't feel the same way and he can't lose you.

how much longer will you stay in denial for?

will his girlfriend ever find out about you two? maybe that will be your tipping point. maybe her finding out will make you realise that you want denki more than a quick fuck or a friend. maybe her finding out will be what you need. you're in love with denki.

[chelseeebe]

hot n’ heavy

18+. mdni. smut. breeding kink if you squint! exhusband!eddie

part two to yours, forever! i truly believe they would have three sons and one little girl that comes after r’s second divorce🤭 the p3 to this is my favourite however, i have some pornstar!eddie is reallyyyy want to get out before it’s posted hehe. pls ignore any mistakes i am so tired

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

eddie hadn’t ever lied about you still being the only woman in his life, he’d dated around after the divorce but had never, ever found anyone that came close to you. 

he does suppose that you were together for fourteen years. he feels like at that point, you were stuck together for life. 

and yet, he can’t fucking wait. 

sat on one of wayne’s loungers just waiting for you to walk through that gate and spot her. 

he’d sorta been seeing ashley for the past couple months or so, mostly just hooking up during those dry spells where you were content with your marriage. 

wayne’s annual barbecue was coming up and so he’d had the bright idea to ask her along, truthfully just to get you talking to him again. 

nice girl, pretty too but he knew you’d be furious. 

the kids bounce through the yard first, barely saying hi to eddie first before clambering on top of wayne as they usually did. 

you shuffle through next, the far-too-short dress sitting just around your thighs, a blatant attempt at garnering his attention. though you were no match for him, eddie had the petty game nailed down since 1998. from the moment you’d handed him those divorce papers, he’d taken it upon himself to piss you off as much as humanly possible. 

you haven’t realised yet, made obvious by the wide smile on your face. giving half-assed hugs to the various members of his family that sprawled around the garden, waiting for him last. 

but you don’t hug him, standing in front of the lounge chair with a frown, looking his outfit up and down. “i didn’t realise you were coming,” you quip. 

fucking lie. 

your dress wouldn’t have been half as revealing if you’d actually thought he wasn’t going to be here. 

eddie scoffs, sitting up in his chair, “why wouldn’t i be?” cocking his head to the side, waiting for the perfect moment to introduce ashley.  

“oh i don’t know, thought you’d be too busy pretending you can play guitar,” shrugging sweetly, but not backing off. 

his eyes narrow, biting his tongue to unleash the true beast, “have you met ashley?” gesturing towards the young blonde with a side smirk from hell, “she’s been so excited to meet the kids!”

your brows furrow, lip curling in disgust. he loves even more that you don’t try to hide it, practically retching in front of her face.  

sharp eyes flicker over to her, “nice to meet you.. ashley,” but your hand doesn’t extend for her to shake, instead you flounce off without waiting for her reply. 

“dave not here?” eddie jeers, holding the cool bottle of beer just before his snarling lips. 

“he’s at work,” you snap back, “you know what that is?” snarky in all your glory, sitting on the furthest, most opposite chair you could find. 

that’s alright, he can almost see right up your dress from here, purposely no doubt. 

wayne must have found that hilarious, bursting into a maniacal laughter, never on the side of his own flesh and blood. 

pfft. 

whatever. 

it wouldn’t be long before your dress was bunched up against your hips and-

“-eddie?” ashley barks from beside, snapping him out of maladaptive wet daydream, “can you show me the bathroom?” batting her eyelashes. 

holy fuck. the regret of ever inviting her had began to seep in, because in actuality, it had done absolutely nothing worthwhile in making you jealous. 

he nods, concealing the annoyance on his face by clearing his throat, guiding the poor girl past his relatives judging eyes and into the house. 

she grabs ahold of his hand, trying to pull him into the bathroom alongside of her. blinking rapidly when he stays put. 

“my kids are here,” he whispers, yanking his hand back, “i really can’t,” he could, he had a hundred times. just not with her. 

she pouts, dropping her shoulders in a huff, quickly pulling the door closed as eddie rushes off outside again. he couldn’t have you thinking he was screwing around with her now.

your eyes follow him from the door to his seat, wayne leaning over to whisper not-so-quietly about him.

he can read something along the lines of midlife crisis, wayne’s bellowing laugh after pretty much solidifies that theory. eddie’d be much more angry if he didn’t find it so endearing, wayne loved you more than eddie did, he was certain of that. 

wayne pats your shoulder before sending a sharp glance at eddie, a warning sign he’d seen, and ignored, many a times. 

-

an hour of meaningless banter and fake affection later, eddie finds his opportunity. 

you had disappeared off under the guise of helping in the kitchen, but he knows it’s an invite of sorts. you weren’t as nonchalant as you thought you were, sliding your gaze over his and then immediately at the open door.

a blind man could’ve picked up on that for christ sake.

he saunters off through the door, no doubt you were in there messing about with the salads or doing the dishes like you normally did. the garden is too loud for anyone to realise anyway, he figures he’s got a good fifteen minutes before anyone questions where you’ve both gone. 

you glance up at him walking through the door but choose not to speak, plating up the anaemic looking potato salad his aunt had made. 

“you not speaking to me today?” standing on the opposite side of the island, picking at the bowl of chips. 

“i have nothing to say to you,” turning up your nose to continue dumping the grey slop into a bowl. 

“that’s a lie,” eddie chuckles, leaning over the marbled counter, “i know you have loads of things you want to say to me today.”

you look up briefly, staring daggers into his soul, “why don’t you go back outside with your little girlfriend and leave me alone?”

eddie sighs rather sarcastically, “one, not my girlfriend and two, i’d rather be in here with you,” walking his fingers over the counter towards you. 

you scoff, but he knows you’re not serious because if you were, you’d have thrown the spoon at his head and laughed as it got tangled in his curls. 

“c’mon,” he beckons, nodding towards the stairs. 

when wayne had announced that he’d be selling the trailer in favour of a house, eddie think he physically jumped for joy. 

living with wayne and a pregnant you in that tiny metal box had began to drive him utterly insane, especially once wayne had retired and he had an approximate five minute window to have sex every day. 

you glance out of the window, making sure that no one would follow you up the stairs, before sighing and begrudgingly trailing behind him. 

“don’t worry, they won’t even notice,” slipping into the box room and shutting the door as discreetly as possible. 

to be honest, you’d lived in this room just as long as he had, it was yours as much as it was his. some of your posters still stay stuck to the walls, pictures of the two of you that you’d framed still linger. 

eddie waits with baited breath for you to start, prepared for the inevitable rant that was just bubbling to fall out of your lips. 

you stand poised at the other side for he room, hands on hips, ready to scold, “you’re seriously pathetic if you think bringing some kid would make me jealous,” clicking your tongue against your teeth, eyes flicking up and down his casual stature. 

there it is. 

the tirade of insults he’s been waiting for all night. 

“i fucking knew that’d work,” guffawing loudly, “you’re so angry and i love it,” swigging his beer with far too much confidence. 

“i’m not angry, i’m disgusted. there’s a difference,” crossing your arms firmly over your chest. 

“oh please,” rolling his eyes, “you’re married for fuck sake,” placing the bottle on his old dresser, the fun was just about to begin. 

“yeah. i am,” you nod, the deep furrow of your brow only exciting him further, “to someone my own age, not some fucking teenager.”

“she’s twenty three, actually,” in such a matter-of-fact tone that it makes you seethe, launching forward to twist his collar between your fingers. 

“you disgust me,” eyes like slits and a snarl that some rottweilers would be jealous of. 

“isn’t it a bit late for you to start lying like this?” a heavy hand meets your back, pressing your body into his as your heartbeats collide. 

“fuck you,” moving forward to connect your lips the same time he does, an angry battle that consists of guttural growls and an animalistic need to dominate the kiss. 

“just ask me next time sweets,” grabby with his hands as they get comfy on your hips, performing a waltz around the tiny bedroom floor to lie your body sideward on the edge of the bed, legs wrapping tight around his back. 

“everyone’s here,” you breathe, glancing warily towards the window, “what if they hear?”

“pssht, not like we’ve never done this before,” 

this bedroom had once witnessed the most explicit things all the while wayne was downstairs and hopefully oblivious. 

eddie’s hand glides over your thigh and under your dress, lifting higher until it’s bunched up at your hips, just as he’d pictured. 

“wear these for me?” he remarks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your deliberately worn lacy panties.

“mhm,” lifting your hips as they come down, hanging off of your ankle. 

he breaks apart for what feels like too long, rushing to get his belt unbuckled and his jeans down, before hoisting your calves onto his shoulder, your knees damn near touching your ears as he comes down on top. 

“jesus christ eds, i’m not twenty five anymore,” gripping onto his forearm for leverage. 

eddie scoffs, running the leaking head of his cock from your clit to your hole, delighted with the way you shiver and whine. 

he sighs as his cock slides in, taking one last glance at the window, he wouldn’t last long anyway, not in this position. 

“fuucking hell,” you breathe, tightening your grip on his quivering arms, letting your eyes fall shut. 

he’s messy, sloppy in the way his hips move, pressed flat against your glistening cunt. if this didn’t get you pregnant, he gives up. 

“i like it when you’re jealous,” he pants, brushing the stray strands of hair from your sticky forehead to get a good glimpse of your fluttering eyes. 

your nails dig further into his skin, it’d probably hurt if he weren’t balls deep inside of you, “fuck off,” your insults punctuated by the slick sounds of your body’s meeting. 

he moves slow, grunting each time his tip nudges against your sweet spot. fuck. the downright pornographic noises of your pussy wrapped him makes him animalistic with need. 

schlickschlickschlick in time with the old mattress and his balls slapping against your ass. 

your hands move up above your head, helplessly grabbing at the blanket, fingers untwining in the fabric. 

“ohmygod yes,” head thrown back against the mattress, seemingly no longer bothered about the family gathering just outside. 

despite being an incoherent babbling mess, your eyes meet his, “don’t.. ever bring her here again,” your whines becoming too loud to hear your words clearly. 

eddie slaps his palm over your drooling mouth, but he nods, more than happy to comply if it meant he could fuck you like this every time. 

“only did it.. to make you jealous,” losing his momentum, the churning in his stomach becoming too much to carry on. 

you’re too fucked out to reply, whimpering into his palm, the bedsheets twisted between your fingertips. if no one had heard you, it would be nothing short of a miracle, your gasps only partly muffled by his hand. 

you clench around his cock, calves trembling upon his skin while your hips move on their own, cumming around his cock, his sweaty palm working overtime to silence your loud mouth. 

eddie doesn’t last much longer, biting down onto his lower lip so he doesn’t alert the whole house to your precarious position. 

he’s shaking, collapsing on top of you as his seed paints your walls, saying a silent prayer that this time is the time. 

“oh.. fuck,” he heaves, sloppily pumping his hips into your leaking cunt before pulling out completely, well aware that you had ran over the fifteen minute allotted time slot he had given you. 

wayne would have noticed a whole ten minutes ago, surely waiting to make his snarky comments. 

he lets go of your mouth, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before getting up and as a gentleman does, slides your panties back up and your skirt down. 

it filled eddie with far too much satisfaction to know you’d have to walk downstairs with a skewed walk and a pussy full of his cum, everybody else none the wiser. 

“don’t walk down together,” you bite, running frantic fingers through your unkempt hair, attempting to clean the smudged outline of your lipstick. 

“nobody’s gonna care,” re-buttoning his jeans as he takes a smug sip of warm beer. 

you spin on your heel, shooting daggers at his grinning eyes, “your girlfriend might,” and with that you’re gone, slipping out of the door in a cloud of tangled hair and creased fabric. 

god, he loves you. 

far more than should be allowed for two people who are divorced. 

it was wise for you to go down first, you were a much better liar than eddie ever was. 

he makes a slow walk downstairs, his belt clinking rather conspicuously as he pulls it tight. 

wayne stands in the shadows at the bottom, waiting until he’s close to make him piss his pants before speaking, “i don’t even wanna know,” shaking his head at his petulant nephew, “don’t ever leave me with that girl again,” a warning, but his eyes are soft, almost cracking as the pieces click into place in his brain. 

“i wasn’t.. i didn’t do anything,” but his twitching lips give him away, “and i’m gonna take her home, don’t worry,” trying to shuffle past wayne unscathed. 

his uncle reaches out, smearing his thumb across eddie’s chin, “you left your fuckin’ lipstick on, dumbass,” only half-disappointed in his nephew, because eddie, and everybody out in that garden knows wayne’d be the first person to celebrate the two of you getting back together. 

he, rather unsuccessfully, suppresses his grin, walking into the kitchen like he was the luckiest man alive. 

you stand at the counter, back to him, poking holes into juice boxes, your hair a sudden nest and your dress sitting higher than it had before. anyone would think you’d been doing something you shouldn’t.

he slides up right behind you, “i’m gonna go take her home.. are you staying?” hand threatening to creep under your dress again. 

“yeah, we’ll be here,” you confirm without ever looking up. 

“i’ll come back then,” he didn’t want to be here without you, you’d done these things as a pair for long that it felt disrespectful to ever entertain the idea of doing it alone. 

as he turns, he meets wayne’s eye who had either been stood watching the entire time or had only seen his hand grab your ass, either way it wasn’t great. 

his uncle’s eyes say enough, silent in both their judgement and approval. 

eddie shrugs, walking back into the garden with a terribly hidden smirk and a sickening excitement to get back and see you again.  

[multific]

Scent

Alpha!Simon Riley x Omega!Reader

Warning: non-explicit smut. 

Summary: Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat. However you never actually thought you would find yourself locked away in a house with your Lieutenant.

To say that the mission has gone to shit would be an understatement.

They were hunting you down and if it wasn't for Ghost, you would be dead by now.

If it wasn't for him and his sharp reflexes you would be lying with a bullet in your skull.

But you weren't.

Instead, you were in a much worse situation.

At the start of your mission, you took your suppressants, figuring you would be back the next day, you didn't even pack any, so now, you were here, on an uncomfortable mattress, trying to make it homey for your heat.

You never actually minded going into heat. You could just lock your door, fill your room with food and be good for a couple of days.

But this was a very different situation.

You were in a bunker-like building, hiding for survival with an Alpha who was also your Lieutenant. 

Not a situation you wanted to be in.

"You need to rest, I will keep watch." he avoided you, and didn't even come close to you, he just stopped at the door, never entering the room. He did put food down for you on the floor every day, commenting when you didn't eat something.

He was kind.

You knew he could smell your heat coming up, Alphas always did.

You know the upcoming days will be as much of a torture for him, as it will be for you.

You were glad it was Ghost with you, at least he had control over his alpha.

Before you could reply, he already left. Going as far away from you as possible. Yet, your smell still lingered. 

Sure, Simon had control over his alpha, but the temptation was too great. You were perfect. In every aspect of the word. The perfect woman, partner, and omega.

At first, Simon thought you had no place in the army, he thought Price had gone insane but you proved him wrong.

Your kindness wasn't your weakness, instead your strength. 

Simon took a deep breath, his mind and body immediately filled up with your scent, and how sweet you smelled. Simon, out of frustration, hit the wall, making the brick crumble.

He knew he should be there with you, help you, and yet, he was forcing himself away from you. 

Even if everything inside him was screaming for him to go to you, help you, feed you, and keep you safe and comfortable.

He knew he can't.

The next day he brought you another plate of food. 

"Ghost..." your voice came out way too desperate. "Can I have your shirt, please? The smell of the... pillows are..." Simon didn't need to be asked twice. He handed you his sweatshirt in a swift movement. "Thank you." he watched as you cuddled up with his clothes and he couldn't help but wish it was him. He forced himself to stand up and leave.

His scent really did help ease your pain as your heat reached its high. 

Your mind is filled with all the different lewd things. 

And yet, somehow, even with a hazy mind, even with a fog before your eyes, deep down, you knew better than to act upon those images filling your mind.

But you didn't know how to keep your scent at bay, not like there was a method or something. 

And it caused quite an interesting reaction with Simon.

While you were locked in a room, touching yourself to the thought of an Alpha, he kept stroking his cock to the scent and thought of you. 

You both knew it was forbidden, but no one was around, no one could hear your thoughts and your moans.

And for now, it was enough.

---

Thankfully, your heat soon ended, Simon got used to your smell as it slowly weakened. 

You started to grow stronger, and back to normal, but it will take you a couple of days to be fully back in action.

Simon knew this.

"How are you feeling?" he asked from the doorway, while you lay on the mattress on the floor.

"Your smell disappeared," you said with a pout as you looked at him.

"I will give you my shirt then, let's exchange." he said as he held out his shirt for you to take, you gave him the sweatshirt back.

His shirt smelled like you now. 

"We will have to leave in a few days, we have been here for almost a week now. We cannot stay, they will find us."

"I will be good to go tomorrow. I'm still a bit hazy though," you said and Simon nodded.

"How can I help more?"

"You have done plenty, Simon." use never used his name before, it was always Lieutenant or Ghost, nothing more, nothing less. 

You kept it professional. Until now.

"I will bring you more food for dinner, so you can have your strength back."

"Thank you, Alpha." you whispered the last part, but he heard you.

God, he heard you very well. As the door closed behind him, he just stood there, too stunned to move. Everything in him screamed to go inside and to claim you.

But he couldn't. He shouldn't.

And yet, he did.

He turned right back, opened the door and for the first time in four days, he stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.

He looked at you as you lay with his shirt pressed into your face, smelling it.

He knelt down beside you, taking deep breaths to remember your scent.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him.

"Took you long enough." you said as you moved to turn around and leave some space behind yourself.

"Shut it." he whispered before he moved to lay down with you in your nest, holding you close with his nose in your hair. "Omega." he said and it made you humm. "You smell so good." he took a deep breath and you smiled to yourself, not opening your eyes.

You put your hand on his which held you close by your stomach.

"You could have been here for my heat."

"I wouldn't have been able to control myself."

"Of course, you would have. You are Simon Riley... What made you realize that I wanted you here all along?"

"Your smell had a hint of sadness every day. But when I came into the room... you smelled like hope and..."

"Love." you finished for him. "Am I truly that obvious?"

"The smell of an Omega never lies to an Alpha."

"You are right, I'm a lot happier as well."

"Same."

"I wish we didn't have to leave."

"Same." he breathed out one last time before you fell asleep in his arms.

Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat.

And Simon never failed to notice that you made yours bigger, to give room to him.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[writerfromshikahr]

I want to state this is not a "hate Neve" piece. I wrote this originally as a bit of a tongue in cheek nod to players (perceived) frustrations about the flirting between Neve and Lucanis if you're romancing him. It was a one off piece originally and then a friend of mine encouraged me to write the whole damn thing. It's silly and probably not the best writing I have ever done, but it's a fun read (oh and long)!

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First Cut - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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It had been a mistake to stay in the room earlier, to stand there and watch Lucanis and Neve exchange flirtatious banter.

Neve had laughed, bright and melodious, and Lucanis had responded with a smile that seemed to light up the whole damn Lighthouse. Right in front of her. In front of her. The pang in her chest had been immediate and deep, leaving her breathless and struggling to maintain her composure.

Now, as she stood in the quietest corner she could find, away from everyone else, the hurt replayed itself over and over, accompanied by the cruel voice of self-doubt that she couldn’t quiet. What did you think would happen, Rook?…she chided herself. That he’d notice you when someone like Neve exists?

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment. Of course, Lucanis liked her. Why wouldn’t he? Neve was stunning, with her sleek, sophisticated appearance and the grace of a refined Minrathous mage. She always had the perfect thing to say, remaining calm under pressure and exuding an effortless charm that captivated everyone. Neve was flawless. Neve was everything a woman should be.

Rook, on the other hand, was… well, she let out a humourless laugh. She was “pleasantly plump,” as one Crow had called her, with thick thighs and a belly she had long since stopped trying to hide. Her Crow leathers had to be adjusted to fit her more comfortably around her hips and legs. Where Neve embodied elegance, Rook was simply Rook. Awkward, self-conscious, and hopelessly bad at saying anything clever, she always seemed to trip over her words or, worse, blurt out something completely foolish at the worst possible moments.

You thought he felt the same way about you, didn’t you? Her heart twisted painfully at the realization. What a cruel joke. The way he had looked at Neve today was proof enough, wasn’t it? She wasn’t his type. The message was received—loud and clear.

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Rook had become a master at avoidance over the past few days, though it was starting to wear her thin. Every time she caught a glimpse of Lucanis, her heart clenched painfully, so she did what she could to keep her distance. She slipped out of rooms when he walked in, buried herself in tasks that required her full attention, and, when it came to conversation, she only offered clipped, polite responses to Neve, refusing to engage in anything more. It hurt to keep her walls up, but it was the only way she could cope.

Instead, she found herself spending more time with Davrin and Assan, grateful for the easy friendship they shared. Davrin, with all his swagger and occasional theatrics, had a way of making her smile even when her heart felt heavy. He was like the big brother she never had, someone who made her feel safe and seen without any of the complications that seemed to swirl around Lucanis. And with the added charm of Assan, Davrin’s adorable toddler griffon companion, there was always something to laugh about.

Today, they’d ventured out to the Arlathan Forest, a welcome reprieve from the Lighthouse and all the tangled emotions that currently lived there. The forest was peaceful, a canopy of golden leaves rustling overhead, and Rook felt some of her tension ease. She and Davrin found a small clearing atop a rocky outcrop, perfect for Assan to practice his flying. The young griffon flapped his wings with eager determination, making little leaps and swoops that brought a genuine smile to Rook’s face.

They settled on the smooth granite, sharing a simple lunch of bread and cheese, and conversation flowed easily between them. Davrin regaled her with tales of growing up in Arlathan, his voice full of life and humour, and she listened, fascinated by his stories. In turn, he asked her questions about the Crows, and she answered as best she could, occasionally making light of some of the darker aspects of her life. They even exchanged stories about their respective fights—the Grey Wardens and their eternal struggle against Archdemons, and the Crows with their endless contracts and rivalries. Despite Davrin’s opinions about her line of work, he respected her. They had built a solid friendship, and she had come to value it deeply.

He could tell she needed this time away, and so he did what he did best: kept her entertained and laughing. Still, even with all the humour and warmth between them, Davrin wasn’t blind. He’d noticed that something seemed off, that Rook was more distracted than usual. And, more curiously, he’d noticed the absence of Lucanis. Usually, the two were practically joined at the hip, their bond undeniable. But now… there was a definite shift, and he wasn’t sure how—or if—he should bring it up. As he watched her thoughtfully, he finally spoke up, trying to sound casual.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s got you all twisted up, or are we just gonna pretend you haven’t been acting like your mind’s somewhere else entirely?”

Rook looked at him, startled by the question, but then she sighed, her shoulders sagging. She had hoped that spending time with Davrin and Assan would make her forget the pain, but there was no escaping how deeply it cut her. “It’s nothing,” she said softly, but even she could hear the lie in her voice.

Davrin didn’t push. He knew her well enough to know when to leave things be. Still, he reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, his usual cheeky grin softening. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’ve got your back, right?” Assan warbled in agreement, flapping his wings like he was seconding the sentiment.

Rook’s lips twitched into a small smile. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough to have someone who cared, someone who could make the world feel a little bit brighter. Even if she couldn’t outrun her feelings, at least she had friends who made the burden easier to carry.

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Lucanis’s gaze lingered on Rook, his expression dark with confusion and frustration. She had gone out of her way to placing as much distance between them as possible, choosing the spot farthest from him at the table, right between Davrin and Taash. She occasionally spoke, and her lips curved into a soft smile when Davrin leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh. The sound, bright and genuine, only twisted the knife deeper into Lucanis’s chest. She hadn’t even spared him a single glance.

He took a sip of his soup, the taste barely registering, and let out a sigh that was loud enough to draw Lace’s attention as she grabbed seconds and plopped down beside him. “This is one of the best meals you’ve cooked, Lucanis,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, it’s delicious.”

He mustered a small smile at the compliment, but his eyes drifted back to Rook. He missed her terribly—her company, their conversations, and, most of all, the way her laughter used to be directed at him. Now, it was as if he had become invisible. What did I do? he thought, trying to piece together where he’d gone wrong.

Neve, who had also taken a seat nearby, picked up on his brooding mood. She arched an eyebrow and gave him a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me my assassin is feeling broody this evening?” she asked, her tone playful.

Lucanis’s eyes flicked over to her, unfocused. “What?”

Neve rolled her eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and dipping it into her soup. “I said, you seem broody tonight,” she repeated, though she didn’t seem all that concerned about it.

He nodded, distracted, and looked back at Rook, who was still doing her best to ignore him. “Perhaps I am, Neve,” he replied, the words tasting bitter. It was infuriating how Rook refused to acknowledge him as if he’d become a ghost. He had replayed every conversation and every moment from the past few days, trying to figure out when he might have crossed a line, said something careless, or given any reason for her to pull away. Yet he kept coming up empty.

Spite, normally full of commentary and sass, had fallen unusually silent. Then again, Spite tended to grow quieter whenever Neve was around.

Neve leaned closer, trying to pull his attention back to her. “Do you want to catch up this evening?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest. “I found a book I think will be right up your alley.”

Lucanis had barely registered her words, his mind too full of the ache that was Rook. He blinked at Neve, his expression blank. “A book?” he echoed, his voice distant.

Neve, clearly unimpressed, shook her head. “Yes, Lucanis. I have one for you,” she repeated, with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh,” he said, realizing he’d made her repeat herself. “Sure, I’ll swing by later and get it from you.” His reply sounded mechanical like he was going through the motions. But then, out of nowhere, Rook’s laughter cut through the air, loud and free, a burst of joy that caught everyone’s attention. Even Taash choked on her drink, snorting with amusement.

Lucanis felt his heart sink further. Yeah, he thought miserably. I hate it here. Watching Rook smile at Davrin felt like punishment, and not knowing how to fix things between them was driving him mad. He had no idea how to bridge the growing distance or why he had ended up here in the first place, and that, more than anything, was the most frustrating part.

----------------------------------------------------------

Rook’s heart hammered in her chest as she froze in the hallway, seeing Lucanis waiting for her. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and walk the other way, to avoid whatever painful conversation was about to unfold, but she knew she couldn’t keep running. You can do this, she told herself, her throat tightening. She drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and forced herself to speak.

“Lucanis,” she greeted, her voice carefully cool. “Is there something I can do for you?”

His brow furrowed, confusion and frustration warring on his face. “What is happening, Rook?” he asked, a hint of exasperation leaking through. “Why are you avoiding me?”

She looked away from his gaze, her eyes fixing firmly on the stone floor. If she looked at him—into those deep, dark eyes that always managed to see straight through her—she knew she’d cave. She wasn’t ready for that. For once, she was determined not to fold, to hang onto her anger, even if it pained her. “I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her tone clipped. “I’ve been busy, you know, saving the world, fighting ancient gods… that kind of thing.”

Lucanis regarded her quietly, the weight of his gaze like a physical thing pressing down on her. “I see, have I said something or done something?”

Rook forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “No, I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat and devoid of the warmth she usually reserved for him. The fine was a lie, but she clung to it desperately. It felt safer than admitting how badly he’d wounded her. And it gave her a semblance of control over her heart, a way to shield herself from the crushing weight of feeling like she wasn’t enough.

Lucanis tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Fine?” he repeated, scepticism heavy in his voice. “Hmm. It doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

He took a step closer, and Rook instinctively backed up, keeping the same distance between them. She wouldn’t let him close, not when her heart was so fragile. “Perhaps you should go pick up that book from Neve,” she shot back, “I’m sure she’ll have your favourite coffee brewed and waiting.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened a fraction, the hurt flashing across his features unmistakable. Before he could respond, she brushed past him, retreating into her room and closing the door behind her. She leaned against it, breathing hard, fighting the urge to cry.

In the hallway, Lucanis stood in stunned silence, the shadows around him deepening as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His head tilted slightly, confusion etched on his face. Was this about Neve? The question churned in his mind, sending him spiralling back through every conversation, every interaction with Neve, searching for any clue. Why would Rook mention her?

It was then that Spite finally spoke up, his voice echoing in the corners of Lucanis’s mind. “Tastes like… envy,” the demon mused, each word slow and almost thoughtful. “Yes. Bitter. Sharp.”

Lucanis’s eyes widened in sudden realization. Envy. Rook was jealous? His heart lurched at the thought, a mix of confusion, guilt, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jealous of what? That was the bigger question, but he had a place to start, which was more than he had moments before.

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Lucanis listened to Neve, his gaze thoughtful as he leaned back into the couch, sipping his coffee. The cozy yet refined atmosphere of her room couldn’t fully soothe his restless mind. "Jealous? Of me? Odd," Neve mused, sounding genuinely perplexed. "We aren't exactly bosom buddies, but we've always had a good working relationship. She's a capable archer, highly recommended if you listen to House de Riva. And she’s... well, sweet. Maybe a little too sweet at times. The world can be harsh, and people like Rook don't always make it out in one piece."

Lucanis tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Sweet? Yes, she is,” he agreed, but there was more to it. “there’s strength in her, too. The kind that can get us through this, no matter how bad things get.” He paused, searching Neve’s eyes. “You know why Viago sent her out of Antiva, right?”

Neve nodded, her brow knitting together slightly. “I got the gist from him. He seemed… displeased.”

Lucanis’s smile widened a fraction. “Viago is always displeased,” he said with a hint of humour, “but he does have a soft spot for Rook, even if he won’t admit it. She climbed the ranks fast. Full membership with the Crows at a young age. Orphaned and taken in by House de Riva when she was around eight. But what got her exiled was taking initiative where she shouldn’t have.” He swirled his coffee, his eyes reflecting a complicated mix of pride and sadness. “She has heart—a soft one, maybe—but she freed a group of prisoners and slaves one night, prisoners the Antaam would’ve had executed. Varric was among them. You know that part.”

Neve leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Yes, but?”

“But,” Lucanis continued, “her actions derailed a much larger operation. She saved lives, but it cost the Crows.. That’s what led to her downfall.” He stared into his coffee, the steam curling up like ghostly whispers. “She’s got a good heart.”

Neve considered his words, sitting beside him and absorbing the weight of what he’d said. “A good heart that ultimately got her kicked out of her city,” she pointed out, “But that doesn’t explain why she’s jealous of me.”

Lucanis gave her a wry smile, one brow lifting slightly. “I figured the renowned Minrathous detective might have some insight to bestow upon me.”

Neve laughed, the sound warm and clear. “Oh, sure. Because I’m great with people, right?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tell you what: maybe I’ll have a word with Davrin. They’re close. Leave it with me, and I’ll get back to you.”

Lucanis's smile softened, but his heart felt heavy with uncertainty. "I appreciate it," he said, though the thought of Rook feeling hurt, even if it was out of jealousy, left an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite shake.

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“Jealous?” Davrin echoed, his eyebrows rising with genuine surprise. “Of you? Hmm... nope. She hasn’t said anything to me, but she has been distracted. Yeah, that’s the right word.” He set down his latest whittling project, a small wooden figure of what looked like a griffon, and studied Neve with his usual thoughtful expression. “But she hasn’t said anything to you?”

Neve shook her head. “Nothing, I’m afraid.”

Davrin let out a sigh, leaning back. “Look, Rook is a good person, but even I know some people need space from time to time. I’m not going to pressure her into telling me anything she doesn’t want to share. But...” he trailed off, tapping his chin, “she and Lucanis used to be practically joined at the hip. Wherever he was, she’d be right there. If you ask me, she’s sweet on him, and it’s not just that whole Crow loyalty thing.”

Neve’s eyes widened slightly. “She has a crush?”

Davrin shook his head with a small smile. “No, not a crush. She likes him. I can see it in the way she is around him, and I know her pretty well.”

Neve frowned, her mind racing. “So... what do I have to do with all of this? Seems a little strange that I’d be involved.”

Davrin tilted his head, smirking a little. “Well, who told you she was jealous?”

“Lucanis,” Neve replied, sounding almost exasperated.

“But who told him?” Davrin shot back, a knowing grin on his face.

Neve paused, then rolled her eyes. “Spite told him,” she admitted with a touch of reluctance.

Davrin’s laughter burst out, loud and unapologetic. “Oh, so we’re taking the word of a demon now?” He shook his head, clearly entertained. “This is hilarious.”

Neve threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Lucanis takes him seriously! And to be fair, that demon has never led us astray.” Her lips twitched with a hint of amusement despite herself.

Davrin exhaled, the humour fading to something more contemplative. “All right, leave it with me. Rook and I are heading out to Lavendel together soon. I’ll have a chat with her, and see if I can make sense of this mess.”

Neve nodded, a small smile of relief crossing her face. “Thanks, Davrin. Just... tread carefully, okay? Whatever’s going on, it matters a lot to her.”

Davrin gave her a mock salute. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” But as he picked up his whittling project again, he couldn’t help but wonder if his friend was ready to admit the truth to herself.

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"What the fuck, Davrin? Who told you that?!"

Davrin blinked in surprise at Rook's outburst. "Who told you I was jealous of Neve?!"

"Hey, I’m just asking for interested parties. They figured I’d know what’s up with my friend," he replied, holding his hands up defensively.

Rook turned away from him, her fists clenched at her sides. She was too angry to speak—not at Davrin, no. Davrin could annoy her, sure, but Lucanis? He could make her seethe. And knowing that this line of questioning was coming from Neve of all people made her want to throw herself straight into the Fade, never to return.

"Rook," Davrin said quietly, his tone unusually gentle, "I promise, I won’t breathe a word if you tell me what’s bothering you. Warden’s honor."

Rook glanced at him, catching the earnestness in his expression. For once, he wasn’t cracking a joke to lighten the mood. She let out a sharp exhale and looked away again, debating whether to open up. Finally, she gave in.

“I swear to the Maker, if you report back to them, I’ll take out a contract on you,” she grumbled before the words burst out of her. “It’s the fucking flirting! Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible. I—well…” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “I like him, and he never flirts with me. Never mentions anything about buying me something at the markets, or, ‘Hey, Rook, here’s a flower I picked for you,’ or anything like that. Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Well, I know what’s wrong with me. Look at me. Look at this!”

She grabbed her thigh angrily, gesturing in frustration.

Davrin didn’t interrupt. He just listened, his expression calm and steady, letting her vent it all out.

“She’s perfect,” Rook continued, her voice shaking with anger. “Perfect hair, perfect outfits, perfect everything. And then there’s me—always saying the wrong thing, always crumpled. And he’s all, ‘Wow, Neve, great shot,’ while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn and not once does that man say anything.”

Davrin waited a beat to make sure she was finished before speaking. “I see. Well, thank you for finally telling me. I feel like we’re making progress here.”

Rook shot him a sharp look, her frustration now turning toward him.

“So, you like Lucanis,” Davrin said with a knowing smile. “I thought as much. I mean, it was obvious to me—everyone else seems to be walking around with blinders on.”

Rook groaned, dramatically flopping her head into her hands. “Don’t tell me that, Dav. It’s not making me feel any better. I already feel like the biggest idiot alive. I guess Viago was right.”

Davrin slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, his tone soft but firm. “That’s my friend you’re talking about, and I don’t take kindly to people putting her down. Question is, where do you go from here?”

Rook let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m so angry at him right now. And unfairly pissed off at Neve. But I can’t forgive him yet. I’m far too in my ‘petty era’ right now.”

“I can tell, Rook,” Davrin began, his voice steady but not unkind. “Thing is, he doesn’t know what he’s done. Not sure how the man is supposed to make amends if he isn’t told.”

Rook stared off into the small village that Davrin and her had spent the last two days protecting from the Blight, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “How does he not know? The man is a walking romance novel with her! Why doesn’t he do that with me?” She paused, her voice dropping into something quieter. “I know I’m not like her… I get that…”

Davrin cut her off before she could spiral any further. “For the love of the Maker, Rook, you’re gorgeous. Why do you keep comparing yourself to her? Sure, you’re nothing like Neve, but you’re you, and that ain’t bad.”

Rook gave him a deadpan stare, one eyebrow arching. “Really? Now you’re hitting on me?”

“Fuck no,” Davrin shot back with mock indignation. “I know who your boyfriend is... and he terrifies me.”

Rook snorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “He’s not my boyfriend. I have no idea what we are. At the moment, he just annoys me.” She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I’m going to have to talk to him, aren’t I?”

There was a note of defeat in her voice, like she was resigning herself to some inevitable punishment.

“Fuck… why do I have to be the one to do it? I want him to apologize. I want him to beg for forgiveness.” She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Wow, I really am being petty.”

Davrin grinned, his expression both amused and supportive. “Yes, but it suits you.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you want me to say something to him? Informing him of his gross oversight of sneaking around trying to find out what’s wrong with you and then maybe steer him toward an ‘ah-ha’ moment?”

“You’d do that for me?” she asked quietly, her voice softer now, vulnerable.

“Of course,” Davrin said with a mock-serious nod. “Killing darkspawn, being a baby daddy to Assan, and sorting out budding romances at the Lighthouse? Those are my specialties.”

Rook rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm. “Dumbass.”

Davrin grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Maybe so,” he said, leaning back with exaggerated confidence, “but I’m your dumbass. And where would you be without me?”

----------------------------------------------------------

Lucanis had been quiet all day. Davrin knew he was a man of few words, but today’s outing with him and Lace had been decidedly less chatty than normal. Now, they sat around a tavern table, finally letting some warmth soak into their bones. The Lighthouse’s perpetual twilight made it easy to forget the biting cold of Thedas, but the roaring fire beside them was a rare luxury this evening.

Davrin watched Lucanis as he stared into his coffee mug, the steam curling up like ghosts between his hands. Lace was busy chatting with the patrons at a nearby table, her laughter carrying faintly over the hum of conversation.

“So, Lucanis,” Davrin said casually, breaking the silence. “You’ve been a little quiet today. Anything amiss?”

Lucanis looked up, his dark eyes sharp, “I’m not in the mood.” His tone was flat, cold.

For a moment, silence hung between them, but Davrin wasn’t one to back down so easily. He leaned back in his chair, watching Lucanis carefully. “I see that,” he said finally. “Wondering if I can help you out with that?”

Lucanis sipped his coffee, his gaze distant, and he could tell he was mulling something over. “You know Rook well,” the assassin said after a long pause. “Probably better than I.”

Davrin shifted in his chair, not entirely sure where this was going. He prayed to the Maker it didn’t involve knives. “Ahhh, yes,” he replied cautiously. “Though I’d say you know our fearless leader pretty well too.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” Lucanis’s words were quiet but firm, his eyes flicking back to him for a moment before returning to his coffee cup.

Davrin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m guessing you’re looking for answers,” he said lightly, nodding toward the mug. “Doubtful you’ll find them in there, my friend.”

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at Lucanis’s lips. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But coffee is good for reflection.” He paused, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him visibly. “I’ve done something. I know I have. But she won’t tell me what it is, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well, I know what you’ve done.”

Davrin smiled slyly, taking a sip of his beer like he wasn’t about to drop a bombshell. “It’s your lucky day, Crow.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. “You know?”

The Warden nodded, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Sure do. And I can’t say it’s an easy fix—for you, at least. But,” he added, setting his mug down with a heavy clink, “if you applied as much effort into correcting your mistake as you do into flirting with a certain detective, you might just win her heart back.”

Davrin punctuated his sentence with a deep, exaggerated gulp of his drink, clearly pleased with himself.

Lucanis just looked at him, his face blank, and said nothing for the longest while. The lively chatter and laughter of the tavern seemed to fill the silence as Davrin waited, unsure if he had heard him.

“Flirting?” Lucanis repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and offense. “With Neve? Flirting, as in me being suggestive with Neve?”

Davrin smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you need to say it a third time, Crow? Whatever way you cut it, it still sounds a bit... shit.”

Lucanis blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to argue, but Davrin pressed on, clearly enjoying himself.

“I guess Rook just got fed up with hearing about you wanting to buy Neve fresh fish and flowers at the market.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Oh, and I think she said—” Davrin cleared his throat for dramatic effect—“and I quote: ‘And he’s all, “Wow, Neve, great shot,” while I’ve just literally slaughtered ten thousand darkspawn, and not once does that man say anything.’”

He leaned back with a satisfied grin, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, I think that about covers the gist of what she vented to me for a solid 45 minutes.”

“Mierda,” Lucanis muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Davrin waved at the serving girl over with a grin. “Yes, you’re screwed, Lucanis,” he said cheerfully. “But, as I mentioned, you can make this better… I think.” He ordered another beer for himself and a fresh coffee for his brooding friend.

Lucanis’s brow furrowed, his voice low and resigned. “What else did she say? I need to know just how much of a gilipollas I’ve been.”

Davrin laughed, the sound loud enough to turn a few heads nearby. “I’m assuming that’s something bad—and if it is, you deserve it.” He leaned back, his grin widening. “Let’s see… what else did she say? Oh, right!”

Davrin sat forward, lowering his voice to mimic Rook’s, exaggerating her frustration: ‘Nothing! I get nothing. It’s infuriating. What is wrong with me? Neve and Lucanis flirt all the fucking time, and I’M RIGHT FUCKING THERE! They just flirt like I’m invisible.’ He leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “And, of course, more liberal usage of the word ‘fuck.’”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lucanis muttered, his voice low. He slumped back in his chair, looking more defeated than Davrin had ever seen him. “I’m not sure what I’m meant to say. I don’t mean anything by it—the flirting. I never thought…”

“No, you didn’t,” Davrin cut in sharply, holding up a hand to stop him. “Why would you? You ask her for advice on gifts for Neve, buy her nothing, and expect everything to be fine?” He shook his head, leaning forward. “Shit, Lucanis, you could pick Rook a flower off a random bush in Arlathan, and she’d be insufferably happy for days. I do it all the time for her, and I don’t even want to fuck her.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed deeper, but he didn’t interrupt.

Davrin leaned back with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bare minimum, my friend. Bare. Minimum. And you’ve somehow managed to fall below that. Impressive, really.”

He punctuated his words with a long swig of his beer, shaking his head as he set the mug down.

“So, this is how you’re going to fix this,” Davrin began, pointing a finger at Lucanis for emphasis. “After we’re done at this outpost, we’re heading home, and you are going to beg for some kind of forgiveness. Kneel if you have to. Hell, throw in a prayer to the Maker while you’re at it and hope that gorgeous woman decides to give you another chance.”

Lucanis stared at him, his mouth opening slightly, but Davrin didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And keep your damn mouth shut around Neve,” Davrin continued, leaning forward for extra emphasis. “I get it—Neve is damn fine to look at. But those thoughts? Inside thoughts, not outside thoughts, Lucanis. And for the love of everything holy, make sure your demon is on board with this too.”

Lucanis fiddle with the handle on his cup, guilt practically radiating off him, but Davrin wasn’t done.

“She likes you, I know she does. But she’s hurt, and a woman scorned is a terrifying force of nature.”

Davrin sat back, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “So what’s the plan, Crow?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Lucanis muttered, running a hand down his face. “I’ll think of something. I’ll fix this.”

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Davrin.

“It better be good,” Davrin said pointedly, leaning back in his chair. “Because she is pissed, and I don’t blame her. And for the love of the Maker, can you tell her that you like her? It’s clear as day to me, but she has no idea. She thinks you don’t even see her.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to retort, but Davrin barreled on.

“This whole ‘I’m possessed by a demon and I can’t love anyone’ trope is old, Lucanis. If you can charm Neve halfway around Minrathous, you can bloody well lavish some of that charm on Rook.”

“I’ll fix it,” Lucanis said firmly, though the conviction in his voice wavered just slightly. “And… thank you, for letting me know.”

Davrin gave him a hearty pat on the back, his grin equal parts teasing and supportive. “I don’t envy you, Lucanis. I thought fighting the ancient Gods was going to be tough, but this? Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Lucanis let out a quiet breath, half a smile tugging at his lips. He knew Davrin was right.

----------------------------------------------------------

He found her up on the balcony, as he expected. Rook often went there to read when she needed space from everyone else. Davrin slid onto the bench beside her, and they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet of the moment broken only by the rustle of pages and the distant sounds of the Lighthouse.

Assan nuzzled his head against Rook’s arm, demanding pats, which she happily obliged, scratching behind the young griffon’s ears.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said finally, her voice soft but genuine. “I missed you. Did it go well?”

Davrin smiled, leaning back. “Of course it did. Harding is a terrible cook, though... but apart from that, we got the job done.”

Rook huffed a laugh, but before she could reply, Davrin added, almost too casually, “Oh, and I spoke to the Crow.”

Rook froze for a moment, her smile faltering. “Oh, Maker, how did that go?” She waved a hand before he could answer. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I’ve been perfectly happy here without him.”

Davrin turned his head, giving her a pointed side-eye. “Sure, sure... you’ve been perfectly happy.”

Rook glared at him over the top of her book, but he wasn’t done.

“He knows what he’s done wrong now,” Davrin continued with a shrug, “and is, and I quote, ‘formulating a plan,’ whatever the fuck that means.”

“A plan?” Rook repeated, her gaze drifting off into the endless expanse of the Fade sky. She hesitated, her fingers absently scratching Assan’s feathers as she gathered her thoughts. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want complete honesty. Even if it’s not what I want to hear.”

Davrin tilted his head, his smile softening. “Always.”

Rook turned to him, her voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “Does the man even remotely like me?”

Davrin’s grin widened as he leaned back against the railing, taking a moment before answering. “Rook,” he said slowly, “I watched the blood drain out of the his face when I laid it all out on the table for him. I have never seen such a sorry sight.” He paused, his tone turning more sincere. “If that’s any indication of what he’s feeling, I think he’s sweet on you.”

Rook’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable.

“He’s clueless,” Davrin added with a shrug. “I doubt he’s ever had a relationship before. Doesn’t excuse what he did, but I know he’ll fix it—or at least try to.”

Rook leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why is life so hard? Everything feels so complicated, and I’m so tired. I know you said I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone, but… I don’t always feel strong, you know?” She paused, her fingers idly stroking Assan’s feathers. “Have I blown this all out of proportion? I think… I think I need to speak to Neve. She’s lovely—I know she is.”

Davrin stayed quiet for a long moment, his usual humor replaced by a thoughtful stillness.

“I think, sometimes, Rook,” he said softly, “you don’t see yourself the way the rest of us see you. At the heart of it all, you’re a good person. And yes, you’re beautiful too.”

Rook shifted slightly, about to protest, but Davrin pressed on.

“People come in all shapes and sizes. That doesn’t make anyone worth less than the next person. Maybe instead of comparing yourself to what you’re not, you should take a hard look at all the amazing things you are. All the shit you’ve accomplished under impossible odds. Hell, you’ve even put Solas in his place a few times—and that guy’s a dick.”

“That’s a weird way to ask me out on a date, Dav,” Rook said with a small smile, her eyes glinting with playful mischief.

Davrin laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the balcony. “You wish, de Riva. You and me would never work out.” He leaned back, grinning. “Besides, I come with a kid in tow—parenthood is tough.”

Rook chuckled, scratching Assan under the chin as the griffon chirped contentedly.

“Nah,” Davrin continued, “I think you’re more suited to the stabbity-stab life of Crow intrigue. I’m just a simple man, a Grey Warden with modest needs. You’d outlive me, no doubt, and I can’t have you being all mopey about the charming and heroic warrior you once knew.”

----------------------------------------------------------

She heard the faint rustle of a note slipping under her door just as she was drifting off to sleep. For a moment, she considered leaving it there until morning, her exhaustion tugging at her. But curiosity got the better of her.

Pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor. With a quiet sigh, she padded across the room, picked up the envelope, and sank into the worn couch by the window.

The candlelight flickered softly, casting long shadows as she slid her finger under the seal. The handwriting inside was instantly familiar, and her breath caught as she unfolded the letter.

-----

Rook,

I have thought about what to write in this letter to you for days as we made our way back home. I am usually good at making plans and coming up with solutions to any problem. Unfortunately, in this case, I am the problem, and I don’t know how to fix the hurt I’ve caused you.

That being said, I will try to make this right. If you decide not to accept my apology, I will understand. But if you can find it in your heart to let me make this up to you, I would be grateful.

Meet me in Treviso tomorrow evening at my favourite café—you know the one. We went there not long after I joined you at the Lighthouse.

I will wait for you.

—Lucanis

-----

Rook sank back into her couch, the letter still clutched against her chest. Stupid Antivan man, she thought, her lips twitching into a faint smile despite herself.

She couldn’t deny it—no matter how frustrated she was, no matter how much she wanted to stay angry—she was willing to hear him out.

----------------------------------------------------------

There was a knock at the door.

“Can I come in, Rook?” Neve’s voice was soft but firm.

From inside, she heard a flurry of shuffling, a thud, and several muffled expletives. Finally, the door creaked open.

“Yes, come in,” Rook said, rubbing her toe with a wince. “I’m just getting ready to…”

Neve smiled knowingly. “Meet Lucanis in Treviso. I know.”

Rook sighed, slumping back slightly. “Of course you know. He probably told you.”

She moved to the couch, sitting down to pull on her boots, her movements stiff with nervous energy. Neve stepped inside, her gaze drifting to the window where the shimmering fish swam lazily outside.

“You really do have the best room at the Lighthouse,” Neve remarked, her voice distant. “No wisps, just the fish.” She turned back to Rook, her expression softening. “No, he didn’t tell me. Davrin did.”

Rook paused, her hands hovering over her laces.

“I wanted to stop by and tell you to enjoy yourself,” Neve continued. “If I know Lucanis, he’ll have a wonderful evening planned for you.” She hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, her tone quieter but no less sincere. “And I also wanted to tell you... I envy you.”

Rook’s head snapped up in surprise. “Envy me?”

Neve gave a small, bittersweet smile. “He’s a good man, apart from the whole abomination thing he’s got going on.” Her smile widened slightly, a hint of humor in her voice. “I’ll admit, I entertained the idea of him and me once. But it was clear his heart had already chosen another.”

Rook opened her mouth to respond, but Neve cut her off gently.

“Like all men, he’s a bit of an idiot, and he’s made mistakes,” Neve said, her gaze steady. “But if you let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Rook admitted, her voice quieter now. “I do feel stupid for being unkind to you. I’m sorry about that.”

Neve waved the apology away with a small smile. “No need for deep and meaningfuls, Rook. We’re both busy women with jobs to do. But tonight?” She stepped closer, her expression softening. “You have a date with a Crow.”

Rook shifted awkwardly, Neve’s eyes scanning her as if assessing her readiness. “I know,” Rook said, glancing down at herself. “I’m in my leathers. I probably should have dressed—”

Neve cut her off with a laugh. “I saw Lucanis leave for the Eluvian. He was dressed in his too. Are you Crows ever not on the clock?”

Rook chuckled despite herself. “You’ve met my boss, right? Viago?”

Neve grinned. “Point taken.” She reached for the door, her hand hovering for a moment before turning back. “Anyway, enjoy your evening. I hope it’s everything you need and want.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Davrin had insisted on accompanying her through the Eluvian to Treviso, despite her protests.

“You didn’t need to escort me, Dav,” Rook said as they stepped out into the bustling city. She smoothed down her cloak, her tone exasperated but affectionate. “I’m more than capable of navigating a city I’ve lived in most of my life.”

“Yeah, I know,” Davrin replied with a casual shrug. “But I did need to come here. Lucanis has me set up with his blacksmith. And, well…” He paused, glancing sideways at her. “I wanted to make sure you got here okay. If things go south, you know I’m around.”

Rook nudged him with her elbow, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve never had a brother, but you are bordering on the whole ‘protective big brother’ vibes right now. And I have to say, it suits you.”

Davrin smiled shyly, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you’re pissed at Dellamorte,” he said softly. “I get it. But let him speak. Give him a chance, Rook.”

She sighed, her gaze dropping for a moment. “I’m not that angry anymore. I spoke to Neve before heading here—she came to my room.”

Davrin raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly amused. “Please tell me she left said room. I know what you Crows are like,” he added with a chuckle.

Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “She’s very much alive, thank you. And she said something… odd. Something I wasn’t expecting.”

“Oh?” Davrin leaned in, curious.

“She said she was envious of me,” Rook admitted, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Davrin stopped in his tracks, raising both eyebrows now. “Well, well,” he said with exaggerated flair. “It seems we’ve come full circle. Now she’s jealous of you! I believe I’m experiencing whiplash.”

As they walked along the bustling streets of her hometown, Rook couldn’t ignore the faint queasiness in her stomach. She wasn’t angry anymore—not really. More… disgruntled. But there was no venom behind the feeling now. Lucanis had made a mistake, and, if she was being honest with herself, she’d probably blown it out of proportion—a tendency she sometimes leaned into more than she should.

At least she’d managed to entertain everyone at the Lighthouse with the intrigue and drama.

“Ahhh, I love it here,” Davrin mused, breaking her train of thought. His eyes roamed the lively street, the laughter and chatter of the city swirling around them. “Great atmosphere, excellent food, and some rather beautiful distractions for the taking.”

Rook rolled her eyes, her nerves briefly forgotten as she fought back a smirk.

“And it seems,” Davrin added with a dramatic flourish as they neared the café, “I have delivered you to your destination, my Queen.” He swept into an exaggerated bow, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Maker, you’re an idiot,” Rook said, shaking her head with a smile. “But I love you despite it.”

Davrin grinned and placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, leaning in just slightly. “You’ve got this, Rook. Go forth and get your man and—let him speak. He can actually be pretty good at it, you know, when he’s not saying all the wrong things.”

Rook took a deep breath, her nerves settling just enough to nod. “Wish me luck?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Davrin shook his head, his grin softening into something more earnest. “Nah, you don’t need it. You’ve got this, girl. No luck required.”

He stepped ahead and held the door open for her. She squared her shoulders and walked through, the warm hum of the café greeting her as she crossed the threshold.

Davrin lingered outside for a moment, watching her disappear inside. He knew, deep down, it would all be okay. But still, a small pang of worry tugged at him—for his friend, for her heart, and for the man she was about to face.

----------------------------------------------------------

The café was empty.

Anxiety, her old and unwelcome friend, crept up her spine as she glanced around the dimly lit space. Had she gotten the wrong day? The wrong time? Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she dug into her bag, pulling out the note Lucanis had sent. She unfolded it with shaky fingers, scanning the words again, double-checking that she hadn’t misread anything.

No. She was in the right place.

But as her eyes flicked to the counter, the absence of anyone behind it made her chest tighten further. The café felt eerily quiet, the usual hum of conversation replaced by the soft ticking of a clock.

Now she felt like the idiot. Where was he? And why was she standing awkwardly in an empty coffee shop at eight o’clock at night?

As a Crow, this screamed assassination attempt, and the thought made her pulse quicken. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of the blade hidden beneath her cloak.

Not that she’d ever killed anyone with a dirk before—a bow and arrows was her usual go-to—but the weight of the blade under her fingers offered some small comfort. Her unease grew as she wandered further into the café, cautiously checking dark corners and peeking around the pillars.

She moved closer to the counter, her nerves prickling with every step, when suddenly, Lucanis popped up from behind it.

“Maker’s breath!” Rook yelped, jumping back, her heart hammering as she glared at him.

Lucanis stood there, his dark eyes warm as they met hers, and a small, gorgeous smile spread across his lips—the one that always managed to disarm her.

“Rook,” he said softly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “You came.”

“Why were you hiding behind the counter?!” Rook exclaimed, her voice sharp with surprise.

Lucanis straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his leathers. “I was looking for sugar,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know you like your coffee sweet and hot. Good news: I found it.”

He turned his attention to the coffee pot, busying himself with making their drinks as if nothing about this was out of the ordinary.

Rook crossed her arms, glancing around the empty café. “And you now own this place?” she asked, her tone tinged with amusement.

Lucanis smirked, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I asked the owner for a favor and promised to pay him back with a free contract.”

Rook blinked in surprise before letting out a laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not,” she said, shaking her head. “You never work for free.”

“Sometimes I do,” Lucanis said with a small smile, handing her the steaming cup. “Let’s sit… the table over there.”

He gestured toward a cozy corner, and Rook’s gaze followed. The table had been set perfectly, a small display of her favorite desserts arranged neatly on a plate, waiting for her.

Her lips twitched in a faint smile as she followed him. They settled into their chairs, and for a moment, a comfortable silence fell between them as they both enjoyed the first few sips of their drinks.

Lucanis leaned back, cradling his cup in his hands. “Good coffee...And yours?”

Rook took another sip, savoring the warmth and sweetness. It was perfect—just the way she liked it. “You know it’s good,” she replied, glancing at him over the rim of her cup. “If there’s one thing you never fail at, it’s making it exactly the way I like it.”

A satisfied smile spread across his face, lighting his dark eyes.

Setting her cup down, Rook slipped off her gloves and laid them neatly on the table, the nervous energy in her hands too much to contain. Lucanis noticed, of course—he always did. He knew her tells. Whenever she was anxious, she’d fidget, her fingers tracing the stitching of her coat over and over again or right now, fiddling with her gloves,

“Rook…” he began, his voice soft, testing the waters, “I’m sorry—” , but Rook cut him off.

“I know I’m an idiot,” she blurted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I should have just told you, and instead it became this whole thing involving everyone, and I didn’t mean for it to get so... big. It was stupid of me.”

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his gaze steady and unreadable. Then, without a word, he placed his hand gently over hers.

“Rook,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything,” she replied, immediately defensive. She picked up her cup again, taking a long sip—anything to avoid his gaze.

“Blaming yourself. Apologising for things you don’t need to apologise for,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “I am the one to blame for your worries. I was the one who hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know,” Rook said quickly, her words tumbling out before she could think better of them. “And if I hadn’t been so damn stubborn—or dare I say petulant—I could have just told you. But I felt… well, I did feel stupid.”

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her voice softening as she admitted, “You were an arse though.”

A faint smile flickered across his face, but he stayed quiet, waiting.

“Why did you do it?” she asked, her eyes meeting his briefly before darting away. “It’s okay if you want to—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, before her mouth could betray her further, she grabbed one of the neatly arranged cakes from the plate and shoved it into her mouth.

It worked—a bit too well. She sat frozen for a moment, cheeks puffed with cake, as the realisation of what she’d just done hit her. Across the table, Lucanis raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

It took forever to get through the sugary treat—she’d completely forgotten how chewy they were. Looking effortlessly graceful with a mouthful of cake was not the impression she’d been going for.

Lucanis, ever observant, seized the opportunity to speak before she could finish. It might be the only way to get a word in.

“Yes,” he began, his tone quiet but deliberate. “I fully accept your blunt observation of myself.”

Rook raised an eyebrow at him, still chewing, but didn’t interrupt.

“Why I did it?” Lucanis continued, his gaze dropping briefly to the table. “It’s… was easy to flirt with Neve. A distraction from what’s in my mind, who shares my body, and everything else—fighting Gods, dealing with the Blight…” He paused, his voice softening. “But, also, it means nothing. And when it means nothing, there’s no possibility of consequences.”

“Consequences?” she managed, still chewing, her words slightly muffled.

“Yes,” Lucanis replied, his voice steady but quieter now. “If I don’t say those things to you, it’s not because I don’t notice you, enjoy your company, or desire someone else. It’s quite the opposite.”

Rook froze mid-chew, her eyes widening slightly as she watched him, his gaze fixed firmly on her.

“But how would you know this?” he continued, his tone filled with a rare vulnerability. “I’ve never told you. And I have never reciprocated any of the affection you have so generously given me.”

“But you said consequences, and I’m still not following,” Rook said, finally finishing her cake.

Lucanis sighed, frustration flickering across his face. Maker, he wished he were better with words—like his cousin Illario. “Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m trying to say right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before meeting her eyes again.

“I’m not good at this, Rook,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I struggle with you because… because you mean something to me. You’re not just a distraction. You’re something that has—” He hesitated, the next word slipping out before he could stop it. “...weight.”

He saw her gaze drop instantly to her coffee, her expression unreadable.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucanis’s stomach dropped. Why the fuck did you say that? Davrin had specifically told him not to mention the word weight.

“Yes, I’m aware I have ‘weight,’” she replied, her tone dry as she raised an eyebrow at him.

Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, gesturing to the plate. “Thank you for highlighting that right after watching me devour at least three of these cakes.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a mock-serious expression. “And for the record, they were delicious, and I have zero regrets eating them.”

“What I meant is… you’re special to me,” Lucanis said, his voice quieter now, his dark eyes meeting hers. “To Spite, as well. And that’s dangerous to admit. It’s information that could be used against me—or you. And Maker knows Viago will not be pleased.”

He paused, frustration clear on his face. “I never flirted with you because… because I care for you. More than a friend.” His voice softened, the words weighted with sincerity. “Hopefully, I get to be more. But I’m the most foolish of men when it comes to matters of the heart. I’m not good at… any of this.”

Rook’s gaze shifted, taking in the café around her. The warm, romantic glow of the lights, the beautifully laid-out table, the intimacy of the setting—it all seemed so deliberate, so unlike the Lucanis she thought she knew.

Her eyes landed back on him, and she arched an eyebrow. “You’re not good at being romantic? Or apologies? Because, by the way, you still haven’t said sorry.”

“Despite my Antivan heritage, we aren’t all blessed with my cousin’s gift for romance,” Lucanis said with a wry smile. “But I’ll try—for you.”

He stood, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape against the floor, and stepped around the table.

“And this,” he continued, his voice dropping to something softer, almost reverent, “is where I kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.”

Before Rook could react, he sank to one knee before her, taking her hand gently in his. His eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression utterly sincere.

“I am sorry,” he began, his voice steady but weighted with emotion. “For any hurt I caused you. I am sorry for my misplaced charm. I am sorry for letting you think you are anything less than breathtaking to me.”

Her breath caught, the words hitting her like a wave.

“I am sorry you ever felt you were not enough,” he went on, his thumb brushing softly against her knuckles, “when you are—more than enough in every way a woman can be. I am sorry. Truly sorry.”

He paused, his voice softening even further as he added, “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I swear to you—you will never doubt my affection for you for as long as I breathe.”

Rook sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the man kneeling before her. She turned her hand slightly in his, lacing her fingers through his as she searched for the right words.

“How am I supposed to stay angry at you now?” she said finally, her voice soft but tinged with exasperation. “The cakes, the candlelight, and that—” she gestured toward him with her free hand—“what you just said… Maker’s breath, you’re impossible.”

Lucanis’s lips curved into a hesitant smile, hope flickering in his eyes.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “And… I forgive you,” she added, her voice steady now, but her cheeks flushed.

“But I swear,” Rook continued, her eyes narrowing slightly, “if you ever make me feel that way again, I’ll take a contract out on you. Better than that—” she leaned forward, her tone dropping for emphasis—“I’ll kill you myself.”

Lucanis tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he rose to his feet.

“I’d like to see you try,” he replied smoothly, settling back into his chair across from her, “Promise me there will be lots of struggling,” Lucanis added, his voice dropping into a playful drawl. “Rolling around, grabbing for each other’s daggers…” He leaned forward slightly, a wicked glint in his eyes. “And sweaty. It’ll be sweaty, right?”

Urrgghhhh. She hated it when he turned it back on her like that.

Rook crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure, but she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. She wasn’t nearly as good as he was at making death threats sound… sultry.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, grabbing her coffee and taking a long sip to avoid saying anything else that might give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d flustered her.

“Are you flirting with me, Dellamorte?” Rook asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you didn’t do that.”

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “First time for everything, de Riva,” he replied smoothly. “You could say I’m making up for lost time. Curious are we?”

“I’m not sure if I should say yes or no,” Rook admitted, a nervous smile playing at her lips.

Lucanis leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady, his voice soft but teasing. “Say yes. Take a risk. See what happens.”

He could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between protecting her heart and giving in to her curiosity.

“Yes,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.

Lucanis half-smiled, standing as he offered his hand. She took it, and together they walked to the balcony overlooking the canal. The soft light reflected off the water below, casting shimmering patterns onto the stone railing.

He leaned against the cool stone, his hand still firmly holding hers.

“So… I said yes, and now we’re looking at…” Rook began, her voice tinged with nervous humor.

“For the love of the Maker, Rook,” Lucanis interrupted, turning to face her fully. “Shut up and let me kiss you. Just stop… talking.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his mouth brushing against hers in a soft, deliberate kiss. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, and Rook melted into him, her heart racing.

He was a good kisser.

Cliché as it was, she slowed time around them with an enchantment, savoring the moment as the rest of the world blurred into nothing.

Lucanis smiled against her lips, not breaking the kiss, his voice low and warm. “I know what you’re doing, Rook,” he murmured, his lips still grazing hers.

But she didn’t care.

[halloweennymph]

Full Moon

werewolf x f! reader

summary: after a failed halloween party, you decide to go home, not even thinking that you would end up having a passionate encounter with a beast.

warnings: oral (f! receiving), loss of virginity, dub-con, knotting, breeding, mentions of kidnapping.

a/n: i haven’t written in months so it’s probably not my best work, but i hope that some of you enjoy it!! <3

You tried. You really tried going to that stupid halloween party that your friends had been begging you to attend with them, promising that it would be cool and fun. But it wasn’t like that, an hour later they just disappeared, probably just to fuck with their boyfriends in a random room or bathroom, leaving you by yourself surrounded by strangers in a house that already smelled like alcohol and puke.

That’s how you ended up walking alone in the middle of the night, wearing a ridiculous angel costume that barely covers your body, planning on getting back home as soon as possible and spend the night in cozy pajamas and watching horror movies.

The street is almost empty, just some kids trick or treating are still outside, but you don’t really pay attention to anything until you hear something strange, some footsteps creeping closer to you.

At first you can’t see anything, it’s too dark, but then you see him. A werewolf, hiding behind a tree, staring at you with big yellow eyes as if he is about to catch another prey to eat.

A very realistic costume, that’s what you think, maybe just a random dude trying to mess with you… right?

“Nice costume!” you smile to him from the distance, not wanting to be rude, and then continue to your way home. A couple more blocks and you’ll be there, ready to relax after that disgusting place and the so called party.

If it weren’t for the full moon, you’d be completely terrified to be on your own, but with the way it dimly illuminates your path it’s almost soothing.

Once you finally get home, you take off your shoes and go straight to your room to take off the rest of your cheap costume. But once you strip down to just your panties, you hear those strange noises again.

…maybe this time it’s some wild animal or kids messing around?

You turn around to look through your window and there he is, that werewolf staring at you once more, as if he hadn’t had enough with that first time. But instead of feeling pissed off, you feel fear, and a deep instinct to run and hide.

“Go away” it’s all you can say, and of course that he won’t follow you orders, he already decided that you will be his, one way or another.

Before you can even think or react, the werewolf breaks the window and comes inside your room, inspecting the place carefully and stepping on the broken glass without feeling a single thing. That’s it. You think it’s over and imagine the worst escenario possible, but when he comes closer to you he just stares down at your fragile and terrified frame.

“I won’t hurt you” he says. “I just think that you’d be the perfect mate for me, don’t you think, little one?”

Having him just a few inches inches from you, you can see his sharp teeth, his wet nose and shiny fur, and you can also perceive his strong smell, animalistic, and… intoxicating. That’s when you realize that it’s not just a dude in a costume, it’s a real werewolf.

“I- I don’t know” you reply with a trembling voice.

He takes a step closer and leans in, just enough to smell your hair, your neck, and your shoulders. So so sweet. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you that he smelled you from miles away, causing some kind of urge on him, so intense that he had to track down the pretty thing that smelled just like innocence.

“You’re a pure one” he growls, with his muzzle buried on your neck. “We don’t find things like you very often”.

You don’t really know what he’s implying by pure, maybe the fact that you’re still a virgin, but oh, all of the sudden your thoughts and fears vanish from your mind when he starts licking your neck.

Each drag of his tongue feels like nothing you’ve had before, and so you dare to touch him, a real one, like you always read about in those romance novels. You caress his fur, thick and soft, and then slightly pull on those pointy ears, completely amazed to be able to run your hands through such a dangerous beast.

Without wasting any time, he wraps his paws around your waist and guides you to the bed, pushing you softly into the softness of your silk sheets.

Now having you completely at his disposal, he takes just a few seconds to admire your fragile body. He always dreamed of having a little human all to himself, but he never thought he’d find someone so pretty, so perfect.

Caging you beneath him, his muzzle slowly travels down to your cleavage and your tits, licking your hard nipples for a bit before continuing his way down, dragging his wet nose from your ribs to your belly, and finally, your clothed pussy.

He effortlessly rips off your lace panties with his fangs and his tongue immediately finds its place between your folds, tasting your sweet arousal. And that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.

He devours your pretty pussy like he hasn’t eaten in months, moving his slimey tongue from your little hole to your clit, making you mewl in pleasure and buck your hips against his face in an attempt to receive more.

He wraps his strong arms around your thighs, slightly digging his claws into your skin, just to keep you from moving while he licks your clit as fast as he can.

“I’m gonna cum” you moan, mindlessly tugging at his dark fur, already feeling that familiar pit in your lower belly about to explode.

A few seconds more and you come undone, riding the waves of pleasure on his mouth. And even though you’re starting to get overstimulated, he keeps your trembling legs apart, drinking all the sweet juices that leak out of you.

Oh, you have no idea how much he’s going to enjoy tearing open that unused little pussy of yours.

In your mind, clouded by pleasure, you think that maybe he will go away now, but when he get his muzzle out of between your legs and starts manhandling your body onto a new position, you know that it’s not over. He wants more than that.

Putting on all fours, he pushes your head to the mattress and lifts your hips, so roughly that he unintentionally scratches your skin with his long claws.

“This might hurt you a little bit” the werewolf speaks, using the tip of his red cock to smear his precum all over your entrance. “But you’re gonna take it like a good girl, won’t you?”

You’re scared, with your heart racing like crazy, but deep down you crave it. You crave to be fucked hard, and right now you don’t even care that he’s a beast that could easily tear you in half.

“Y-yes” you mewl, arching your back even more. “I’ll be a good girl.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Slowly, he starts pushing it inside, letting out a soft hiss at the sensation of your little hole stretching around him, so warm and tight, accommodating to the big size of his cock.

It hurts and stings, but you don’t want him to stop, so you just cry out in pain while grabbing your sheets, trying to tough it out like the good girl that you promised to be.

Once he is buried deep inside your pussy, he gives you a few seconds to adjust, spitting some drool right there to make it more slippery before thrusting. He starts slowly, but it’s not long until his animalistic urges take over and it turns rough and desperate.

You swear that you can feel him all the way up to your guts, forcing your walls to memorize each one of his ridges and veins. And before you know it, the pain has faded, leaving only the pleasurable stretch.

“It’s too much” you moan when he hits your sweet spot, mixing quite well with the bounce of his heavy balls against your clit.

“Go ahead and cum on my cock, pretty girl” he growls, grabbing your ass to slam into you even harder, already knowing that you’re close to another orgasm by the way you clench around him.

Loud squelching noises and your pathetic cries fill the room, it’s filthy, and you kinda feel like a slut for losing your virginity in such a dirty way. But do you care? not a single bit, specially not when you’re getting fucked by a literal werewolf.

You can’t take it any longer so you let your second orgasm overtake your body, whimpering and trembling under him, your greedy hole now spasming and sucking him in, begging to be bred.

You feel so good that just a few more thrusts and he is finally reaching his peak, letting out a deep grunt as he releases all of his hot cum inside you, filling your womb with his fertile seed.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to hurt you under his weight, only for a few minutes while you both catch your breath and enjoy the weird sensation of his inflated knot binding you together.

You have no idea of what you just did, but a dumb smile appears on your face, feeling safe under the mass of muscles and fur.

What you really don’t know, is that once his cock goes soft, he’s gonna pull out and carry your limp body in his arms, taking you with him to the deepest part of the woods. Why would he leave you there on your own again if you’ll probably have his pups after a few months?

Now you’re his, forever.

[sigilslvt]

Lethal Protector • Choso Kamo

☣︎ Summary: Now in your senior year of college, you're ready to live it up and enjoy party season. Halloween parties have picked up and this year, you're in for a new kind of treat. One from someone you’d never expect.

Pairing: Stalker Choso Kamo x Fem Reader

Tags: fem! reader, stalker! choso, modern au (no curses), stalking, masturbation, sexual assault, drugging, dubcon, manipulation, smut, p in v, rough sex, creampie, stockholm syndrome

WC: 5.8k

Art: arokushisu_11 on Twitter!

A/N: I’m so deeply disturbed and I’m not apologizing about it at all.

Choso Kamo.

You could never figure him out. Your entire senior class worships him, but you? You felt nothing but annoyance even at the mention of his name at this point. Sure, it may be because every time you two have ever interacted, he’s offered you no more than a look and a few words as though your existence bothered him deeply, but still. Fuck that guy.

What you didn’t know was that he couldn’t help it when it came to you. Other people were easy to converse with, he didn’t care much about interactions with them, but with you? With you, everything mattered, every minute detail. The problem? He’s always too nervous to get anything of substance out. Always.

In the few classes you’ve had with him, he’s never been able to get out more than a sentence when speaking with you, including in projects when you were paired together. You made his throat close up and his hands get clammy. You would beam at him and he’d lose his breath, how could he possibly speak?

But when you weren’t interacting with him, he was bold. He’d watch you from the back of the classes you were in with him, never able to focus on lectures because what was more important to him was whatever you were wearing that day, what you might smell like, what you might be thinking, and more. Most times, he would end up palming himself under his desk trying to relieve the painful ache in his cock just from seeing you. Other times he’d cum untouched just hearing your voice so close to him.

You’re like a drug to him. An addiction of sorts. And people with addictions, they shouldn’t be considered creepy, right? No, no, people with addictions need help. So he helps himself. He’s made a routine to keep his addiction in check.

It took a while for him to be able to follow you home, you’re a cautious woman after all, but he did do it. He told himself he wanted to make sure you got home safely. College douchebags were in abundance and he knew how a lot of them wouldn’t take no for an answer, no, he couldn’t let anything happen to you. Vowed he would make sure you got home safely every day. It’s okay, right? It’s for your own good, so it has to be okay.

But, it didn’t stop there. No, he’d follow you home and watch you walk throughout your house, slinking around from window to window to get the perfect view of everything you do. He imagined himself there with you. Getting home, eating the bowl of cereal you love so much, doing assignments, showering, and then his favorite part— you spreading those pretty thighs to get yourself off. God he would watch you in a trance while you’d rub circles on your swollen clit, a hand clasped over your mouth no doubt to hide from your own shame of being so lewd. The first time it happened, as if on autopilot, he whipped his cock out and pumped it in time with the thrusts of your fingers into your weeping hole until he came with you. Every time after was intentional. It was bond-building.

He told himself that this was good for him. That this would help his addiction, not make it worse. Because if it was really a bad addiction, he’d have had you by now. And ohhh does he want to. He desperately wishes that instead of fucking into a mangled, overused pocket pussy between his pillows that it was your sweet, pretty little hole he buried humself in. He wishes that he could keep you in his basement, away from eyes that would no doubt defile you every chance they got, so you would never feel dirty under another person’s gaze. So you could never be hurt. So you would always be safe and close. Most of all, he wishes to make you love him. But, those things are maniacal thoughts that came as a product of his addiction, he knows they aren’t okay. So what he’s been doing has been a kindness, he tells himself. Both for you and for him.

He doesn’t even know when his addiction started. You’ve only been in college with him for the last four years and yet, he feels like he’s always been connected to you. He remembers the day you met so clearly, you were doe-eyed and excited to start this new chapter of your life, no doubt, and you’d been walking without watching where you were going. You were a dwarf compared to him, so of course when you collided into him, it was you knocked on your ass with your binder and books splayed around you after the fall.

You didn’t even give him the chance to help, you just apologized about ten times while you picked yourself and your belongings up, keeping your head down as you walked away. That was it for him. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself or the sound of your voice when you composed yourself, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that he needed you. And so he would have you.

Just… not actually you. Not yet, at least. But, someday. This is what he says while he props his pillows up in a routine fashion, his phone put up against his headboard with a picture of you on display as he slots his cock inside of the pocket pussy he’d bought that looked as similar to yours as he could find. The only difference is that after months and months of constant use (and admittedly, abuse), it’s entirely mangled and in no way comparable to your pure… sweet… puffy pussy. No, not even when he’d replace the pocket pussy with a brand new one could it compare. He tried everything: warming it up with warm water, making it wetter with more lube, he even tried listening to videos of you giving presentations, but it never felt real enough to him.

Nevertheless, he fucks into the silicone replica with reckless abandon, sweat beading on his forehead as his eyes drill holes into his phone just trying to burn the image of your face into his mind while he pictures you beneath him instead. God, it’s so wrong, you’re so pure and perfect and he knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help it. He’s fucking disgusted in himself for defiling you by doing this, but it’s better than the alternatives. Better than him doing something reckless. Better than him giving you up, no he could never. So when he ultimately finishes inside of the hopeless alternative for your pussy, he simply tucks away his shame and falls asleep with his phone still displaying your picture, sad that it doesn’t also offer your warmth.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Halloween. Possibly your favorite time of the year solely because of the crazy parties that allow you to be anonymous or slutty or whatever the fuck else you felt like without worry. This time? You’re dressed as a playboy bunny and who better to be Hugh Heffner than your annoying, ego inflated best friend, Gojo. 

“You don’t think people’ll assume we’re a couple, do you? Cause I reaaaaally need to have someone fucking themselves on my cock tonight and that won’t happen if that’s the case.” He speaks into your ear as you both approach the steps of the frat house and you roll your eyes at his idiocy.

“Satoru. You literally convinced me, Shoko, and Utahime to dress as your bunnies. I don’t think they’re gonna assume we’re all together.” You reason with him, chuckling.

“Wrong. I’m good looking enough to be in a polycule. They might just accept that reality.” He pouts, rethinking the costume choices.

Walking up the steps, you smack him upside his head and chuckle. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell anyone who asks that I’d never be caught dead dating you. If me hopefully hooking up with someone at the party doesn’t make it obvious enough.”

He looks at you, clearly offended, which makes you burst out in laughter as you enter the party, the familiar smell of alcohol, hookah smoke, and weed filling your nostrils. The music seems to punch away Satoru’s worries beat by beat because his brows unfurrow and a smile creeps on his face as he takes in everything around him. Your hand raises to ruffle his snowy strands as if to tell him “good boy” and he glares at you before leading you to get drinks.

It isn’t long before he’s slinking off to go find some poor girl to fuck and you’re left alone in the kitchen, waiting for Utahime and Shoko to show.

That’s when he spots you. You look better than everyone here to him, even when his sight is partially obscured by the black mesh of his ghostface mask’s eyes. He rakes his eyes over the fishnets clinging to your plush thighs leading under that tight latex bunny suit that makes your tits look so fucking good. The bell choker you’re wearing makes him gulp and then your face? God, your face makes him salivate. He’s thankful for the fact that his costume covers his already angry erection while he makes his way to the kitchen, getting a drink that he knows he has no intention of drinking just so he can be closer to you.

He comes to regret that, however, when you’re approached by the biggest fucking douchebag he’s ever met— Sukuna. He doesn’t understand why you don’t immediately turn away from him or why you’re engaging in conversation with him, he’s an asshole on the best of days. And when after a few drinks, you start kissing him, Choso’s left absolutely baffled. And pissed.

How could you let someone as sleazy and downright horrible as fucking Sukuna lay a hand on your precious waist? Slot his lips into yours? No, this isn’t right, this is the most disrespectful thing you could let happen to you. He watches as you pull away from the kiss to whisper something in Sukuna’s ear, his eyes so focused on trying to make out what you’re saying that he misses the pink-haired man’s hand slipping something into your cup.

He watches you finish your drink and Sukuna uncharacteristically not drinking at all before you excuse yourself, he assumes to go to the bathroom. He frowns seeing Sukuna follow you and gets close enough to hear the man say he’ll walk you home. Fuck. That. No, Choso would need to follow. He couldn’t let you go home and sleep with this fucking douchebag, no. No, no, no. He knew what was good for you and Sukuna was not it.

His feet carry him forward, staying at a reasonable distance away while he watches every move you two make. It’s because his eyes are so fixated on everything you do that he notices you getting… more drunk? Different than he’s seen you before when you were drunk, though, this is… sloppier. More sluggish. You’re tripping over yourself and falling into Sukuna’s arms, his shit eating grin plastered on his face like he just won the lottery.

Your head is pounding and you lean into Sukuna for support as he keeps you grounded, holding you close to him. Your brain tries to remember whether or not you ate today, silently cursing yourself out if you had forgotten to before drinking. “Just… justneedaminute.” Your words stitch together, coming out sloppily. Sukuna nods and holds you steady as he walks you to the alley beside you, muttering something about not wanting to be in people’s way, but you don’t remember seeing people around you a second ago.

Your back hits the cold brick wall a bit roughly and you gasp, your parted lips allowing for Sukuna to invade your mouth with his tongue, kissing you roughly enough to bruise you it felt. Your brows knit together and the world starts spinning while he steals your breath. Breaking the kiss, you try to speak up to tell him you don’t feel good, but you can’t find the words or your voice. He simply chuckles and when you look up at him, his face is contorted into an entirely different expression than you’d seen all night. This was… evil.

You try to will your legs to move, but you can’t. Everything’s fuzzy and all you can do is lean harder against the wall for support so you don’t fall. “So fuckin’ naive. Good for me, though.” You hear Sukuna whisper in your ear, his hand traveling between your shaking thighs before you black out.

Choso watches from the shadows as your body slumps and that tells him everything he needs to know. You weren’t drunk and choosing to have a freaky hookup, no, you were drugged. Sukuna’s fingers working on the buttons of his pants is double the confirmation and Choso wastes no time, bounding up to the man and connecting his fist to his face with a force that he’s sure had to have knocked out a tooth or two. In the same movement, he catches you, using the time while Sukuna’s stunned to gently place you on the ground.

“The fuck’s your problem, that’s my score!” He hears Sukuna scream like he’s earned you and that makes Choso see red. The next thing he knows, he’s got the man’s collar in his hand while he’s crouched over him, fist connecting with his bloody face again and again and again. He doesn’t even hear the crunches and cracks that come with each impact, doesn’t realize when Sukuna stops breathing, no, it isn’t until he hears your faint groans that he snaps out of it and realizes what he’s done.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” He hisses, but you groan again and he decides he has no time to falter, wiping his hands on Sukuna’s clothes to get whatever wet blood he could off of him before heading to you. He picks you up gently bridal style and holds you close to his chest as he walks from the alleyway, heading to your house.

It’s only ten minutes later that he makes it there and you’ve started to wake up, frowning in confusion when seeing the ghostface mask staring down at you, a voice coming from beneath it that you can’t make out. “I dun…” You croak out, trying to tell the person that you don’t understand them, that you can’t really hear them over the loudness in your own head. You want to ask where Sukuna is, but you can’t find the strength, instead looking around to see you’re outside of your house.

You feel the person’s hands moving and look to see they’ve gotten your keys from your purse, unlocking the door and bringing you in before locking it behind him. He makes his way to your room, only then placing you down on your bed before disappearing again. When he comes back, it’s with a glass of water and you realize how parched you actually are. He holds the cold glass to your lips and you drink thankfully, it helping to clear your mind just a little. Just enough for you to question a few things

“Wh-who are you? How… how’d you know where I-hic-live?” You ask, but the person behind the mask doesn’t respond, they just place the glass to your lips again for you to drink more. You use what strength you have to push yourself up clumsily, your bunny suit slipping below your breasts as you do so, exposing them entirely.

Choso’s eyes immediately fall to your perfect tits, his breath hitching at the fact that he gets to see them so fucking clearly, so close that he could touch them if he wanted to. He gulps audibly and you notice, able to make out the faintest bit of his eyes underneath the mask fixating on you.

Your body starts to feel hot and your chest rises and falls with your breathing quickening. You don’t know why the words even fall from your mouth, but they do. “You can touch me…” You say softly, blushing madly. What were you thinking? You can remember enough to know you were just assaulted by Sukuna, so why are you telling a stranger who somehow knows where you live to touch you? Maybe it’s because you know deep down that they saved you. That regardless of them knowing where you live without you telling them, they kept you safe.

Choso wastes no time, his resolve already at a breaking point when he places the glass of water on your nightstand, his hands immediately finding your breasts, kneading them roughly, earning a shaky moan from you. You hear him groan before he thumbs at your nipples, your eyelids lowering as the pleasure courses through you and you lean back, spreading your legs for him. But, then… he stops almost as quickly as he started, making you frown.

He knew it was wrong, touching you when he knew you were in this state, but he couldn’t help it. You were right in front of him and you wanted it— you asked for it. Literally. But, he couldn’t go through with it. Not like this. Not when he wanted so much more. Not when you didn’t know it was him. His hands find the top of your costume and he covers your breast before pulling the blankets over you, your slurred protests falling on deaf ears as he leaves. 

You hear the front door close and you’re left alone to slip out of consciousness again.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next day, you wake up with a raging headache, immediately reaching for the water on your nightstand and guzzling it like you’ll die without it. It’s then that you look at the time and see that it’s eight at night. You frown, piecing together the memories of the previous night. The party, kissing Sukuna, the alley, the strang— the stranger! You get up from your bed, running to the front of your house to see that your keys are hanging on the holder, everything still there. You run to the kitchen to get a knife before casing every inch of your space to make sure nobody’s in here with you. When you determine that there isn’t, you let out a sharp breath, relieved.

You check your phone, seeing messages from Gojo, Shoko, and Utahime all wondering where you went, but the one that catches your eye is an unknown number that texted you in the morning.

Unknown: I’m glad you’re safe, now. Please be more careful. I would hate for you to ever get hurt.

Your long nails tap against the screen as you text them back, needing answers.

You: Who are you? How’d you know where I live? How do you know my number?

They text back quickly, your phone pinging before you can even lock it.

Unknown: Not even a thank you, huh? Lol, so like you to be hyper fixated on the details.

You: Thank you! Seriously, thank you.

Unknown: You still wanna know who I am, don’t you?

You: Please.

Unknown: Meet me at the lookout in two hours. The one where everyone goes to hook up. That way we’re not alone and you’ll feel safe, I hope. I’ll be in a black volvo.

You don’t even respond, immediately running to shower. When you finish, you put on sweatpants and a long sleeved v-neck, not wanting to dress like you intended to do anything more than get answers about what happened last night and who the person is. Your stomach growls and while you wait on your uber, you eat something quick to satisfy your hunger.

Your foot taps nervously through the whole uber ride, your phone not being pinged with any more texts from the number since the last time. When you arrive, you look around nervously, the lookout being less populated than you’d like, but you’re already here… and you can see the black volvo. Its exterior and interior lights are off and it makes you nervous. Still, you will yourself forward, getting into the car in one quick movement before closing the door.

That’s when you see him. The familiar face fashioned with its signature tattoo across his cheeks and nose. Your eyes widen and you’re at a loss for words now knowing it’s Choso.

“I can explain.” Is what he says first before you can get anything out. You nod, needing to understand why the man who you thought hated your guts knew your information and saved you.

He rubs his hands over his face and sighs while your heartbeat picks up. “I… never intended for things to unfold like this. I just… I couldn’t stand by while he… y’know. I took care of him, by the way. After I left. I went back and I-I got rid of the body, so nobody will know what hap–”

“Got rid of the WHAT!? Choso, what are you talking about!?” You ask, hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means.

He immediately looks at you like he’s pleading for you to forgive him. “I had to! H-He touched you, he had the fucking nerve to touch you like that after drugging you, he didn’t deserve you before that, but after that? He needed to be taught a lesson. Needed to die for trying to ruin your purity. You understand, right? You understand that I did it to protect you?” He asks, reaching for your hands and clasping them in his, desperate.

You’re so in shock and admittedly scared that all you can do is nod, eyes wide as you consider your options. You needed more information. “A-And my house? My number?” You ask.

“I… You need to understand that I have it all under control. I j-just… the day we met, you were so kind, so pure. I became… protective over you. Entranced by you. I only ever wanted to make sure you were safe and I did that. I watched over you whenever I could, but then it became all I could think about and I-I found myself following you to your classes afraid some jerk would take advantage of you and your kindness. Switched some of my classes so I could be in yours… I just needed to be near you. Y-You were nice to me and I never knew how to respond, you just made me choke up.” The way he talks lets you know this is a kind of obsession you’re in no way prepared for, but you can’t tear yourself away and it isn’t because of his tightening desperate grip on your wrists.

“Then I realized you’re not just unsafe on campus, it’s everywhere. You’re so fucking beautiful that no matter where you go, people with bad intentions could make a move. So… so, I followed you home. That’s all I was gonna do, but you were just so calm, so collected, and I got curious. Before I knew it, I was doing it daily. I have to apologize now for watching you when you were,” he gulps, “were touching yourself, I know it was wrong. But at least I didn’t t-touch you without permission like that fucking dickhead. No, I always kept at a distance, I’d never defile you like that. Instead, I’d go home and fuck myself stupid with a pocket pussy just imagining I could make love to you. Because I respect you. You see that now, don’t you? That I love you. That I will always protect and respect you.” He rushes the words out so fast that it takes every bit of focus for you to catch the words coming from his mouth and it doesn’t help that his touch becomes more rough, though you think he doesn’t notice it.

“Y-Yes, Choso, I understand. I see, I really do see that you care so much for me. Thank you.” You say, just trying to ease whatever tension you feel building within the car, because you now realize you’re not dealing with someone innocent who happened to save you. He was a stalker. A crazy fucking stalker. Yeah, the blow is lessened by the fact that he’s insanely hot, but it’s still in no way something that washes away what he’s been doing. You could let him get away with watching you to make sure you were safe, but in your own home? Watching you play with yourself? No, you need to get out of here. You just have to figure out how.

“I knew you would! You’re such a good person, I knew that only another good person could understand my actions.” He lets out a shaky breath of relief.

Oh this guy is fucking beyond saving.

Your focus snaps back to him when he places a hand on your cheek and brings your face close to his. “Ch-Choso?” Your voice comes out choked.

“Can I kiss you? Please? I’ve wanted so badly to kiss you for so long… j-just once, love?” He begs and you’re ashamed of the way your stomach flips at the pet name. You realize he may just keep you here until you agree, so you nod nervously.

His other hand releases yours and moves to your face to keep you close while he smashes his lips against yours, letting out a pitiful whimper as he does so. You allow yourself to kiss him back, telling yourself it’s just so you get out of this safely so you can leave and report him, but the heat spreading from the apple of your cheeks betrays you. He breaks the kiss to bury himself in the crook of your neck, shuddering as he sniffs you. “So perfect. Always so fucking perfect, oh my God.” He breathes before he starts to leave sloppy open mouthed kisses on your neck, your entire body vibrating in response, which tells you that you need to stop now before it goes too far.

“Cho… you said… one kiss…” You choke out the words between breaths, not do nothing to try and pull away. He moves to look into your eyes face to face, smirking when he sees the state you’re in. Dark brown irises rake themselves down your body, committing it to memory as though he hasn’t seen you naked a hundred times by now.

“I know.” He simply says, his nose brushing against yours when he leans in again, testing you. You barely realize you’re leaning in until he pulls away with a chuckle. “Mmm… one kiss, right? Unless you want more? Please tell me you want more. I’ll give you everything. Everything you need, everything you want, I swear to you, love. Just tell me you want me, too. Need to hear it.” His voice is trembling, pleading.

You don’t even think before you speak and it’s clear in the batshit crazy response you give him. “I want you, Ch–” is all you manage to get out before his lips are on yours again, a long and needy groan coming from the back of his throat and flowing into your mouth. Your weak arms wrap over his shoulders as he leans forward, pressing you against the passenger door without breaking the kiss. Not until his cock starts to leak precum, that is, because he wasn’t going to waste time and allow you to change your mind.

His lips move down to your neck, just below your ear and his hands find the waistband of your sweatpants. “Lift.” He simply says and you do. Without question. Again, you lie to yourself and say this is all so you can get out of here alive, but the sound that comes from your weeping pussy when his fingers come into contact with it says otherwise. You gasp, your head falling back against the headrest while he wets his fingers with your slick, rubbing up and down between your folds, finger pads just teasing your clit. “So wet… even more than when you play with yourself. And all for me, too…” He breathes out in disbelief, almost to himself.

“Ch-Choso… please don’t tease!” You beg and he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“Need to warm you up, baby, I promise you’ll regret it if I don’t.” He responds and suddenly you feel your heartbeat on your clit. Beating like a fucking drum harder and harder until it’s all you can feel, your core clenching around nothing.

“Please. Jus’want you.” You whine, brows knit together and bottom lip being pulled between your teeth. The most beautiful fucking sight he’s ever seen. His eyes roll into the back of his head at the sight, groaning loudly as he grips your chin.

“Backseat. Get in the backseat, baby. Gonna give you what you want.” He promises. You do as told, slipping between the seats to get into the back of his car, leaving room for him to follow. You don’t miss him pulling his own sweatpants down as he does so, his cock springing free as he gets on his knees on the seat. Your eyes widen and you realize why he was trying to warm you up. He’s fucking hung. Not in a fun way, you think he’ll break you. You know he will. But you still don’t turn him away. “Bend over f’me.”

You turn so your ass faces him, your breasts and chest coming flush with the seat as you look back at him and you’re a fucking sight to behold. So needy, so fucking beautiful that he gets ahead of himself, aligning his tip with your entrance and pushing in with one deep thrust despite the resistance of your painfully tight pussy, your scream being swallowed by his lips when he bends over your back to kiss you, only making him dig deeper into your gummy walls with his deliciously curved cock. You’re stuffed so full of him that it hurts so good.

He ruts inside of you, his leaky tip massaging your sweet spot so roughly despite the slow pace that your entire body starts burning hot and you swear you feel him in your stomach. He pulls away to lean up, spreading your pounds of flesh so he can watch himself disappear inside of you with every thrust. “Jesusfuckingchrist…” He groans, eyes rolling back into his head again.

A cacophony of moans slip from your swollen, wet lips as he picks up the pace, moving one hand to your hip to keep you steady as his own hips become restless. Every thrust he delivers is mean, like he’s punishing you for not telling him you wanted him sooner. Your cheek rubs against the rough fabric of his seats as he pounds and pounds and pounds, wet plap plap plaps filling the space of the car entirely. “Ngh, fu–fuck!” You cry out, eyes closing and gripping the seat with one hand and the headrest with the other just to keep yourself from being fucked into the door while the entire car rocks with his movements.

Every thrust digs so deeply into you that you’re convinced he’s looking for something inside of you, just fucking rocketing against you again and again. His whines rival your own and you open your eyes to see him crying while his eyes are locked onto the way your cunt swallows him whole. “So fuh–agh! Fucking tight! Greedy pussy taking me like it’s built to. You were meant for me, wuh–shit! Weren’t you!?” He asks between moans, voice shaking. You get the feeling he wasn’t talking to you, though, and it’s confirmed when he spits on your pussy, biting his lower lip and answering his own question. “Yeahhh, you were. Yeah you fucking were, fuck!” He grits out between clenched teeth.

Tears start to drench your own cheeks too as you feel the pleasure building in your core, your vision getting dark around the edges from how good the thick stretch of his cock feels. To top it off, he leans forward again, snaking his hand between your legs and pressing the pads of his pointer and middle fingers against your clit and rubbing side to side quickly, almost at an inhuman pace. “Choso! Ch-Cho! Pl-Please!” You cry out like a broken record, unsure of what the fuck you’re even begging for at this point. To cum? For him to stop overstimulating you? For HIM to cum? Fuck if you know, all you can think about is pleasure right now.

He kisses the tears that stain your cheek as he churns your pussy out, his torso flush with your back as he pistons in and out of your fluttering hole, still playing your clit with masterful movements. “All fucking mine, now. N–ngh–never letting you out of my sight again! So perfect f’me!” He whimpers out, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second, letting you know he’s about to reach his limit. The hand that was holding the headrest moves to his head, your fingers lacing into his hair and pulling him into your neck, earning a satisfied moan from him.

“Gonna, hah… gonna cum’nside.” He moans out against your skin and you nod, unable to speak while he pumps you full of cock mercilessly. Just a few more thrusts and your twitching around his cock, vision going blank as you cum around him, pussy gripping him so tight that all he can do is still his hips and spurt ropes of hot cum so deep into you that you can almost taste it. You feel him shuddering with every twitch of his cock inside you that dumps more cum into your waiting womb. “F-fucking take it.” He grunts, earning a whine from you.

“Ohmyfuckinggodyessss!” You let out, voice nearly lost from the amount of screaming and moaning you’ve been doing. You feel his cock finally still after a few moments, his cum starting to seep out of your puffy folds and down to your clit before dripping onto his seats, but even still, he doesn’t move. You both catch your breath for a few more moments as your mind clears and you realize something while he pulls out, his heavy cock missing from your pussy making you whine, feeling oh so empty.

You may be just as addicted to him as he is to you, now.

“”M not done, my love… still have so much more love to give you...” He says, bending forward to lick a stripe up your pussy, tasting your combined cum with a wanton moan. “You ready?” He asks, sitting back up and flipping you around onto your back, your ass coming into contact with the cum that’d spilled onto his seats. You watch as he smacks he cock against your swollen pussy, completely cock drunk and desperate for him.

“M’ready.”

[shybluebirdninja]

The Great Outdoors

Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated.

Pairing             : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Genre              : Fluff

The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.

This was going to be interesting.

“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”

Oh, boy.

You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.

He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.

“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.

“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.

Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.

“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”

He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.

“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”

After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?

By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.

“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”

Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”

You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”

He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.

“Logan, that’s not how—”

Whoosh!

The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.

“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”

“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”

Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.

After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.

You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”

“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”

He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”

“Oh, this oughta be good.”

Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”

“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”

You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”

Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”

You shook your head, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”

You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”

Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”

You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”

As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.

“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.

“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”

“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.

Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”

You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.

“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.

“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”

“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.

“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”

Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”

You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”

Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”

He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.

“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious now.

Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”

The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.

“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.

“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”

You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

PR disaster p.2

Hey guyss, since you liked part 1 and I love Franco I decided to do part 2. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and if you want to read more of my stories here's my masterlist :)

Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection as she tugged nervously at the hem of her dress. Why on earth was she nervous? This was just a deal—a professional arrangement. She had agreed to go on this ridiculous date with Franco purely to keep him in check. There was no reason for her stomach to be doing flips or for her hands to be fidgeting like she was a teenager going on her first date.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, giving her reflection one last once-over.

Her dress was simple but elegant, a deep blue that she usually wore to events where she needed to look put together. Neutral. Not too flirty, not too casual. And yet, as she looked at herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—she had spent a little extra time getting ready.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness. "It’s just Franco," she whispered, trying to remind herself who this date was with. That thought should’ve made her relax, but instead, it only made her heart race faster.

Just then, the sound of a knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress once more before heading to answer.

When she opened the door, there stood Franco, leaning casually against the frame with his signature grin firmly in place. His dark curls were styled perfectly, and his shirt—though slightly unbuttoned at the collar—looked annoyingly well put together. He always managed to toe the line between effortless and way too charming.

Franco’s eyes flicked over her outfit, and for a moment, something softer passed across his expression. "Wow," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "Te ves… increíble, jefa." (You look … incredible, boss)

Y/N felt the warmth rush to her cheeks before she could stop it. “It’s just a dress,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “And stop calling me ‘jefa.’ We’re off duty.”

Franco’s grin returned in full force, and he leaned in slightly. "Oh, perdón. ¿Debería llamarte hermosa entonces?" (Oh, sorry. ¿Should I call you beautiful instead?)

She blinked, trying to decipher what he had just said before waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Franco chuckled softly, stepping aside and offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. "As you wish, hermosa." (Beautiful)

She ignored the Spanish this time and brushed past him, pretending not to notice how nice his cologne smelled as they headed out.

The restaurant Franco had chosen was a small, cosy spot in the heart of the city. It was intimate without being too romantic—just a perfect balance. Y/N had to give him credit; she had expected something flashy or over-the-top, but this was… nice.

Throughout dinner, Franco was, unsurprisingly, his usual self. He flirted relentlessly, slipping in compliments in both English and Spanish, leaving Y/N constantly on edge trying to figure out what he was saying. But as much as she tried to keep her usual grumpy exterior, she found herself laughing more than she’d care to admit.

“So,” Franco said, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you having fun yet, or are you still counting the minutes until this is over?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide the smile she couldn’t quite suppress. “It’s… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Y/N, you wound me. I was hoping for at least ‘moderately enjoyable.’”

She let out a small laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Fine. Maybe it’s a little fun.”

Franco grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “See? I told you I could be charming.”

“Charming isn’t the word I’d use,” she shot back, though there was no real bite behind her words.

They continued talking, their banter flowing effortlessly between them. Despite Y/N’s initial hesitation, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. Franco, as annoying as he could be, was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t causing PR disasters.

The evening went by faster than she expected, and by the time they left the restaurant, she couldn’t deny that Franco had managed to wear down her defenses. They walked side by side down the quiet street, the night air cool and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant.

“You know,” Franco began, his tone a little softer now, “I didn’t just ask you out to make a deal.”

Y/N glanced up at him, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His usual playful grin was gone, replaced by a sincerity she hadn’t seen before. "I asked you out because… I like you, Y/N. Even when you’re all grumpy and serious, you’re…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Eres increíble. You’re smart, tough, and you don’t let me get away with anything. I like that." (You are incredible)

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Franco took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. "No tienes idea de cuánto me gustas." (You have no idea how much I like you)

This time, Y/N didn’t need a translation. She understood perfectly, and for the first time, she didn’t push him away.

Franco’s hand reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and lingering. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

But Y/N didn’t want him to stop. Instead, she found herself leaning in, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes fluttered closed.

And then, Franco’s lips met hers.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was waiting to see if she’d pull away. But when she didn’t, Franco deepened it, his hand slipping to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her earlier grumpiness melting away as she let herself get lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Franco smiled down at her, his forehead resting against hers.

"So," he murmured, still slightly out of breath, "I think this date went pretty well, ¿no?"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

Franco grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "But you like me anyway."

And, much to her own surprise, Y/N realized he was right. She did.

[angelsforthenight]

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟbut not kiss — faye webster

ellie williams who’s terrible at handling her crushes… i mean she fucking hates it. denies it for so long too; the possibility of liking you? a close friend which she’d rather die than lose? that should be, i don’t know, illegal or something. and who knows if you like her back? which would mean she’d possibly ruin everything if she told you. ellie who feels guilty for letting her gaze settle on you for a little too long, thinking she’s being discreet by partially burying her face in her arm — pretending to be all tired from the studying you two have been doing for the past hour, resting her head on her arms, when she’d much rather be in your arms instead.

“you want a break?” you ask in a hushed murmur, typical library etiquette, having no idea what it’s doing to her right now. she could hang onto every word you’re saying, so velvety it could lull her to sleep right here and now. so goddamn perfect it pisses her off. because her resolve is breaking, and the hesitance is creeping back in as it has continuously. besides, you’ve caught her staring. how embarrassing.

ellie buries her face further into her arms, so her sight is engulfed by darkness, saying nothing. you smile.

“nothing study-worth on my face, y’know.” you grin, shamelessly teasing her. ellie whips her face up, blushing beet-red.

“i-i wasn’t…” she automatically begins, knowing it’s futile: that shit-eating grin on your face looks like it’s not leaving any time soon. and now ellie’s fumbling over her words like an idiot, eyes darting over to anywhere but your face. your stupid, pretty face. and then you laugh! goddd, your laugh: a melody that would make angels cry of envy. ellie could melt. it’s no use trying to deny it anymore, poor ellie’s got it bad for you. like a swooned over puppy.

“mm fuck you.” ellie grumbles, resuming hiding away in her arms again. she has no idea how adorable she’s acting right now, trying to act all nonchalant. she has no idea what you feel right now, heart fluttering, having barely been able to concentrate when studying with the girl you’ve been fawning over for years. mutual pining with two silly girls too stubborn to realise the feeling is the same on both ends. silly, silly, silly!

a/n: i got inspired by this super cute animatic aaagagaga hope u like :33