#knew literally nothing about one piece before watching this

[what-a-fella]

just finished the live action one piece and holy shit that was really fucking good

[muntitled]

Better Than Drugs

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader | Brief!Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games.

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, High sex, Dub/con, Choking, Exchange of Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Unedited (we die like soldiers)

A/n: literally no one will read this but I need him and I wrote this for me!

Being treated like a lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter in a death game sucked ass but seeing your ex boyfriend there sucked even more, somehow. From your vantage point perched on your bed tucked away from all the central conflict, you notice them talking about you again.

Call it past bully traum but you knew when people were talking about you and although you couldn't make out what they were saying, a part of you just knew...

Another vote had ended and Namgyu was still staring at you, his head bowed, chewing his fingernails. He was watching you, while you were forced to watch as democracy crumbled around you.

Your brain made you think Namgyu was perhaps berating you in front of his new friend. Bad-mouthing you to absolutely no end, perhaps saying what a lousy, uptight girlfriend you had been in the outside world. How you kept him from his habit. How you tried to force him into rehab countless times.

And so you shrink into yourself, squeezing yourself further into your bed, hugging your knees.

How were you supposed to know the conversation went nothing like how you thought it was going?

"We need to get her on our team," Thanos had said when the voting concluded and they were watching you pick at your roll of tin-foiled kimbap.

"She's already on our team," Namgyu muttered, more quiet than usual as he watched you through the corner of his eye. He didn't feel like eating. He felt like doing drugs. And fucking, maybe, but eating? It never occurred to him.

Without you to remind him to eat, and to actually take care of his bodily health outside of his substance abuse, he really was a mess.

"Oh yeah," Thanos muttered dumbly before turning back to his own food, "Kay, well, I need to sleep with her."

Namgyu didn't even look up from his food, still leaning against the metal beds as he murmured a quiet, "Nope." Popping his lip, extenuating the 'p'

Thanos himself was rallied into silence as Namgyu casually clicked his tongue before adding, "I called dibs on that bro," he steals another glance. You're searching your chest for a piece of cucumber that's fallen out of the kimbap

This unfortunately, zeroes his gaze in on your ample chest, miraculously squeezed into that tracksuit jacket. Now Namgyu was thinking about your tits while Thanos' head whips to the side, his brow lifted.

Namgyu couldn't take his eyes off you since the games began. Watching you during voting time had stirred up all kinds of lost emotions. The easy and almost thoughtless way you had pressed the blue button before tucking your hands in your pockets, never sparing anyone a second glance. He had to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpant. If it weren't for him you might have continued to go amongst the games as an anonymous spectre, with that cash prize as your only goal.

"I didn't know we were calling dibs!?" Thanos stomped his feet petulantly, "That's not fair, man. Not. Cool."

"That's the point of dibs," Namgyu said, pushing his hair behind his ears as he continued to stare you down. "Who knows how long we'll be here?" As he watched you, he tilted his head downwards, causing a thick shadow to fall over his eyes as he watched you. He leaned against the railings of the metal beds piled up to the ceiling, watching you tuck your hands deeper into the sleeves of your sweater. Really fucking cute.

"B-But Homies don't call dibs on girls!" Thanos whines.

"Yeah," Namgyu nods, "but, I'm gonna need more than magic pills and a homie to get me through the night," He made a ring with his index and thumb finger, pinching his one eye shut as he spied at you through it, "She can help,”

Thanos was quiet, eerily so. Good things never happened when Thanos was quiet,

"Let's go over to her right now then. Since she's stealing my homie-"

That immediately snapped Namgyu out of his lust-filled gaze, promoting his shoulders to straighten as he tried to stop Thanos from taking another step towards you.

"Senorita-" he said in a singsong voice and you rolled your eyes as you saw them approaching. Namgyu walked behind like the shadow he always tried to be, with his hands tucked in his pocket. Your bed is relatively low to the ground and your heart stammered when both their shadows fell over you.

"Don't have any change," your eyes whipped to your ex-boyfriend before narrowing, "Or drugs. Sorry." you mustered a painfully sarcastic smile as you attempted to turn in another direction, hoping they might take the hint.

Thanos' teeth stretched as Namgyu swallowed thickly, watching you in that distinctly predatory way of his as he propped his forearm against the railing of the bed. You hate how both of them make you feel and your eye scans in vain around the premises, hoping someone might save you from the duo.

"Lemme make this quick," Thanos said with his drug addicted hand gestures. "My bro wants you and whatever bro wants-" he taps Namgyu's chest behind you- "Bro gets."

Silence passed with you staring deep into Namgyu's dark, almost sinister black eyes. You admitted that you were still painfully attracted to him. Knowing that he knows your body. He's already seen what hid under your blue tracksuit, it was dizzyingly sobering.

He still seemed so devastatingly sleezy it bordered on attractive, like he didn't care about what anyone really thought of him. It still brought an uncomfortable amount of attraction that you didn't really know what to do with. "No thanks," you said, bending your head to take a bite of the kimbap.

"Cunt." you heard him mumble under his breath. That caused your head whip up to glare at him.

"I'm a cunt because I'd rather not fuck a drug addict?"

"No," Namgyu shrugged, "You're just a cunt."

Your nostrils flared as something diabolical ignited inside you. Up until this point, fear had been the only emotion you allowed yourself to feel. The fear of dying to keep you alive. But right now, you're being plagued with another emotion and it's setting you alight with interest.

Your dating preferences were never orthodox. You knew you could never truly be satisfied with any other timid nice guy, and that's what drew you to him. You hated admitting to it but Namgyu calling you a cunt did more than irritate you, it ignited you.

"I'm not here to make friends,” You marvel now, in the tense darkness, how confident you had been then.

“How about a boyfriend then?” Namgyu asked and Thanos whistled lowly as he mutters a ‘nice bro,’

“How about choking?” You shot back, “I tried the boyfriend thing and he stole all my savings to buy drugs.” Namgyu’s jaw ticked and you can see his fist fold and unfold. Thanos’ commentary continues. ‘Shit boyfriend-’ he says under his breath.

“Don't be a bitch so early in the morning…” Namgyu says finally before turning his head, somewhat distracted, “Or at least I think it's morning. Hyung do you think it's morning-”

Thanos raised his hands, “Morning is what we make it in here, bro.”

“Leave me alone of I'll fucking scream.” you cut through all their useless chatter, letting a tense silence settle between the three of you. Eventually, Thanos reluctantly pulls Namgyu away. Murmuring a quiet ‘just take a hint bro.'

Soon, you were left in your bed but not without one more backwards glance from Namgyu over his shoulder. He wasn't done with you and that thought sat heavily on your shoulders until the robotic voice from unseen speakers made the countdown to lights out.

The very last thing you remembered, before the overhead lights were snuffed out, was his black, almond eyes still watching you from his bed.

The blue 'O' velcroed to your breast burns a hole through your conscience as your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night, really needing to pee. The prize money acts as the only source of gold light illuminating the hall while everyone else remains soundly asleep.

Life in the games was so much more stomachable during the day, but when the lights went out, you were forced to sit with your thoughts. That piggy bank didn't have money inside it, it held bodies, and the ghosts practically filled this room.

Still, you can't help but whisper to yourself, “I really have to pee.” The only thing stopping you from going to the bathroom is the gaze you knew would somehow find you from three beds over. Your ex boyfriend watches you, even when the lights go out.

Paranoia be damned.

Cursing softly, you maneuvered yourself to the ground. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you moved through the row of beds.

If you were being followed you'd never know. Everything was too dark but a part of you sighed as you reached the small arched doorway completely unscathed.

Almost unscathed.

Your heart hammers in its cage when you feel his heavy arm settle over your shoulders. Your mouth falls open but Namgyu is already banging on the arched door with a closed fist. You flinch with every loud, metallic hit.

The little window opens to reveal a triangle-masked soldier. He stands there emotionless.

“My girlfriend's on her period- she's bleeding everywhere. We need the bathroom.”

There is silence from the Guard who is clearly unimpressed. Just before the little window is about to slide shut Namgyu kicks at the door, “Hey! I wanna fuck my girl- if you want, we could do it out here?!”

You try to wrench yourself out of his grip, toilet be damned but your heart absolutely sinks to find the pink soldier opening the metal door.

Namgyu only twirls, pumping his fist before pulling you in his arms, biting back a smile.

“Can't believe that worked,” Namgyu says, with a raised eyebrow and a happy little shrug as he drags you across the threshold. The trip to the women's bathroom is relatively short as you writhe and fight in his hands. There's virtually no reason for the pink guard to think any of this was consensual but they kept their stoicism on their face as you reached the girl's bathroom.

“We'll be quick,” Namgyu assures the guard with a tight sort of smile before pushing you into the bathroom, and closing the door after himself.

You trip on your way running into one of the stalls and he watches you, biting his nail.

“This is the girls bathroom, or are you too high to notice?” You hiss absolute venom as he bites his fingernail.

“Nah, I'm sober right now, which means I need something to take the load off.”

“Cool. Use your hand,” you sigh from within the stalls before dropping your pants to pee. It irked you that he was standing there, on the other side… waiting for you.

You make quick work of it all. Wiping, flushing, and making a beeline for the sinks. He lets you wash your hands but before you make it to the door his arms are wrapped around your waist.

“Uh Uh,” he tsks, “No ‘i miss you’ kiss, huh?” He drags you into his arms, kicking and screaming as he swipes your brains from across your panicked face.

“Only competent boyfriends get kisses,” Despite the fuss, the door doesn't open. Those guards have quite literally abandoned you in here to fend for yourself.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, “I miss you really bad, baby,” Namgyu's pushing your back against the sink, stained with that sickening, pastel colour as he lowers his nose into the crook of your neck. You writhe as he breathes you in deeply, before sighing. His erection pressed against your thigh.

“Someone else could walk in here,” you cry, feeling a dampness seep out of you, wetting your underwear. Your body was being traitorous because it was enjoying feeling anything other than fear. It yearned for it.

“Sto-” you attempt to catch your breath as he gropes at your breasts from over your tracksuit. “Stop touching me-” you say despite your legs getting weaker and weaker.

“You don't get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you stopped being my boyfriend.” He was so much taller than you when he stretched his hand across your cheeks, forcing your neck back to make more space for his lips. A moan nearly spills out of you.

His hands are trembling and his tongue swipes out to lick the length of your neck. To your shock and horror, you melt in his grasp.

“You don't mean that-” he whispers against your skin. “No one's gonna fuck you like I do-”

“No one's going to steal my money like you do either-”

His hand flies down to your throat, choking as he says through clenched teeth, “I told you I had a problem-” he squeezes and for the briefest moment, you see stars. “I needed help and you abandoned me, you bitch-”

“I didn't abandon you-” His lips are on yours, silencing you in one messy kiss that him forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“You gonna be good for me, Huh?’ He says, hoarsely, your eyes glare up at him.

“Leave me alone-”

“You know I love it when you try to fight back,” his mouth breathes against your hair, “You trying to get me riled up babe, huh?”

His fingers find the lining of your own sweatpants and your heart stammers as he turns to push your front against the sink. Your hand grips at the cheap plaster and you avoid your own traitorous reflection in the mirror, lest you find not only fear in your eyes, but lust

“You know how bad I've needed this- fuck,” his voice cracks when fumbles his cock out, grinding against your ass with his eyes closed in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open. Your finger curls around the sink as the first moan slips out of you. It had his eyes flying open to look down at you in amusement and awe.

“I knew you weren't a completely stuck-up bitch,” he says, pulling you up by the base of the throat, “I knew you still wanted me.”

“I don't,” you squeak out as he pulls down your pants.

“No- but your body does,” he swipes your underwear to the side.

Your body spasms as he roughly sinks his digits into you once before pulling out.

“You miss me real bad,” he brings your fingers up in front of your face and your heart drops to find the arousal webbing his index and middle.

He continues to swipe your arousal from from your ass to your puffy clit and the need wracks through your entire body, building as you arched your ass backwards against him.

His mouth is by your ear, breathing heavily as he lines his cock up at your entrance, already leaking precum, “I know I gave you hell when we were out there-”

“Hell doesn't begin to cover- FUCK-” he rams his cock into you. Positively brimming with need as his hips stutter against you.

“Y-ou stole my fucking savings for drugs-” you get the sentence out quickly before moaning into the air, as your boyfriend fucks out all the frustration he's been carrying, all the need and the withdrawal.

“And I ate you out as an apology-” He reaches his hand around to clamp down on the base of your throat. Your mouth falls open when he cranes our neck back, his eyes boring into yours. “Don't you miss it baby, don't miss having me inside of you?”

“Y-Your eyes are diluted-” you begin to say, utterly incredulous. “You're high right now!”

His hips thrusts in shallow, quick strokes. “And your pussy's wet, guess we're both fucked.”

Your pussy tightens around him like a long lost friend, it knocks you out how deeply you've craved him. Needing reprieve from all the fear. “You're squeezing around my cock, you fucking slut-” that nearly has you seeing stars. Your body spasms.

“That it…” he whispers, “Don't think I haven't forgotten the way you abandoned me out there… But in here,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, “You dont so much as fucking breathe without my permission.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as his cock hits that particular pillow of nerves inside you, nearly flipping you off the edge.

“Spit on my hand,” he says, an edge to his voice that let you know he was far too close. You forgot how messy things got when you had sex with him. How much of a mess he made of you.

You do it without thinking about it and his eyes widen as he presses that same hand to your clit.

“F-Fuck!” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he reaches around to rub you to your orgasm. His movements only fumble when his hips start stuttering.

“N-Need you to cum for me-” he breathes out. “I’m jittery- baby. I need it- shit-” you slip into your orgasm right in front of him, milking his cock for all its worth. “F-Fuck this is so much better than drugs,” he murmers, eyes rolled back as a drunken smile ghosts over his face. He's in complete and utter euphoria.

Two rough knocks on the door signal the need for your return but Namgyu's cock is still spilling ropes of his cum inside you and you're doing nothing but taking it.

“I hate you,” you breathe out, because it's true. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be here.

His breath is warm against your neck as he says, “I love you too.

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[solxamber]

Pick Us!

In which you have to choose a club and it looks like everyone wants a piece of you.

Part 2 (Choosing a club)

You were minding your own business, dodging Grim's increasingly creative ways to get you to buy premium tuna, when Crowley swept in with his usual dramatic flair.

“Ah, my dear pupil!” he exclaimed, arms wide like a bad community theater actor. “To better immerse yourself in school life, you must join a club. It’s mandatory!”

Before you could protest or ask any clarifying questions, he disappeared in a swirl of his cape, leaving you standing there with nothing but Grim’s unsympathetic shrug.

Naturally, this information traveled faster than you could process it, because the next thing you knew, Ace was practically dragging you by the arm across campus.

The Basketball Club

“Alright, listen,” Ace began, spinning a basketball on one finger and grinning like he just invented the sport. “You’re obviously joining the basketball club. It’s the best. I’m here, Floyd’s here, and even Jamil’s here, so really, it’s a no-brainer.”

“Is that supposed to sell it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah!” he said, tossing the ball toward you. It immediately bounced off your hands and hit the floor. Ace, undeterred, caught it mid-bounce and gave you a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. I’m, like, super good at this. Just ask him!”

From across the gym, some poor guy—bless his heart—tried to nod in support, but you caught the nervous look he shot Ace instead.

“Okay, sure,” you said, “but isn’t this just an excuse for you to show off?”

“Maybe,” Ace said with zero shame, dribbling the ball dramatically before attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the rim and into Floyd’s waiting hands.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd called, tossing the ball behind his head without looking (and still somehow making the shot). “Join the club. It’ll be fuuuuun.”

You hesitated, because with Floyd, “fun” could mean literally anything. “Define fun,” you said cautiously.

“Simple! You, me, and Ace crushing people in games!” Floyd grinned, leaning closer to you. “And if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll squish ‘em.”

Ace groaned. “Floyd, you can’t just threaten people into joining.”

“Why not?” Floyd asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Because it’s weird!”

“No, it’s effective,” Floyd countered, shooting you another toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re already here. I’ll even let you call the plays. Or, you know, not. Whatever.”

“...You’re just bored, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,” Floyd admitted, leaning lazily against the wall. “But hey, if you join, I won’t let Ace hog the ball. Win-win, right?”

And then there was Jamil, who had been sitting silently on the sidelines, observing the chaos with his usual exasperated expression.

“Are they done?” he asked, finally standing and walking over to you.

“I don’t think so,” you replied, watching as Floyd tried to steal the ball from Ace mid-dribble.

Jamil sighed. “Typical.” He glanced at you, his tone cool and measured. “Ignore them. They’re just trying to drag you into their antics.”

“Antics?” Floyd repeated, offended.

“Yeah, Jamil,” Ace added, narrowing his eyes. “What’re you implying?”

“I’m implying you’re both terrible at convincing people,” Jamil said smoothly. He turned back to you. “If you’re interested in joining the club, you’ll actually get something out of it. Physical exercise, teamwork, strategy. And if you stick around, I’ll make sure you’re not stuck with them during practice.”

“Hey!” Ace protested.

Floyd just laughed. “Jamil’s still salty about the last scrimmage.”

“Hardly,” Jamil said, arching an eyebrow. “I’m just pointing out that if you want to learn how to actually play, you’d be better off with me.”

You blinked. “Are you… offering to train me?”

He shrugged, but there was a faint smirk on his face. “If it means saving you from their nonsense, yes.”

All you can do is sigh and say "I'll think about it"

Track and Field Club

You barely made it out of the basketball club’s gym alive when Deuce grabbed your wrist like his life depended on it. His expression was that unique combination of earnest and panicked—classic Deuce.

“Wait, don’t decide yet!” he said, already dragging you down the corridor. “You haven’t even seen the track and field club! You might like it better!”

“Deuce,” you began, trying to keep up without tripping. “I haven’t even—”

“Just come on!”

Before you knew it, you were standing on the edge of the outdoor track, blinking in the sunlight as Deuce shoved you forward like he was presenting a prize to a panel of judges. Jack, in the middle of sprint drills, stopped mid-stride to look over at you. His tail flicked once, and he jogged over with that intimidating mix of focus and curiosity he always had.

“You’re trying to recruit them?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.

Deuce nodded, puffing out his chest like he was making the ultimate sales pitch. “Yeah! Track and field’s way better than basketball. No offense to those guys.”

“I take offense,” you muttered, but neither of them heard.

“Plus,” Deuce continued, “we’ve got variety. Running, jumping, throwing—you can do anything. It’s not just bouncing a ball around, you know?”

Jack nodded in agreement. “It’s good for discipline. Builds strength, endurance, and focus. If you want to improve yourself, this is the place to do it.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, glancing at the track. “And what if I… don’t exactly have focus?”

“That’s fine!” Deuce said, grinning brightly. “We’ll help you! Right, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Of course. We’ll start with basic drills.” He gave you a once-over, sizing you up. “How’s your stamina?”

“Define… stamina,” you said cautiously, because you had a feeling your answer wasn’t going to impress him.

Jack’s ears twitched, and he leaned slightly closer. “How far can you run without stopping?”

“Uh,” you began, nervously shifting your weight. “To the fridge?”

Jack blinked. “...You’re joking, right?”

Deuce coughed loudly, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that! Everyone starts somewhere, right? Besides, they’re here because they want to try something new.”

You stared at Deuce. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Exactly!” he continued, ignoring you entirely. “Think of how awesome it’d be to have us training you! We’ll get you in the best shape of your life. Right, Jack?”

Jack, who was still mildly horrified by your fridge comment, hesitated. “...Sure.”

Deuce, now fully in salesman mode, gestured to the track like it was some sort of holy land. “And you don’t have to worry about teamwork stuff! You can focus on your personal goals and—”

“Unless you’re in a relay,” Jack interjected.

“Right, but relays are cool!” Deuce added quickly. “Like… team spirit, you know?”

You glanced between the two of them, taking in Jack’s intensity and Deuce’s enthusiasm. They were both staring at you with a mix of hope and determination, and honestly, it was kind of endearing.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “If I join, do I get to skip the first practice?”

“No,” Jack said immediately.

Deuce grinned sheepishly. “But we’ll go easy on you!”

“Jack doesn’t look like he believes that.”

Jack tilted his head, his tail swishing once. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I’m not sure I’ll survive later,” you muttered.

Deuce ignored that, clapping his hands together. “Great! I knew you’d love it here! C’mon, let’s give them a quick demo, Jack!”

Before you could protest, the two of them took off around the track, moving at speeds that made you feel dizzy just watching. Deuce kept glancing back to grin at you, while Jack stayed focused, every stride perfect.

You stood there, bewildered and vaguely impressed, wondering if joining any club was a good idea at all. Still, as Deuce stumbled back toward you, sweaty but grinning like a puppy who just fetched a stick, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Think about it, okay?” he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “We’d love to have you here.”

Jack jogged up beside him, barely winded. “You’ll fit in if you put in the effort.”

“Yeah,” Deuce agreed, nodding earnestly. “So… what do you think?”

You hesitated, glancing at the track, then at them. “…I’ll get back to you.”

Deuce grinned like that was a victory, and Jack just nodded approvingly. As they walked back to their drills, you realized you had yet another club to consider—and these two weren’t going to make it any easier.

Board Game Club

Before you could make your escape—or even fully process the events of the day—your wrist was suddenly seized by Ortho, who zoomed in out of nowhere like a missile with a purpose.

“There you are!” Ortho exclaimed with unsettling cheer. His grip was surprisingly firm for someone who probably didn’t even need to touch you to move you. “Big Brother’s been waiting! Come on!”

“Wait—what? Ortho, where are we—”

“No time for questions!” And just like that, he lifted you into the air like you were a deranged package and he was some kind of express courier. You barely had time to flail before he rocketed off, delivering you with precision to the board game club's headquarters.

You landed with an unceremonious thud, right in front of Idia, who nearly fell out of his chair.

“Ortho!” Idia hissed, his flaming hair flaring. “You can’t just abduct people like that!”

“But you said you wanted them to join!” Ortho chirped. “Mission accomplished!”

Azul, seated calmly at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses and smirked. “Well, well. A delivery service—how efficient. Welcome to the board game club.”

You were still processing the fact that you’d been airmailed when Idia slouched lower in his seat, muttering, “Ugh, so embarrassing. Ortho, seriously…”

“Uh,” you began, brushing yourself off. “Hi?”

Azul gestured grandly to the table in front of him, where an array of meticulously organized board games was displayed like they were ancient treasures. “Here, we focus on strategy, intellect, and the fine art of outwitting your opponent. Unlike other clubs,” he said with a pointed glance at the door, “this one doesn’t require you to break a sweat.”

“That’s actually kind of appealing,” you admitted, still wary.

Idia perked up slightly, his hair flickering a little brighter. “See? I told you it’s cool. I mean, if you like, uh, not running around like some NPC.”

Ortho leaned over, nodding enthusiastically. “And Big Brother’s really good at this stuff! He’s undefeated in our club tournaments!”

“That’s because you’re the only other member who’s not a liability!” Idia blurted, before realizing what he’d just said. “Uh—I mean—you’d totally, like, be an asset. Probably.”

Azul cleared his throat, clearly annoyed at being excluded from the compliment. “Allow me to demonstrate. Why don’t we have a quick match? You against Idia.”

“What?” Idia sat up straight, his hair sparking nervously. “No way! That’s not fair—I can’t just—”

Azul gave him a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing, Idia.”

Idia’s face turned pink. “Fine,” he grumbled, setting up the board. “But don’t blame me if I crush them.”

You sat down reluctantly, realizing too late that this was probably a trap. Idia’s fingers moved at lightning speed as he set up his pieces, muttering calculations under his breath. Ortho leaned over your shoulder, giving you completely useless advice like, “Just believe in yourself!”

To your surprise, you managed to hold your own for the first few turns. Idia glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were reevaluating your existence.

“Huh,” he murmured. “Not bad. For a newbie.”

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, moving your piece cautiously.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said quickly, his face turning red again.

Azul chuckled from his spot at the table. “See? A game of wits and strategy. Isn’t this far superior to running laps or throwing balls into hoops?”

“Hey!” you said, pointing your game piece at him. “Don’t diss the other clubs. They’re passionate too!”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “Passion doesn’t win battles. Strategy does.”

The game dragged on, and by the end of it, you were completely out of your depth. Idia, on the other hand, looked like he’d just stepped out of an anime boss fight, his hair flaring dramatically as he made his final move.

“Checkmate,” he said, grinning slightly.

“Wrong game, Big Brother,” Ortho corrected.

“Whatever!” Idia snapped, but he didn’t look too upset. “It’s over, okay?”

Azul leaned forward, smirking again. “So, what do you think? Ready to join?”

You leaned back in your chair, your brain fried from trying to keep up. “I… I need to think about it.”

Ortho beamed. “That means they’re considering it! Success!”

Idia muttered something under his breath about “too much pressure” and “why is this so stressful,” but you caught a tiny flicker of a smile as he fiddled with one of the game pieces.

Azul, ever the businessman, handed you a brochure as you left. “Take your time. But remember—intellect always wins.”

You left the board game club feeling like you’d just survived a high-stakes negotiation. And as Ortho cheerfully waved goodbye, you couldn’t help but wonder if all the clubs were this intense.

Film Studies Club

You were rounding a corner, still recovering from your latest club recruitment ambush, when a perfectly manicured hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

Before you could even yelp, you found yourself being gracefully pulled into the Film Studies Clubroom by none other than Vil Schoenheit. His strides were purposeful, his posture impeccable, and his expression…well, let’s just say it was the definition of I’m doing you a favor, peasant.

“Vil?” you sputtered, barely managing to keep up. “What are you—”

“I need to vet you,” Vil said simply, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “The Film Studies Club could use some fresh blood, and you look… adequate.”

“Adequate?” you echoed, mildly offended but too intrigued to argue further.

He led you to the center of the room, gesturing for you to stand under a perfectly angled spotlight. “Don’t misunderstand,” Vil continued, crossing his arms and regarding you with a critical eye. “I’m merely evaluating your potential. Our club requires both talent and diligence—qualities that, if I’m being honest, are rare in this school.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Vil ignored you, pulling out a script and flipping through it like he was deciding your fate. “If you can’t pass the audition, you can still join as a backstage hand,” he said airily. “We’re short on those too.”

“Wow, what an inspiring pitch,” you muttered, but Vil’s sharp gaze silenced you immediately.

“Read this,” he instructed, handing you the script and gesturing for you to begin.

You hesitated, glancing at the lines. “You’re serious? Right now?”

“Do I look like someone who jokes about art?” Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

Point taken.

Clearing your throat, you started reading, trying to put some effort into it. Vil watched you intently, his expression inscrutable. He occasionally tilted his head, as if mentally dissecting every word you spoke, every movement you made.

When you finished, you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

Vil tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not hopeless,” he said finally, in a tone that made it sound like a compliment. “Rough around the edges, yes, but I’ve seen worse.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be smug. You’ll need work,” Vil continued, ignoring your tone. “But I suppose you have potential.”

“And if I didn’t?”

Vil gave a delicate shrug, his expression cool. “Then you’d still be useful behind the scenes. But consider this your opportunity to elevate yourself. Being part of my club means striving for excellence—no exceptions.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Is this really about me, or are you just desperate for members?”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement there. “Desperation has nothing to do with it. I’m simply ensuring that my club remains unparalleled. If you happen to benefit from my guidance, so be it.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I'll think about it.”

Vil’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Smart choice. Now, don’t make me regret it.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there wondering what exactly you’d just signed up for—and if Vil’s idea of “elevating yourself” involved a complete personality overhaul.

Science Club

You barely had time to process Vil's dramatic exit when a familiar voice whispered theatrically, “Ah, my muse! Fate conspires to bring us together!”

Before you could react, Rook Hunt appeared—swooped, really—out of nowhere and expertly whisked you away from the Film Studies Clubroom. It was less like being led and more like being caught mid-flight by an overly enthusiastic bird of prey.

“Rook?!” you yelped as he practically danced you down the hallway. “What is happening?”

“Mon ami,” he declared, his eyes glittering with fervor, “you must see the science club! A world of wonder awaits you!”

“Wait—science?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’re in the science club?”

“Ah, oui! Science is but another stage upon which the beauty of nature and humanity performs its eternal dance! The experiments! The cultivation of life! The creation of culinary masterpieces! All expressions of art, no?”

You weren’t sure if he was describing scientific principles or poetry, but before you could argue, Rook had dragged you into the science clubroom.

The room was a chaotic mix of activities. One corner housed a vibrant garden under grow lights, another had chemistry equipment bubbling away ominously, and a third corner smelled suspiciously like freshly baked bread. Trey Clover stood near a counter, pulling cookies out of an oven as if this were the most normal thing to happen in a science lab.

“Ah, there you are,” Trey greeted, smiling warmly. “Rook said he’d bring someone by. I’m guessing you’re deciding on a club?”

You glanced between Rook, who was already gesturing dramatically at a rack of test tubes, and Trey, who held up a tray of cookies like a peace offering. “I… guess I am?”

“Bien sûr!” Rook exclaimed, sweeping an arm toward the greenery in the corner. “Behold! We grow life itself here! Tomatoes, basil, flowers—anything your heart desires!”

Trey added, “We also bake and cook as part of our activities. It’s a great way to learn about chemistry and make something useful at the same time.”

“And explosions!” Rook chimed in enthusiastically. “Occasionally, there are explosions.”

Trey shot him a look. “Not… intentionally.”

Rook turned back to you, his expression radiant. “Think of the possibilities, mon ami! With science, you can cultivate beauty, create masterpieces, and perhaps even unlock secrets of the universe! And, of course, I am here to guide you—to nurture the artistic soul that dwells within!”

“Also,” Trey added, far more pragmatically, “we’re not picky about what activities you want to try. It’s a flexible club, so you could do a little bit of everything.”

You considered this as Trey handed you a cookie. It was warm and delicious, which admittedly swayed your opinion a little.

“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, “so I could garden, bake, and blow things up all in one club?”

“Exactly!” Trey said with a smile.

Rook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “And think, mon cher—if you hone your talents here, you could support Vil in creating the cinematic beauty he so envisions! Science and art, united in harmony!”

You blinked. “Wait, are you trying to recruit me for this club and help Vil at the same time?”

Rook grinned. “Nature does not limit itself to one purpose, mon ami, and neither do I.”

Trey sighed but didn’t deny it.

“Well, this is definitely… something,” you said, nibbling on the cookie. “I’ll think about it.”

“Ah, a maybe!” Rook clasped his hands together like you’d just promised him your soul. “A victory in itself!”

Before you could say anything else, Rook twirled you toward the door, clearly ready to drag you to your next destination—or possibly just keep talking about “the poetry of chlorophyll” until you gave in.

Pop Music Club

Just as you were beginning to suspect Rook was about to wax poetic about “the lyrical mysteries of yeast fermentation,” a sudden voice interrupted.

“Oh-ho, what’s this?”

Before you could even react, Lilia Vanrouge materialized out of thin air, practically glowing with chaotic energy. “Ah, my dear friend! You’re far too bright a star to waste away on science experiments! Come with me—pop stardom awaits!”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

And just like that, you were swept up in Lilia’s whirlwind. He dragged you down the hallway with a skip in his step and a mischievous laugh, leaving Rook and Trey in his dust.

“Lilia, I can walk, you know!” you said, stumbling to keep up.

“But where’s the drama in that?” Lilia replied, cackling as he pushed open the doors to the Pop Music Clubroom.

Inside, the room was a cacophony of sound and color. Disco lights spun, a half-finished banner reading ‘Next Big Thing!’ hung lopsidedly on the wall, and Kalim was gleefully banging away on a drum like it owed him money. Cater sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone and periodically snapping selfies with sparkly filters.

“Oh, hey!” Kalim greeted you, waving so enthusiastically he almost hit himself with the drum stick. “You’re here to join us, right? This club is the best! We have music, dancing, and it’s all just super fun!”

Cater glanced up from his phone, his grin wide and just a little too calculated. “You’d fit right in! Think of all the magicam-worthy moments we could create together. Plus, the followers you’d get? Off the charts.”

“Followers?” you echoed, glancing at Lilia.

“Ah, but of course!” Lilia said, flinging his arms wide as if presenting you to an adoring crowd. “The Pop Music Club isn’t just about music—it’s about presence! Charisma! The ability to captivate a room with a single note or a dazzling smile!”

“It’s also about having a good time!” Kalim added, spinning in a circle for no reason other than sheer joy.

Cater nodded, holding up his phone. “And don’t forget—every moment is a potential viral video. You, me, Lilia, and Kalim as the dream team? We’d own the algorithm.”

You hesitated. “Uh, I don’t even play an instrument.”

“Neither does he!” Lilia said brightly, pointing at some unfortunate bystander.

“Hey!” he protested. “I play the Kalimba!” He promptly tried to play a note, missed the rhythm entirely, and Lilia laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

“See?” Lilia said, unfazed. “Talent is optional here. All we need is your spirit!”

Cater stood, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “We also dabble in choreography, so if you’ve got two left feet, don’t worry—we’ll teach you how to make them look intentional.”

“Come on, join us!” Kalim said, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy. “We could totally use your energy!”

“What energy?” you asked, deadpan. “I’ve been dragged between clubs all day—I barely have any left.”

“Exactly!” Lilia said with a wink. “We’ll channel what’s left into a glorious crescendo of pop music excellence!”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or just surrender entirely to the chaos. Lilia’s grin was practically infectious, Kalim’s enthusiasm radiated like the sun, and Cater was already adjusting the angle of his phone to catch you in the best light.

“Well,” you muttered, “at least it sounds… lively.”

“Lively is an understatement,” Cater said, snapping a selfie with you and Lilia in the background. “Hashtag PopStarsInTheMaking! You’re gonna love it here.”

“Let me guess,” you said dryly. “You’re already planning to upload that, aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cater said with a wink.

Lilia clapped his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “So, what do you say? Ready to unleash your inner star?”

“I… will think about it,” you replied, edging toward the door.

“Think fast!” Kalim called after you. “The bass is calling your name!”

You bolted before anyone could shove an instrument into your hands.

Equestrian Club

As you hurried down the hallway, still reeling from the pop music chaos you'd just escaped, you nearly collided with a flash of red.

"Ah, there you are!"

You blinked up at none other than Riddle Rosehearts, who looked as though he'd been scouring the entire school for you. His eyes narrowed, and his voice carried a tone of stern authority mixed with subtle relief.

"I've been looking for you," Riddle said, crossing his arms. "Ace and Deuce mentioned that you’re considering which club to join. As housewarden, it’s my responsibility to ensure you make a proper choice."

You blinked, still processing. "Oh, uh… thanks?"

"Enough dilly-dallying," Riddle said briskly, taking your wrist with surprising firmness. "You're coming with me to the Equestrian Club."

"Wait, what—"

Before you could finish, Riddle had already begun marching you toward the stables. You were half-dragged, half-guided, catching snippets of his lecture along the way about the merits of horseback riding, discipline, and poise.

When you arrived, the warm scent of hay filled the air, and the sound of soft nickering greeted you. The stables were pristine, the horses sleek and well-groomed. Standing nearby were Silver and Sebek, both tending to the horses.

"Riddle, you found them" Silver greeted you with his usual calm demeanor. He gave you a faint smile as he gently brushed a dappled gray mare. "Perfect timing—we were just about to go for a ride."

Sebek, on the other hand, straightened like a soldier at attention, his voice booming. "THEY WILL JOIN US, OF COURSE! IT IS ONLY FITTING FOR AN INDIVIDUAL OF WORTH TO EMBRACE SUCH A NOBLE ART!"

"Sebek, indoor voice," Riddle said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I AM OUTDOORS!" Sebek retorted, though he did lower his volume slightly.

You glanced nervously at the horses. "Uh, I don’t know if I’m… horse material."

"Nonsense," Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Riding teaches discipline, focus, and responsibility. It’s the perfect club for fostering growth—and for avoiding unnecessary distractions like some less dignified clubs."

"Pop Music Club?" you guessed.

Riddle sniffed, his expression sour. "Among others."

Silver walked over, still holding the brush, and gave you a reassuring nod. "Don’t worry. The horses are gentle, and we can teach you everything. It’s a peaceful activity once you get used to it."

"Peaceful!" Sebek exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "It is a pursuit befitting the greatest warriors! EVEN LORD MALLEUS—"

"Sebek," Riddle interrupted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Focus on the matter at hand."

"Apologies!" Sebek barked, saluting.

Riddle turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. "The Equestrian Club isn’t just about riding horses. It’s about elegance, partnership, and understanding. You could benefit greatly from it."

"And the horses are great listeners," Silver added.

"Unlike some humans," Sebek muttered under his breath.

You bit back a laugh as Riddle gave Sebek another glare.

"What do you say?" Riddle asked, stepping aside to let you see one of the horses—a chestnut with a kind, inquisitive gaze. "This is Vorpal. Perhaps a ride would convince you?"

The horse whinnied softly, and for a moment, you considered it. There was something appealing about the tranquility of the stables, the camaraderie of the club members, and the undeniable charm of working with such majestic creatures.

But then you remembered the drum chaos, the science experiments, and Vil’s dramatic vetting process.

"Let me, uh… think about it?" you said, taking a step back.

Riddle sighed, though he looked more exasperated than disappointed. "Very well. But don’t wait too long—indecision is unbecoming."

"Yeah," you mumbled. "Got it."

As you made your escape, you could hear Sebek booming, "RIDING A HORSE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"

You weren’t sure about that, but you were certain that escaping club recruitment was starting to feel like an Olympic sport.

Magift Club

As you staggered away from the stables, thoroughly frazzled by Sebek’s enthusiastic yelling and Riddle’s intense lecture on discipline, you barely had time to catch your breath before—

“Yo, gotcha!”

A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you let out a very undignified yelp. You turned to find Ruggie grinning up at you like a mischievous hyena that had just found its next meal.

“Ruggie! What—?”

“No time for questions, boss,” he said, practically dragging you down the path. “Leona’s orders. He told me to bring ya to the Magift Club.”

“The Magift Club?” you repeated, already sensing disaster.

Ruggie nodded, smirking. “Yup. Let’s go, let’s go!”

“But—wait—I don’t even have magic!” you protested as he hauled you toward the field.

“Details, details,” Ruggie waved off, his grip on your arm firm.

Soon enough, you were dumped unceremoniously on the sidelines of the Magift field. Leona was lounging on the grass under the shade of a tree, looking entirely too comfortable for someone allegedly trying to recruit you. Epel was nearby, aggressively practicing his throws while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “I’ll show ‘em.”

Leona cracked one eye open lazily as Ruggie dropped you off. “’Bout time,” he drawled.

“Leona,” you said flatly, “why would you want me in the Magift Club? I don't even have magic.”

He yawned, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah, I know that. You’re still better than the other herbivores running around. You can be the manager.”

“Manager?”

“Yup,” Ruggie chimed in, plopping down next to Leona. “You’d handle all the boring stuff—paperwork, schedules, snacks, makin’ sure Epel doesn’t throw a fit when he gets tackled.”

“I don’t throw fits!” Epel yelled, narrowly missing a hoop with his throw.

Leona smirked. “Sure you don’t.”

You crossed your arms, unconvinced. “Why me, though? You’re telling me I’m the best candidate for this?”

Leona sat up slightly, his sharp eyes locking on yours. “I’m sayin’ you’re the least annoying option. I don’t need some herbivore manager who’s gonna cry every time I take a nap instead of practicing. You’re not useless, so quit whining.”

Ruggie leaned in conspiratorially. “Basically, you’re the only one Leona doesn’t feel like chasing off the field after two days.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a ringing endorsement.”

Leona shrugged. “Take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me.”

At that moment, Epel ran up, panting slightly from his practice. “C’mon, you should join us!” he urged. “You don’t need magic to be part of the team. And if you ever wanna learn some tricks, I can teach ya!”

Leona gave him a lazy side-eye. “Don’t scare them off.”

“I’m not scarin’ ‘em! I’m convincin’ ‘em!” Epel shot back, glaring at Leona before turning back to you. “Seriously, we could use someone like you. The club’s fun, I promise!”

Ruggie snickered. “Fun’s a stretch. It’s more like… survival of the fittest with a ball involved.”

“And napping,” Leona added with a smirk.

Epel crossed his arms. “Well, maybe if someone practiced instead of nappin’, we’d win more games!”

Leona waved him off with a scoff.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know, guys. This sounds like a lot of chaos.”

“Chaos is half the fun,” Ruggie said with a grin. “C’mon, boss, think of all the free food we get during games. And you’d get to boss Leona around as the manager. Ain’t that worth it?”

Leona snorted. “Good luck with that.”

You glanced at the trio—Epel brimming with determination, Ruggie radiating mischief, and Leona looking like he didn’t care but also somehow cared just enough to try. It was… weirdly tempting, in its own way.

“I’ll… think about it,” you said finally.

“Fair enough,” Leona said, already reclining again. “Don’t take too long, though. We’ve got a game next week, and I’m not filling out paperwork.”

Ruggie winked. “Don’t worry, you’ll come around. Everyone does.”

As you left the field, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just been almost recruited into something much more taxing than a simple club.

Mountain Lovers Club

Before you could escape the Magift field and all its potential paperwork, you took a sharp turn—only to smack right into what felt like a wall of polite menace. A soft, knowing chuckle sounded above you.

“Oh dear, do be careful,” came Jade Leech’s unmistakably smooth voice.

You took a step back, already dreading the conversation. “Jade,” you said warily, “what are you doing here?”

His sharp smile grew ever so slightly. “Waiting for you, of course. Word travels fast, and I’ve heard you’re in the market for a club.”

“Oh no,” you muttered. “You’re not here to—”

Before you could finish, he was already guiding you away, his hand light on your arm but unyielding, like a vice hidden under a silk glove.

“Come now,” he said, his tone as polite as ever, “I simply must show you the Mountain Lovers Club.”

“The what now?” you asked, bewildered.

“The Mountain Lovers Club,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“And… who else is in this club?”

“Why, just me.”

You stopped in your tracks. “It’s just you?”

“Yes.” Jade smiled serenely, as if this were not a glaring red flag. “I am the founder, leader, and sole member. But with your arrival, that could very well change.”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d misheard. “Wait, so you’ve been running a one-person club this whole time?”

“Indeed.” His expression didn’t falter in the slightest. “The Mountain Lovers Club is dedicated to the appreciation of all things mountainous. Hiking through beautiful terrain, foraging for wild plants, observing unique ecosystems, and—on occasion—befriending the local fauna.”

“Befriending?”

“Examining, petting, observing closely…” His eyes gleamed. “Perhaps all three.”

You shook your head, trying to process. “So… why me?”

Jade clasped his hands together, the picture of poised enthusiasm. “You strike me as someone who appreciates unique experiences. The Mountain Lovers Club offers a chance to explore the great outdoors, expand your horizons, and develop a deeper appreciation for nature’s wonders.”

“And by ‘great outdoors,’ you mean mountains?”

“Precisely.”

“And it’s just you?”

“For now,” he said, his tone warm but his gaze uncomfortably intense. “But every great journey begins with a single step. Yours could be joining this club.”

You gave a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t think hiking through mountains is really my thing.”

“Ah, but how do you know unless you try?” Jade’s smile widened. “Besides, I’ll be there to guide you every step of the way. No need to worry about getting lost… or encountering anything unexpected.”

The way he said “unexpected” made you want to run for the hills (ironic, given the circumstances).

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I insist,” he cut in smoothly, his tone polite but with a note of finality. “At least allow me to show you the club’s activities. Perhaps a short hike this weekend? I’ve already prepared a route.”

You stared at him. “You’ve already…?”

“Of course.” His gaze was calm, calculating. “Preparation is key. I’ve even packed a lunch.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Jade, I—”

He tilted his head, his smile remaining perfectly composed. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse without at least giving it a chance? I’ve put so much thought into this.”

“Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice?” you muttered.

Jade’s smile was razor-sharp and utterly unrepentant. “Because you don’t.”

You sighed in defeat. “Fine. One hike.”

“Excellent,” he said, his tone soft and victorious. “I’ll see you this Saturday at dawn.”

“Dawn?!”

“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “The mountains are at their most beautiful in the early morning light. You’ll love it.”

As he sauntered away, leaving you to process your fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just agreed to something far more treacherous than a simple hike.

Gargoyle Research Society

The moment you finally reached Ramshackle Dorm, exhausted from the whirlwind of club-hopping and increasingly bizarre sales pitches, you let out a long sigh of relief. The day had been nothing short of chaotic, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your creaky old bed and forget the words “club activities” ever existed.

But just as your hand touched the doorknob, a familiar voice, deep and regal, called out from the shadows.

“Child of man.”

You jumped slightly, spinning around to see none other than Malleus Draconia emerging from beneath the pale light of the moon, his presence as imposing and enigmatic as always. He stood by one of Ramshackle’s crumbling stone walls, his expression calm but his eyes bright with an unreadable intensity.

“Oh, Malleus,” you said, your voice tinged with weariness but also a touch of warmth. “Didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I was merely admiring the architecture of your dorm. It has a certain… wistful charm.”

You smiled faintly. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Then, with the sort of graceful confidence only Malleus could manage, he stepped closer, his presence looming but never threatening. “I have heard,” he began, his tone soft and deliberate, “that you have been seeking a club to join.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “How did you—”

“The winds carry whispers,” he said cryptically.

“Right,” you muttered, deciding not to question it.

Malleus folded his hands neatly in front of him, looking every bit the picture of regal sincerity. “If you have not yet made your decision… I would like to invite you to join my club.”

Your brain, still reeling from Jade’s mountain escapades and Leona’s managerial demands, stalled for a moment. “Your… club?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice brimming with quiet pride. “The Gargoyle Research Society.”

“The… what now?”

“The Gargoyle Research Society,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I am both its founder and sole member.”

Of course, he was.

Malleus seemed oblivious to your stunned silence as he continued, his expression softening into something almost earnest. “The society is dedicated to the appreciation and study of gargoyles. We explore the campus, observing their intricate designs and marveling at their history. There is so much beauty in their silent watch over us.”

You blinked. “So… you just walk around and look at gargoyles?”

“Precisely,” he said, his tone unironically enthusiastic.

“And… that’s it?”

Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed. It is a noble pursuit, one that nurtures both the mind and the spirit.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. Of all the clubs you’d encountered today, this might just take the crown for most niche.

Malleus, however, seemed utterly earnest. His eyes bore into yours, his expression sincere and unguarded. “I understand if this does not align with your current interests,” he said, his voice softening. “But should you ever feel the call of the gargoyles… know that you are always welcome.”

There was something so genuine in his tone, so quietly hopeful, that you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about brushing him off. You sighed, offering him a tired but sincere smile. “You know what? I’ll definitely consider it.”

Malleus’s eyes lit up, his calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of pure joy. “Truly?”

“Truly,” you said, nodding.

“Then I shall look forward to the day you join me,” he said, his voice as soft as a promise.

With that, he gave you a small, graceful bow before disappearing back into the night, leaving you to wonder how you’d managed to end the day not only agreeing to a potential club but also feeling oddly flattered by the idea of studying gargoyles.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What a day…”

Masterlist

Part 2: Choosing a club

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is in film studies sorry :(

[tinyluvs]

imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!

catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late

you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way

"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"

spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap

"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back

"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes

you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,

spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly

"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"

your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food

"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"

truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house

the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee

he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk

"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.

"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod

a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face

you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"

penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process

giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"

usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says

people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy

"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms

derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him

"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever

your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room

after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk

"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.

when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting

"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"

he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you

"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt

your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"

"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"

he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder

"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

MILLION REASONS

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe cameron’s fear of love/commitment pushes y/n away—until he realises losing her is far worse. desperate, he finally confesses his feelings and gives her a reason to stay.

based on this ask !! this was so cute but so sad and angsty and i love it :’) thank you for requesting anon and i hope it’s what you asked for <3

(check out my other drew starkey & rafe cameron works here !!)

WARNINGS: angst w/ a fluffy ending, cursing, arguing, rafe & reader crying, rafe literally begging on his knees, angsty love confessions, fears of commitment/love, rafe’s insecurities :((, sad!rafe, mentions of ward (bitch ass). (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

THIRD PERSON +

The soft hum of the cicadas filled the thick summer air as Y/N leaned against Rafe’s porch railing, watching the way the sun melted into the ocean. The evening was warm, carrying the scent of salt and bonfires, but an undeniable chill sat in her chest. She swirled the condensation on her glass of whiskey with her fingertip, gaze drifting toward the open door behind her.

Rafe was inside, slouched on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, but she knew his mind was elsewhere; like it always was.

It had been like this for weeks now. No labels. No real conversations about the future. Just a limbo of stolen moments, soft touches, and nights tangled up together, pretending like nothing outside their little world existed. But that wasn’t enough, not anymore.

Y/N took a deep breath and turned back toward him, stepping inside. “Hey,” she said softly, standing by the couch.

Rafe glanced up, his blue eyes flickering with something unreadable before he set his phone down. “Hey.”

She hesitated for a second, then sat beside him, close enough that their knees brushed. “I got a call today,” she started, her voice carefully neutral. “About a job.”

Rafe nodded, waiting for her to continue, but there was something stiff in his posture, something defensive.

“It’s the one I told you about. The uh, the one in Florida,” she continued, watching him closely. “They offered it to me.”

There it was. The slight shift in his expression. It was subtle—just a flicker of something in his eyes, the faintest tightening of his jaw—but she caught it.

“That’s… great,” he said after a moment, voice measured. “You worked your ass off for that.”

A part of her deflated at the way he said it. Like it was any other piece of news. Like it didn’t affect him at all. She fought the urge to look away, to retreat. Instead, she pushed forward, just a little.

“Yeah,” she murmured, fingers tracing the hem of her shorts. “It’s just… if I take it, I’d have to move.” She glanced up at him, searching for something—anything—in his expression. “I don’t know if I want to leave the Outer Banks. Not if I have a reason to stay.”

Rafe’s stomach twisted violently. His grip on his thigh tightened as his breathing shallowed. This was it—the moment he should tell her that he was her reason. That the thought of her leaving made his chest ache in a way he didn’t understand. That he had never let anyone in before, but he wanted to try for her.

But instead, panic took hold.

“Then you should take it,” he said too quickly, too flatly.

Y/N stilled. Her heart dropped to her stomach, fingers curling into her palm as she forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Right,” she said quietly, nodding. “Yeah. I guess I should.”

Rafe saw it—the way her expression flickered with something broken before she schooled it into indifference. He wanted to reach for her, to take it back, but the words caught in his throat like razor blades.

She stood abruptly, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans. “I should go.”

His pulse hammered. Say something. Tell her to stay. Tell her she’s the only thing that makes you feel sane.

But his lips stayed sealed.

Y/N lingered for just a second, almost like she was waiting for him to stop her. When he didn’t, she nodded to herself, jaw clenching.

“See you around, Rafe,” she murmured before turning on her heel.

He didn’t move. He just sat there, listening to the sound of the front door opening and closing behind her.

—

The second Y/N slid into her car, the first tear fell. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

She had been stupid to hope.

She wiped at her cheeks angrily, but the tears kept coming. She had given him the chance—the opportunity to prove he cared, to show her that this thing between them meant something to him.

And he let her go.

The sob broke free before she could swallow it down, her forehead dropping against the steering wheel as her whole body shook. She had been so sure there was something real there, but maybe it had all been in her head. Maybe Rafe Cameron would never let anyone truly see him.

And maybe, she thought bitterly, she had just been another passing moment in his life.

With a shaky breath, she turned the key in the ignition.

She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew one thing for sure.

She wasn’t staying.

—

The days that followed Y/N’s departure from his house were nothing short of agonizing for Rafe. Every second that passed was filled with an unbearable weight pressing against his chest, suffocating him with regret.

He couldn’t eat. Could barely sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her walking away, saw the way her face crumbled right before she masked it with indifference.

It killed him.

He had been a coward.

Instead of telling her what she meant to him, he had let fear make the decision for him. He had let her leave, had given her permission to move on, all because he was terrified of what it meant to let her in—to truly let her see him.

The thought of her leaving the Outer Banks, of being in a different state, living a life where he wasn’t by her side, was unbearable.

And yet, he had told her to go.

Rafe’s hands shook as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the floor. He could feel the panic creeping up again, clawing at his throat. The same panic he had felt when she told him about the job offer, when he realised he could lose her.

Only now, it wasn’t just a fear. It was a reality.

She was leaving.

And it was all his fault.

—

Y/N wiped at her cheek in frustration as she stacked another empty box against the wall of her bedroom.

Packing up her life in the Outer Banks wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

She had spent the last few days trying to distract herself—throwing herself into preparations, making lists, telling herself that this was an exciting new chapter.

But no matter what she did, her thoughts always drifted back to him.

To Rafe.

To the way he had just let her walk away.

To the way he hadn’t fought for her.

To the way she had given him the chance to stop her, and he hadn’t taken it.

He’d given her a million reasons to walk away, but all she needed was just one good one to stay—him.

A shaky breath left her lips as she sat on the floor, knees tucked to her chest as her eyes scanned the boxes scattered around her living room. She was so tired of crying over him, but her heart had other plans.

A loud knock at the door startled her.

Her brows furrowed as she stood, wiping at her face before making her way toward the front entrance. It was late. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

When she opened the door, the breath in her lungs vanished.

Rafe.

Standing in the pouring rain, his hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his clothes drenched, his chest heaving.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was his expression.

He looked… broken.

His blue eyes, usually sharp and filled with some sort of cocky confidence, were desperate. Red-rimmed and filled with emotions she had never seen so plainly on him before.

“Don’t go,” Rafe rasped. His voice was raw, like he had been screaming, like he had been drowning.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening against the doorknob.

“What?” she whispered.

“Don’t go,” he repeated, stepping forward, eyes pleading. “Please.”

Confusion and frustration twisted inside her. “Rafe, you told me to take the job.”

“I know,” he choked out. His jaw clenched, his hands trembling at his sides. “I know, and it was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to change your mind now that it’s too late.”

“It’s not too late,” Rafe said quickly, stepping closer. “Not if you stay.”

Y/N stared at him, anger bubbling beneath her skin. “Why, Rafe?” she challenged. “Why should I stay?”

He exhaled sharply, his fingers running through his wet hair. He was shaking, the rain dripping from his clothes, but he didn’t care.

“Because,” his voice cracked, “I love you.”

Y/N’s heart stopped.

He sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly as more words spilled from his lips.

“I love you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that scares the absolute shit out of me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Rafe let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Do you know how fucked up I am?” he asked, eyes glistening. “I don’t know how to love someone. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. My father never showed me how. After my mom died, everything just—” He exhaled sharply, clenching his jaw. “I’ve spent my whole life thinking that letting someone in was just setting myself up for disappointment.”

He took another step toward her, voice thick with emotion.

“But then you came along,” he whispered, his eyes softening. “And for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like I had to hide. For the first time, I had something good—someone good.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away.

“And I was too much of a coward to tell you.”

Y/N’s own vision blurred as she stared at him, her whole body trembling.

Rafe sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to,” he said desperately, his voice cracking. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just please don’t leave me.”

And then he did it.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt like a man grasping onto the only thing keeping him from drowning.

“Please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. You’re the only thing in my life that makes sense. You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real.”

Y/N let out a quiet sob, her hands coming up to cup his face.

“You are not your father, Rafe,” she whispered through her own tears. “You are capable of love. It doesn’t have to be scary. It can be—beautiful.”

Rafe sucked in a sharp breath, his hands tightening around her like she might disappear at any second.

Y/N swallowed, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “I love you too.”

A quiet, broken sob left his lips as he pressed his forehead against her stomach, gripping onto her like she was his lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “I was so fucking scared.”

Y/N cradled him, running her fingers through his soaked hair. “I know,” she murmured. “But I’m here. I’m right here.”

And for the first time in his life, Rafe Cameron let himself believe that he was worthy of love.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a cute one :’) i’m a sucker for angst with happy endings !! also soft!rafe is my absolute favourite, like him LITERALLY begging on his knees for a girl is so attractive😫

anyways i’m editing all the fics i’ve roughly written from requests that are like two weeks old, hence why i’m pumping out so many fics atm !! one request was like a month old and i felt HORRIBLE but i’m getting them all out now and i appreciate everyone’s patience <3

[lavenderspence]

golden pleasure | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader       Word Count: 2.6K

Content warning: 18+, MDNI! smut, vaginal fingering, soft dom!aaron, a lot of praise, they are risking it in his office, lowkey ring kink

Summary: after hours of daydreaming about his fingers, a specific finger in particular, aaron shows you exactly how in tune he is with your body

A/N: this is brought to you from the deep end of my drafts *coughs* from september, and for inquiries, please get in touch with my alter ego, her name is julia, she’s the one who made this happen. she’s crazy, she’s kinky as fuck, and not surprisingly, girlie has a ring kink *pretends to be shocked*. anyway, this is quite literally the first smutty piece I've written in a while, so don’t break my heart, okay? other than that, julia also has a praise kink so she’d love to hear what you have to say about this. 

aaron hotchner masterlist main masterlist

It had been a long day of being in his presence, watching him, unable to touch him.

Hours of following his every move with your eyes. Minutes of watching his hands and fingers flex, wishing you were at their mercy.

A full day of building a fantasy inside your mind, desperate to have it turn into a reality. Eight hours of eyeing his fingers, watching as the gold on one of them caught the light, gleaming, screaming of his marital status. 

Wishing for the feel of the band on your body, the slight imprint it left on your skin whenever he squeezed your thigh too tight. You wished for the cold feeling of the metal on your throat, as his hand enclosed it like a necklace. 

Most of all, you fantasized about the feeling of that ring sliding against the sides of your tight pussy. You fantasized about watching the gold band gleaming, covered with your juices, of watching him suck his finger clean off afterward.

It was dirty, just a bit twisted, but it was exactly the kind of thoughts he elicited from you, no matter the setting, the circumstances, or the time.

Just his proximity made your body grow hot, but being so close to him for hours on end, stuck in a daydream featuring his body on display, making your own body sing praises and moans, was another form of torture. 

And even if he wasn’t exactly showing it, ever the stoic and professional man around others, deep down you felt it - he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

Somehow, he always knew. 

It was as if he had a sixth sense when it came to you - he knew your body and mind even better than you did. He knew when your moods changed, and what the reason was. He knew when you were happy, or sad.

He knew when you were getting hot in his presence, somehow sensed when you were wet for him, and waiting for the much-needed relief he always brought you. 

And some way, somehow, he knew your every fantasy before you even had time to voice it.

That man was so incredibly in tune with your body, your entire being really, it was beautiful, but it was also maddening.

Just like it was now.

After a full day of meetings with the team, discussing old cases, and filling out files, he pulled you into his office. Tortuous didn’t even begin to cover the feeling of sitting inches away from him for hours and being unable to touch him. 

The moment the door closed behind you, and the blinds came down, he was onto you like a man starved. In all honesty, you weren’t behaving much better. 

You fisted the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him to you. He nosed your cheek before his hand caught your neck and stole the breath from your lips with a bruising kiss. There was nothing gentle about his movements, a stark contrast to his usual behavior in bed. 

He was a gentle lover because of course he was. He loved on you easily, passionately. But it felt like the proximity had turned him just as feral as it had you.

He didn’t waste any time pulling at your lower lip with his teeth in a show of dominance. You opened for him right away, and not a second later his tongue plunged into your mouth, swallowing a guttural moan in the process. 

Not only were his mouth and tongue dominating you in the sweetest way imaginable, but his touch was electrifying every neuron in your body, your temperature spiking as he played with you. 

The thrill of it stuck in his office where anyone would hear, heightened the sensation even more. 

His fingers ran across your back lightly, making you shiver against him. The moment they reached the band of your pants, he pulled your shirt out hastily. Once underneath it, his nails scratched at your tender flesh, making you hiss into the kiss.

He pulled away suddenly, his lips sliding down to leave a series of small kisses and nibbles against your jawline. 

His fingers worked urgently to unbutton your shirt until it stood open and the only thing really covering you was a white lacy bra. 

“What’s going on honey? Couldn’t keep it together for a few hours, hm?” He breathed as he took your body in. Chocolate eyes blazed with a fire behind them, running down your body and back up again. 

“Seems like I’m not the only one.” It came raspy, as you tried to take a proper breath.

“True, but honey, I’m not the one fantasizing about being fingered with a wedding ring on, am I?” Your breath hitched, but there was no point in being surprised. Deep down you knew he’d pegged your craving long ago - that was the kind of lover he was. 

Outside of being dedicated to bringing you to the highest high every time, he knew exactly which button to push to give you what you want. 

Your pleasure was his reward, your fantasy his mission. 

“You better get on with it, then.” You whispered, trying to pull him towards you again. You moaned when his lips latched onto the top of your breast spilling from your bra. You reacted instantly - one hand took hold of the desk, as the other grasped at the small hairs on the nape of his neck, strands sliding between your fingers. 

Without pulling away, you felt him catch your hips in a strong grip and walk you back toward one of the armchairs. He took a seat and pulled you into his lap, your back meeting his chest with an oomph.

Even with the numerous clothes separating you from one another, you still felt his muscles tense, his whole body jerking at the feel of you so close to him, against him.

You felt the tale tell sign of his own arousal as he hardened against your ass. Images of his rock-hard, long cock flooded your mind. 

“Funny how you think you are in charge here.” He whispered, before he bit at your ear and pulled it with his teeth. 

Before you even had time to retort, he was making quick work of unbuttoning your pants. He took the delicate material of your panties and ran it between his fingers.

“Bet you’re all wet already, aren’t you, baby?” You barely caught his words between the excitement buzzing around your whole body. 

He continued playing with your panties, like he had all the time in the world, like you weren’t burning to your very bones in anticipation. 

You nodded in answer, “Yes.” It was a high-pitched whine. 

The small kisses he gave the back of your neck completely contradicted his next move. He grasped your thighs and pulled them apart roughly. A show of his strength, of his claim on you, you weren’t sure. 

He massaged the outside as he brought his hands up and on top, slowly moving them toward the place that begged to be touched. 

He slid his hands over your mound, his touch barely a glaze over the material of your pants and the cotton of your panties still covering you. When his fingers ran over your clit, you moaned, bucking into the touch, chasing it desperately. 

Which was exactly what he wanted from you. Even with the soft touches of his lips on your fevered skin, he was playing you like his little toy. He was waiting for your cries to turn frantic, until he had to lay his hand against your mouth or kiss you, to keep you from revealing just what this devious Unit Chief was up to.

“Come on sweetheart, show me how much you want this.” One of his hands reached for your breast, squeezing the tender flesh, as the other continued strumming your lips through your pants. 

You were barely processing his words, barely listening to what he was saying. You loved it when he talked dirty, leading you on, talking you through it with that confident voice. The voice of a leader, a dominant, but soft, raspy when the high was starting to climb up his body. 

“I want it, please Aaron.” He moaned, hearing you finally use his name. God, did he not love hearing you say his name when the throes of passion had overtaken your every sense? 

“Okay, honey, okay.” He whispered, kissed your jaw as much as he could as his hand moved up and underneath, finding your panties drenched with your juices. Exactly the state he loved finding them in - messy, as he delivered the sweetest torture until he had you at his mercy. 

A begging mess of the woman he loved.

You moaned in sync when he reached your entrance, the sweetest melody composed of the roughness of his vocal cords and the softness of your timber.

His breathing picked up, and sharp exhales hit the side of your neck where his head was nestled. He ran two of his fingers down, gathering some of your essences, bringing them up to circle your clit. It made you sweat, it made you shake, delicious torture, endless edging. 

You squirmed against him, searching for friction, wanting him to finally get on with it, and push his finger inside. 

You should have known you wouldn’t have to wait much longer. Not a second later with a bite to your neck, one of his fingers finally pushed inside. 

“Look at this greedy pussy, swallowing me like a good girl.” You were so overwhelmed by finally having a part of him inside you, by his crude words, it didn’t really register at first - not until he twisted his finger.

The band scraped against your walls in the most exquisite way possible, every inch of it covered in your juices, just like you wanted.

You moaned in delight, your wet daydream coming true. The very clear, arousal-inducing vision you’d conjured as you sat amongst your colleagues. They had no idea what had been playing on a loop inside your mind for hours. 

The only person who did was the one whose touch, whose raspy voice and sharp intake of breath were making you lose all of your inhibitions, making you drunk on the pleasure he was delivering. 

He was moving lazily, barely giving you the stimulation you needed, No, it was clear he wasn’t done hearing you beg for him, it never was enough. Even with you on your knees, and already covered in his come, you had to beg and make it good.

You grasped the hand that held your middle, lacing your fingers together, your own ring shining underneath the soft light. You gave his fingers a hard squeeze, “Please.” You allowed yourself to utter. 

Aaron’s teeth scraped the side of your neck before he closed his lips to lap at the skin. 

“Please what? Tell your husband exactly what you want, go on honey.”

You shivered when he delivered another twist of his finger inside you, making the presence of his ring known again. God, this man. He knew how to touch you. He knew exactly how to push you, exactly what you wanted, and when you needed it. He knew how to love you soft, and how to fuck you hard. He knew when to edge you, and when to let you fly up into the sky like a show of fireworks on New Year’s Eve. 

This man knew exactly how to drive you mad with pleasure and keep you staying that way until he had his fill of you. 

You craned your neck as much as you could, meeting his fire-blazing eyes. Both of you were panting, breathing mingling together. 

“Fuck me, Aaron, please.” You closed the gap and touched your lips together, “Make me come.” You breathed. 

You needn't ask again.

His finger started trusting at an excruciating pace, setting your whole body from one to a hundred in seconds. 

You could barely sit still, squirming and needing more from him, needing all he could give.

So in tune with your needs, on the next trust, he added a second finger. Having two of his thick fingers crammed inside your tight pussy intensified the drag of the piece signifying your love even more. You were getting wetter as you imagined how it dragged inside you. 

You always loved seeing him wear his wedding ring, proud to parade him, and show the world he belonged to someone, that he belonged to you - and the feeling was mutual. 

But this? The spread of arousal across your whole body because of said gold band, was new, but oh so deliciously right. 

You never knew you’d crave him this way, like a madwoman unable to breathe if she didn’t have him inside you.

Electricity, fire, earth-shattering ecstasy - feelings, sensations no one else but your husband could give you. 

He scissored his fingers, twisted, pulled, trusted - relentless, mad to get you your pleasure, mad to see you come as you rode his fingers. 

Bites and scrapes of his teeth on your neck. Squeezes of your breasts inside his hands. Fingers speeding up, drenched by your desire for him. Sweet, dirty words whispered between all of the other sensations. 

“Yes, just like that, good girl.”

“Go on, yes honey, moan my name.”

“Come on, tell everyone exactly what I’m doing.”

It was all too much, too magnetic. You could hardly hold any longer. You reached back and gripped his hair, feeling his lips turn up where they sucked your pulse point. 

He knew you were nearing your end, could feel it in the shake of your legs over his, the tight grip of your hand in his hair, and the pulsing of your cunt around his fingers. He curled his fingers up, touching a place he’d been keeping himself away from until now. 

“Come on, honey, come on my fingers.” He urged you on, waiting to feel you finish for him. 

And you did, you went off like a firework, your vision blurring briefly as your pussy pulsed, your essence flowing out and making even more of a mess inside your panties and around his fingers. 

You weren’t even aware of what was happening around you as you came down - your breathing was the only thing you heard, the only thing you felt. 

Soft kisses followed a route - the side of your head, your shoulder, your cheek, and then back again. He repeated that until your breathing returned to normal and the sweat on your skin wasn’t glistening as much.

But his fingers didn’t move an inch until you were aware enough to turn your head around again.

He pulled them gently, watching your brows furrow and a sharp exhale leave you. Aaron brought his hand between you for you to see - his fingers, his entire band covered with remnants of you. 

You bit your lip, moaning at the sight. 

“Go on, clean it,” He rasped

You took hold of his wrist and brought his fingers towards your mouth. You took them together, moaning at the tangy taste of yourself, and swirled your tongue around the digits. You held his eyes, letting him know just how much you were enjoying it. 

You barely tongued at the band before you pulled them out and licked your lips, “Your turn.” Seduction dripped from your voice. 

He arched a brow, but a smirk quickly followed. You were still holding into his hand as he brought it up towards himself and wrapped his mouth around the digits. 

He shared the taste of your mouth, the wetness from your pussy, and the remainder of the rest of his life with you. 

Hours of torture - waiting, all for the feeling of your shared golden pleasure. 

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[lacroixqueen]

you're too pretty to kill (18+, noncon)

deadpool x fem!reader

Summary: deadpool was hired to kidnap and kill reader but reader is just too cute so it puts him in a moral dilemma

Pairing: fem!reader x deadpool

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Tags: bondage, brat, gun kink, gun play, praise kink

You loved days when you could just rollerblade around the city without so much as a care in the world. The feeling of the warm summer breeze running through your hair. Watching as the lights zipped by like dust lost in the wind. You wish you could do this forever. After all, it was your peace, your one true happy place. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Out of nowhere, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and a leather glove holding a handkerchief cover your nose and mouth. 

You tried your best to fight whoever your assailant was back, pulling on his wrist in a desperate attempt to rip it off your face. But before you knew it, you felt your vision blur and your head begin to spin. It felt like the world was melting right before your very eyes. 

Next thing you knew, you woke up to a sea of black. You could feel a piece of fabric cloaking your vision and tied securely behind your head. You tried to move your hand to hoist yourself up, only to find that both your hands were roped together behind your back. You tried to scream into the void, only to find that your mouth was sealed with a piece of tape.

“Mmfffhn!” you managed to sputter out, leaning against what felt like a cold, concrete wall. In fact, it was quite chilly wherever you were. Was it a basement? Warehouse? Regardless, you were shivering from head to toe. The tiny crop top and mini skirt you threw on this morning before going rollerblading was just not cutting it, unfortunately. 

You quickly snapped your head in the direction of what sounded like heavy footsteps and… clapping?

“Well, well, well,” a sly voice rumbled from the opposite end of the room. “Now what do we have here?” 

The unknown person gradually made his way over toward you, knelt before you, and removed your blindfold and gag. 

You looked up, only to lock eyes with what you could only describe as two white ellipses, narrowing ever so slightly amidst the shadows. Your eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. 

“Such a shame,” your captor sighed to himself. “You’re so pretty too. As in, way prettier than most of my other victims. Normally my clients pay me big bucks to knock out assholes with beer bellies, bad breath, and a name on the registry but you.” He made a rectangle with his thumbs and index fingers as if to take your photograph. “You are perfect.”

“Wh-what are you going to do with me..?” you stammered, almost too afraid to ask. You never took your eyes off of him. He was tall, lanky, even. Dressed in all red and black. You took note of the gun in his holster and the two massive swords strapped behind his back.

“Oh, nothing to write home about,” he assured, ruffling up your hair like you two were childhood best friends. “Well, I guess if you are really dying to know. Someone important wants you dead. So I guess you could say, I, being one of if not the most popular hitmen on the black market, was hired to.. Uh, what’s the word, kill you! Yeahhhh, that sounds about right.”

“I don’t understand,” you muttered to yourself. “All my life, I can’t think of a single thing I did that could possibly warrant this, I mean.. why me?”

“Oh how tragic,” Wade remarked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while a tear slowly rolled down your cheek. “I mean, who in their right mind would want to kill someone like you? You are the literal picture perfect definition of the girl next door who wouldn’t hurt a flea. It would take a psychopath to even dream of such a thing!”

You glared at him while he carried on his little performance. “Don’t mock me.”

“Oh.” Deadpool stopped mid-sentence as he lifted up your chin with the tip of his index finger. “So it’s going to be like that, then.”

He leaned back slowly, only to gingerly remove his pistol from its holster. 

“Tell me, Y/N..” he whispered softly. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

“I.. no..” you replied, gasping as he pressed the cold barrel against your cheek. 

“Would you say you’ve ever, oh I don’t know, felt it on your skin?” he teased, dragging it across your neck and collarbone. He took notice of how you swallowed the lump in your throat nervously, and the way your lip quivered ever so slightly. 

“Or what about in your mouth..” his voice suddenly took a dark turn as he shoved the front of the handgun in between your lips, forcing it into the back of your throat. 

You felt your blood run cold. At first, it all felt like some sort of a game. Like one sick, twisted joke. But now, it suddenly became real. 

Wade was absolutely giddy, watching your soft, plump lips part open and accept the icy metal. He liked seeing how your pink tongue was forced still and how you squirmed like a helpless animal he had total control over. And the adorable little noises you made when your mouth was full. It delighted him in a way even he couldn’t explain. 

“Would you say you’ve ever.. choked on one?” he said, barely being able to contain his laughter. Without another word, he pushed the pistol even deeper, causing it to squeeze against your uvula, eliciting your gag reflex. 

“Whghnnn..” you muffled out, trying your best to mentally distance yourself as far away from this entire ordeal as possible. Your mind was racing at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You were trying to formulate a plan, something, anything to have him show you mercy. 

“Wow, you really are so good at this,” Wade mumbled, not relenting at all as he continued to shove the gun further down your throat. “Definitely better than I thought. Hey, do you like practice or something? Because God, you are a natural! If I weren’t about to kill you right now, I’d hire you on the spot.”

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo. 

Realizing he wasn’t getting any further reaction from you, Deadpool slowly removed the pistol from your lips, watching with glee as a string of saliva connected your tongue from the tip of the barrel. 

He then proceeded to drag the side of the handgun across your chest, over your bare stomach, and finally, resting on the waistband of your skirt. 

“So.. Y/N was it?” Deadpool rambled on, as he played with the pleats of your skirt with his free hand. “Right. You know, I would say I don’t have a lot of weaknesses in this world, wouldn’t you agree? So anyways, after I got mutated and all fucked up from that bastard Francis and became who I am now, there’s very little out there that truly phases me these days. But this..”

He gestured towards your pastel pink miniskirt. “This is something else.” 

And with that, he gently lifted up the cloth with the front of his gun to reveal your lacy magenta underwear.

“A thong! Boooold,” he commented, pressing the cold metal of the barrel right up against your labia. “I was wondering if you were wearing something underneath, and this answers the question. God, that’s hot. You know what’s hotter, though? One of my best friends, Logan. There’s just something so je ne sais quoi about that beautiful man. Anyways.”

Your breath hitched. Suddenly, a wave of goosebumps cascaded over your skin, and it was like the world just stopped making sense. Why did this suddenly feel sort of.. good? Minus the incessant yapping and endless sidetracked one-sided conversation, you wanted more. More of whatever this was. 

And Wade granted your wish. He pulled the fabric of your thong to the side with his other hand and gently prodded your clit with the tip of his pistol. 

He was taken aback when you moaned softly at the sensation. 

“Oh?” he said as he raised an eyebrow.

He pressed the gun even harder onto your pink pearl, eliciting another sigh. 

“Huh. Color me impressed,” he muttered. “This entire time I thought you were fighting for your life but you are actually enjoying this? You dirty little slut! And here I thought you were prim proper little miss perfect..”

“Why.. why are you stopping?” you breathed, a splash of pink brightening up your cheeks, causing him even more of a surprise. “Just keep.. Keep going.”

And to his own dismay, he obliged. 

“How would you feel if I did this?” Wade asked, but before you could even react, he had already shoved the barrel of the gun deep into your cunt. 

You tossed your head back in response, moaning helplessly as he pushed the pistol in and out of your swollen pussy.

“Ah, ah~” you cried out, instinctively spreading your legs open to allow him even more access.

“Now that’s a good girl!” he encouraged, taking note of your subtle invitation and pushing it even harder and deeper than he did before. “Wow. You know, this has been truly enlightening, Y/N. I never in a million years would have guessed you of all people would turn out to be a freak! And you, my friend, are the freakiest of the freaks.”

“I-I am not!” you protested, gasping as you felt the cold steel pushing heartlessly against your walls. “I like normal things too.”

“Uh huh,” Wade said as he continued to fuck your insides relentlessly with his gun. “And I am a three-headed sabertooth tiger named Richard. See? We can all tell lies to ourselves! It’s fun.” 

You could feel yourself practically melting into his hands, your soul floating into the ceiling until you heard it. The click. 

“Well, it has been real Y/N,” Deadpool sighed, his index finger resting comfortably on the trigger. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell had the time of my life! Shit, if we didn’t meet under these circumstances, we absolutely would have hit it off in another reality. As in, I would have fucked you in a multitude of positions in a variety of exotic outdoor locations! Unfortunately, however, the fun and games have to come to an end somehow. I mean, wouldn’t you agree?”

You felt as if your heart was about to both break and jump out of your chest simultaneously. 

“B-but..” you tried to reason with him. Not that it was any use, of course. “I really liked this..”

“I know, babe,” Wade cooed, his free hand snaking up and gripping around your throat tightly. “But if I don’t kill you now, I probably never will because you are just too cute. And sometimes I just can’t help myself but make stupid decisions.”

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, looking up at him. 

Wade was just about to pull the trigger until you caught his eye.

“Aw, FUCK!” he shouted, immediately removing the gun from your dripping snatch. “Don’t.. don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you inquired innocently, tilting your head to the side. 

“That!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards your face. “Looking up at me with those big, stupid adorable eyes. You know I can’t help myself when you do that.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you shrugged. “Besides, I thought you had already made up your mind. You sounded pretty sure of yourself after all.”

“You know, you really are a little shit, you know that?” Deadpool fired back, placing his hands on his hips. “God, and this was supposed to be sexy and dangerous, but you totally ruined the atmosphere.”

You smiled to yourself, self-assured in your victory. “Well, does that mean you are going to let me go?”

“Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself,” Wade responded, untying your ropes and smacking you on the ass as you stood up. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Before you walked out of the warehouse, you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek over his mask. “Thank you.”

“Go, GO!” he yelled, pushing you towards the exit of the dingy building. “And don’t come back.”

And as soon as you came, you were free. The moonlight poured through the cracks of the tree branches outside and lit up your face. The door slammed behind you in a dramatic fashion. And with that, you finally felt yourself settling into another moment of peace. 

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Let Me Prove It

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> After months of grieving for Logan, he proves to you he's not going anywhere.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of death, blood, reader goes through grief of losing Logan. Angst, sadness, some fluff. There is a happy ending. Illusions to smut towards the end. Not Proof Read.

You could remember the day you fell in love with Logan Howlett. 

It had been a rainy afternoon. Nothing grand had happened that day. The kids had been in classes all day, most exams were happening all week but by Friday, they’d all be over for the semester. There was stew, heating up on the stove, and you had been reading your book. 

At least, you’d been trying to. 

Often, your mind would wander off on its own and only half way through your train of thought would you realise you had boarded the wrong train and it was already moving. And just like a flash of a meadow, snapping past one of the compartment windows, you discovered you had feelings for Logan. 

And watching him walk through the backdoor only a moment later, confirmed your thoughts. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

Your train came to a halt and you snapped up, focusing on reality. “What?”

Logan grumbled. “Nothing. Dinner ready?”

“Almost. Storm’s looking for you, by the way. She wants to know if you can cover her class next week. She’s got a doctor's appointment and no one’s available.”

Logan still had his back turned as he looked in the cupboard for something. “Sure. What class?”

“History. What are you looking for?”

Logan didn’t fully answer you. He just mumbled a noise before pulling a small box out from the back and closing the door. Turning around he opened it up, took a cookie out before offering it to you. 

“She got a lesson plan?”

Looking down at your book, you dog-eared the page. Sometimes, you’d use a bookmark but considering most of them would disappear without a trace and leave you fending for yourself to find your page again, hours after you’d read it, you gave up on them. 

“Yeah, she’s already left it in your room.”

“Of course she has.” Logan took another bite of his cookie and rounded the kitchen island. 

Your gaze followed him. Mostly out of curiosity. You and Logan were friends. Not best friends. But good friends. Well…

Good enough friends. 

Could you really be in love with him?

Reaching up into the top cupboard, he brought down the set of bowls and took half from the top. 

“You take the rest.”

And for the next ten minutes, you both laid out the table in time for dinner. 

Then you watched as he helped some of the younger kids with their hot meals. Despite all of his grumbling and his small protests when it came to calling him the best baby-sitter. 

Logan was good with kids. 

Yep. 

You were in love with Logan. 

And just like how you could remember the day you fell in love with Logan, you could also remember the day he died. 

It had torn you to pieces. 

It still did. 

It had been on a mission. You’d all faced worse before. And yet, somehow, nobody was prepared for what was about to happen. Everything blew up. Quite literally. You had been helping some of the kids to safety with Storm and Scott. Scott had left half way through, running to find Jean and help her. Storm had given him cover, as well as the kids. 

And once you knew the kids were in safe hands on the jet, you ran back. 

Only, when you got to the top of the hill, having skidded to a halt only to catch yourself on a rotting tree, you looked down to see for the first time, the image that would be forever imprinted in your mind. 

Logan and Jean were at the bottom. Scott had made it just in time to hold his girlfriend back when Logan took the brunt of the attack. It sent him flying and when he fell to the floor, your gut twisted. 

Usually, he’d get up. 

But something was off. 

He wasn’t getting up. Not as quickly, anyway. 

And when he did, an attack came sooner than anyone else had expected. 

Straight through his stomach and a second through his side, Logan was impaled to the tree before being torn from it, sent flying forward with the tentacle branches before being pulled off and sent flying to the ground. 

You remembered screaming his name along with the others before running forward. Storm had made it there before you, but you were the first on your knees beside him, trying to check for any healing that was starting. 

It wasn’t. 

You heard the muffled voices of the rest of the team in your ears, fighting against your own heartbeat as you looked down at Logan. He was bleeding out and fast. 

The bodies beside you disappeared and followed after the attacker and soon everything became…

Silent. 

The ringing in your ears had stopped, your ears had gotten used to your own heartbeat, and you tried your best to focus on Logan. 

His eyes were closed. Begging him through your own tears for him to open his, you took his hand. Feeling for his pulse, it was weak. And getting weaker. 

“Logan…please. Please don’t do this.”

Then your hearing focused on his heartbeat. Each beat took longer to come after the other until finally, with one weak squeeze of goodbye to your hand, Logan died. 

The hours that followed after that became a blur. 

The man you loved but had never told had died in front of you. You had heard his heartbeat stop. You had felt his last goodbye. He never got any last words. Just one last touch. 

And every night that followed after that, you re-lived it. Over and over and over again. Each night, the same. Logan. The branches. The blood. The pulse. The heartbeat. The touch. The silence. 

Sometimes you’d wake just as he touched your hand, the ghost of a feeling left on your palm as you woke. 

The others never bothered to ask. At least, not after the first time you had told them. The Professor had gathered you all in his office after everything had happened. And all you could think of was that Logan’s body was lay, lifeless, underneath the school. 

He had asked you what had happened and, with your arms folded and your eyes on the ground, you answered him. 

“He wasn’t healing. There wasn’t anything I could do. He died,” you explained before looking up at the Professor and giving him Logan’s time of death. “May I go now? I want to make sure the kids are okay.”

The Professor excused you and you left as quickly as you could, the door slamming a little louder than you had meant. 

And for the next two months, you…kept yourself busy. 

People talked about Logan, they were determined to keep his memory alive. But they didn’t have to go to bed at night, just for his memory to die again. Each morning, you seemed to wake up earlier than usual. And with the feeling of Logan’s hand against yours, you busied yourself as best as you could. 

Grading papers, alphabetising the library, cleaning every possible surface including the ceilings, constantly doing the laundry. Weeding out the garden, planting some new flower beds. Fixing the creaky wooden board in the hallway, painting the doors and wooden boards between the windows. Trimming the bushes, scrubbing the pots (even the old ones that weren’t in use anymore). 

You did anything and everything you could. Mostly to keep your mind busy but party because you hoped, if you tired yourself out enough, you might have caught a break. Made it one night through without re-living Logan’s death. 

But all of that changed one afternoon when you were called to the Professor’s study. 

Where you came face to face with…

Logan. 

Everyone was confused. 

Apart from the Professor. 

And throughout the meeting you remained quiet. Obviously, everyone was angry at the fact the Professor had kept such a big secret. 

“We didn’t know if it would work and we didn’t want anyone to have to re-live their grief.” The Professor explained. “It was a shot in the dark.”

“How is this even possible?” Storm asked as she sat down. 

“It seems Logan’s healing abilities were simply weakened. He needed help to heal. Medical help that not I, nor I’m afraid even you, Jean, could give him. There is a doctor I know, based in Alberta. She helped boost Logan’s healing factor and made sure that whatever had weakened him was no longer in his system.”

There was a little more explaining to do, but you could feel yourself drifting from the conversation. You just kept looking at Logan as he stood by the window and the Professor’s desk. 

He had his back turned when you had walked inside, the others all looking confused and annoyed, having to wait for you before they got their explanation. 

He had died. 

You had seen him die. 

You had felt him die. 

And yet, there he stood. His hands in his pockets, looking around the room, breathing and living as if nothing had even happened. 

Not long after all the explanations, everyone got to voice their opinion and you came last. Everyone looked at you, including Logan. 

And all you wanted to do was run.

To him or away from him, you couldn’t quite tell. 

So, with a breath, you forced a half smile and nodded. “It’s good to have you back. Professor, may I go? I’ve got a class that’s about to start.”

“Of…of course. I would have thought-”

Reaching for the door, you looked back. “See you round, Logan.”

Just before you closed the door, you heard Storm announce her way to Logan to give him a hug. But even the Professor couldn’t concentrate on that because he couldn’t help but notice there was something different about you. 

Of course, he’d noticed you’d been keeping yourself busy. Missing out on family dinners, eating yours when you found the time later on in the evening, cleaning up the classrooms after hours, doing a little touch ups here and there with a smaller paint can and paintbrush. 

Little did he know, you had just been filling in the spots you had missed the day before. 

But he had figured you had been like the others. Itching to hug Logan. Being glad he was alive and breathing. 

Instead…

You had barely said two words and had left as soon as you could. 

“Are you okay?” Storm asked you later that night when you were cooking dinner. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Storm lifted herself onto a stool opposite you. “I don’t know. You just didn’t seem…excited about Logan being back.”

“Of course I’m excited he’s back.”

“Then would it kill you to show it?” Storm asked, half jokingly. “Here, let me help.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, I’m almost done.”

Storm moved her hands away from your chopping board slowly. “Okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You smiled. “Ororo, I’m fine. Scouts honour. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

You shrugged, forcing your mind back to reality. “Nothing. It’s just been a long day, s’all.”

Later that evening, you found yourself alone in your classroom. The others were down the hall having dinner but you had found yourself something to do. You could have gone down but whether out of habit of the last two months or fear, you didn’t wish to join them. 

Your appetite had already been worse for wear over the last couple of weeks. If you were sat at the table, across from Logan, you wouldn’t have been able to even think about eating. 

So, taking another bite of your sandwich, you turned back to your essays. 

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Logan looked around the table. You were missing. 

“Whose turn was it to cook tonight?” Logan asked. 

“Y/n’s.” Jean told him. “She’s been making most of the meals lately. Guess she just got the cooking bug.”

“But she’s not here.”

Jean shrugged it off. “She’ll probably get some later.”

“Where is she?” He asked as he went to stand. But Jean stopped him. 

“Oh, no. Stay. Come on, Everyone needs to catch up.”

“Catch up on what?” Logan asked. “I’ve been in a hospital in Alberta for two months.”

“Please, just…stay. Besides, Y/n’ll appear when she wants. She’s probably busy.”

And after a little bit more convincing, Logan stayed. You’d left so abruptly that morning, he questioned if you even wanted to see him at all. 

It continued like that for a week. 

At first, Logan tried to convince himself you weren’t avoiding him. But as the week went on and he began to see less of you inside his routine, he knew you had to be. 

And then he began to notice things. 

Everything seemed cleaner than when he had left. And brighter. Fresher, even. The doors had been given a paint job. Despite it being dry, he could still smell the aroma of fresh paint in the air. The halls were less creaky when he walked down them. The cupboards were tidier. He could find his cookies with ease now. 

And despite the fact he didn’t read all that much, he knew the library had changed. Even the books that no-one ever touched. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen near them. And one of his personal favourites – a book he tended to read around winter, where the cover was falling off and the pages were falling apart – had been binded to look like new.

So, taking action into his own hands, he went to look for you. 

And it wasn’t long before he found you. 

You had escaped him when he saw you planting fresh flowers in the garden, and you had escaped him when you had brought in the groceries having used Storm as a distraction for you to slip out of the kitchen once everything was away. 

But he had found you in the library. 

Once again, you hadn’t come to dinner, making up an excuse that you needed to work. And Logan knew for a fact you hadn’t left to come and get your dinner yet so, he brought it to you. 

“Thought you might be hungry.”

You looked up but Logan had already heard the change in your pulse. 

“Oh…thanks. You can just leave it there.”

And he did. 

“You’ve got to eat at some point.”

“I will,” you looked back up at him. “Soon. I promise.”

This was the longest conversation you’d both had since he got back. So, he took a seat across from you. 

“What are you working on?”

“Work.”

Logan smiled. “Funny.”

Then the silence washed over you both. But he didn’t want it to stick. “Y/n?”

You hummed a response. 

“Can you look at me?”

Your heartbeat seemed to jump and you took in a discrete breath. Finally seeing your face, Logan smiled. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve not been avoiding you.” You looked back at your work. 

“Yes, you have.”

“What makes you say that?”

Logan gave you a list. “The constant work, the avoidance of dinners, the silent treatment. Did I do something?”

You shook your head. “You haven’t done anything, Logan.”

“Then can you look at me when you tell me that so I might believe you.”

Finally, you looked at him. 

“Tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.”

Logan asked again. “What’s going on?”

You laughed, nervously. “Nothing’s going on. Logan, I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because you’ve been avoiding me since I got back and- what? What is it?”

You laughed again, except this time you didn’t know how you’d describe it. 

“‘Got back’ you repeated his words. “You say that as if you left for a vacation. You died, Logan. Or did you forget that?”

“No. Y/n. What’s going on?”

You shook your head and packed away your things as quickly as you could. “Forget I said anything. Thanks for dinner.”

“You didn’t even eat-” Logan watched you walk away from him again. 

He’d rather have you fight him than avoid him, so he pressed on. 

“Talk to me.” Logan followed after you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s late, Logan. Go to bed.”

“Only when you do.”

“What?” You asked. 

“Your bedroom, it’s upstairs, down the hall from mine. In the opposite direction. The only thing this way is your classroom.”

“I’ve got to finish grading.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

You shrugged. “What teacher doesn’t get enough sleep?”

“Something is going on. Something has been going on. For a while. Please,” Logan begged. “Just tell me what it is.”

You stopped in your tracks. “Do you really want to know what it is?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded, stopping in front of you. 

“Okay then, I’ll tell you.”

And you did. 

“I watched you die, Logan. I heard your heart stop. I watched as blood pooled out of your body with no way for me to stop it. Even after three scalding hot showers, I still had your bloodstains on my skin, under my nails and on my clothes. Every night when I close my eyes, I re-live it. Everything. Every tiny detail. And the silence afterwards…it’s deafening. Sometimes I wake up, still feeling the pressure you put into my hand. Sometimes it’s still there hours after I wake up. I had spent every single day keeping myself busy, finding extra work for myself, just to make sure that I don’t start daydreaming about the waking nightmare I had to watch you go through. I had spent the last two months going over and over in my head what I would say to you if I ever saw you again. But I could never bring myself to do it, because I had watched you die. I had felt you die. So, please. Forgive me if I’m not jumping with joy because I can miraculously forget what happened, like everyone else.”

Logan let your words wash over him. No one had told him. He had a sneaking suspicion they hadn’t because even they didn’t know. Maybe they never asked. Maybe they just hadn’t noticed. 

Gaining back your breath, you went to turn away. 

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Closing your classroom door behind you, you silently locked it and pressed your back against it feeling your entire body start to shake. Slowly, your legs went from underneath you and you lowered yourself to the ground by sliding down the door. You tried your best to squeeze your tears back into your eyes with the heels of your hands, but nothing could stop them. 

Not now. 

Not when you had just admitted the truth to the one man you never thought you would see again. 

Three times Logan turned back to your classroom door, ready to walk inside. But he didn’t know what he would say. 

So he waited. 

Back in his room, he waited to hear the door to your room close. 

And after two hours, he finally did. 

And before he knew it, his feet were carrying him towards your door. Only, he stood there for ten minutes, unsure of what to do with himself. 

At some point, he finally knocked. 

Turning off the tap by the sink, you hung up your flannel onto the radiator bar and dried off your face when you heard the soft knock at your door. 

There was only one person who could have been up so late. 

He knocked again after a minute or two. 

And you opened up the door. 

Whatever Logan had just semi-prepared in his mind, slipped away. He was going to say something. But looking at you, standing in front of him…all words failed him. 

And the longer he stood in front of you, the louder the reminder came to you that he wasn’t dead. He was alive. He could be shot with twelve live rounds and the bullets would pop right back out of his skin. His claws would flare out and he’d be Wolverine. They’d retract and his skin would heal instantly. There would be no evidence that anything had ever happened. 

Then six words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them. Before even your brain could register the thought. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Logan felt his chest crack and his heart impale with pain. 

Pushing the door open a little wider, his arms engulfed you in an embrace that would forever be imprinted on your soul. Your own arms wrapped around him, trying to remember the feel of him both physically and spiritually in case the day ever came where you truly would never see him again. 

That if this was going to be your only memory of him, you could never, ever forget it. 

Lifting you up in his embrace for a moment, Logan walked further inside your room, kicking the door shut with his foot. Even if no one else was awake, he didn’t want to risk anyone walking by. Clearly, no-one else knew what you had been living through in your nightmares. And he didn’t want anyone else to share this moment between himself and you.

“You spared me the pain of being alone.” Logan whispered into your hair. “I was less scared because you were there.”

“I couldn’t have left you.” 

Your tears were back to rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry about everything you had to go through.”

Logan softly kissed away your tears, wiping the others away. 

You took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Logan shook his head. “You saved me. You stayed with me.”

“But-”

With both your eyes closed, and Logan’s, you felt his forehead touch yours as his hands cradled your cheeks. “I’m real, Y/n. I’m alive.”

You felt Logan take your hand and press it to his chest, over his heart. His heartbeat was mostly steady, if a little quick. Spreading your fingers across his chest, you felt it rise and fall with his breathing. 

“I’m alive,” he kept repeating. “I’m alive.”

Logan’s breath was drawing closer to yours. “Logan…”

“Let me prove it to you.”

And you let him.

Capturing your breath in a kiss, Logan remained soft at first. He didn’t want to scare you. He didn’t want you to jump and run away from him like you had done only a few hours before in the library. 

But then you kissed back. 

So he moved his hands through your hair and over your body until you were pressed against him as close as you possibly could be. 

Your own hands pulled him in closer by his neck whilst the hand he’d placed over his heart remained fixed in its position. 

Logan was proving to every sense in your body he was real. That he was alive. Almost counteracting the memory that had been drawn from a waking nightmare. 

And as he lifted you up, your back soon pressing against the wall, you and Logan knew he would be spending the rest of the night doing exactly what he told you he wanted to do. 

Prove it to you. 

As morning rolled around, you felt a warm body next to you, tangled not only in you but also your sheets. 

Logan. 

His arms practically caged around you, you recalled every single detail from the night before. Your argument in the hallways, the classroom, the knock at the door, the hug, the kiss, the proof. 

And then, you felt yourself, for the first time in months, give a real smile. 

Lowering your head, you buried yourself in between Logan’s chest and your bedsheets, feeling his arms tense at your movement, holding you in the bed without a way of escape. 

And as your body reacted to his touch you realised something. 

For the first time since his death, you hadn’t had a nightmare. You hadn’t seen his death play on repeat inside your head. And the touch you were feeling wasn’t in your hand but rather all across your body. 

Parts were aching with a soreness you never quite knew was possible and later when you would look in the mirror, you would find fingertip bruises by your hips, love bites leading down your hip bone and on your inner thigh. Smaller ones were also dotted around your collar and neck, but a rather prominent one was yet to be left by the crook of your neck from behind where Logan’s lips would find themselves before you got into a fresh shower, Logan joining almost immediately. 

But until then, you’d revel in the feeling of Logan’s constant heartbeat against your hand, and for a moment your lips as you kissed his skin. Before he woke up and proved to you time and time again how real he was and how much the memory that had plagued you for two months was something that, although wasn’t easy to forget about, could become something of a distant memory. 

And for the rest of your lives, he would make sure to do exactly that.

[anamina0]

Echoes

Part I , Part II , Part III , Part IV , Part V , Part VI, Part VII , Part VIII

Summary: Fleeing the wreckage of your heartbreak, you land in the chaos of Zaun, pouring drinks at a dingy bar. You're still facing unresolved feelings and emotions towards Ellie, but they’re easier to bury when Vi storms into your life—a whirlwind of sharp words and reckless energy. You start off bad, really bad but it's enough for you to think of something else for a bit.

warnings/themes : angst, heartbreak, lots of trauma, kind of enemies to lovers, unresolved feelings, a bit of violence, eventual smut, au

word count : 3.8k

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Back at it again, falling just where you started , completely alone , full of sorrow and regrets. Moving away to a completely unknown place was the best escape plan - literally. You knew nothing about this city, save for a few stories your best friend had told you. Yet, even the thought of staying in the same place as her couldn’t outweigh your choice - you'd rather wander off Zaun's shadowed streets, losing yourself for a lifetime than remain bound to the familiar.

City was close to what you have imagined. The fractures that happened few years ago helped to a great extent , after decades of suffering, the city had finally exhaled, though it had not lost its soul. Cleansed of its grime, its fumes, and its shadowed figures, the streets and the people remained exactly as your friend had described them—a perfect echo of her tales.

Finding a job wasn't hard , from now on you'd serve drinks in one of the city’s dim, suspiciously isolated bars—barely more than a shadow in the corner of a forgotten street. Pay wasn't good but it was enough for an apartment and food, nothing else mattered to you. You were trying your best to take as many shifts as you could, working whole night helped you not think about her , during daytime you would typically crash out , exhausted from your job. And yet, she always found a way to reappear.

At the bar, you distracted yourself by watching customers. Most of them came for a drink and a chance to ease their burdens, but for you, the real game was observing them—piecing together their stories from a glance, a gesture, a half-heard conversation. Sometimes , thought of her would reappear . Something would remind you of her scent, her voice, slipping into your mind without warning. But you had mastered the art of distraction, shifting your focus before the memories could take root.

It was in your dreams where she would visit most frequently, escape from her was almost impossible, as though she determined to remind you of what you wanted to forget: that no change of address, no new life, could erase her. She was etched into you, inescapably, a part of you as much as your own breath. But you had to move on , that's what you were best at, carrying pain and suffering throughout your life, god knows you've been doing that since the day you were born.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Can we talk?” she asked, her tone calm but firm, as she stepped closer to you.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Ellie,” you whispered, bracing yourself for the inevitable fallout. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” The words spilled out in a shaky breath.

Her green eyes searched yours, unreadable but sharp. “Why is that?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost careful.

“You already know why,” you said, your gaze flickering over her face—her furrowed brow, the tightness in her jaw. Anxiety clawed at your chest, every emotion colliding at once: fear, anger, love, and a desire that burned despite everything. Losing her wasn’t an option, not like this.

“That’s the problem,” she said, stepping even closer, her boots scraping softly against the floor. “I don’t know why. You told me how you felt and then ran off, didn’t even wait for my answer.” Her voice broke slightly, frustration seeping through, though she was clearly trying to hold it together—for your sake. “That’s not fair.”

“I couldn’t take it anym—” you began, but your trembling words cut short as Ellie moved.

Her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm and steady against your skin. “I need you,” she whispered, her voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “More than you could ever need me.”

“Nothing’s going to change that,” she said, her voice unwavering now, as if it was the most certain truth in the world.

* * * * * * * * *

Once again, your own screams tore you from sleep, Ellie had found her way into your dreams.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, the echo of her voice lingered in your ears. You glanced at the clock hanging crookedly on the wall and exhaled in relief—it was almost time for another shift.

You moved through your routine on autopilot: a quick shower, clothes and out the door. The walk to the bar felt like a blur, your thoughts still tangled with fragments of the dream you couldn’t shake.

“Hey there,” you greeted Revek, arguably only person who could be considered as your friend in Zaun , as you stepped behind the counter.

He glanced at you with that signature smirk of his, tossing his apron onto the counter. “Well, well, look who decided to show up. Twenty minutes late, no less.” Leaning against the bar, he crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Alright, what is it this time? Lost your keys? Got cornered by some hooligans? Or let me guess—lost track of time again?” His smirk widened as he tapped the counter, signaling for his usual drink.

“Cut me some slack, you asshole,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like they’re paying me enough to show up on time.” You reached for the shaker, pouring his drink without missing a beat. “I just… had a bad dream, alright?”

The smirk faded slightly as he took the cup from your hand, his gaze softening. “Not again,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. He took a long sip before adding, “You know, if you ever want to talk about it… I’m here.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly, brushing him off with a weak smile. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Now scooch—you’re scaring off my customers.”

Revek gave you a knowing look, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he pushed himself off the barstool, raising the cup in a mock toast. “Fine, fine. Just don’t forget—I’ve got a hell of a good ear for this kind of thing.”

You watched him walk away, trying to shove down the unease crawling up your spine. Fixing your hair in the reflection of a glass, you turned to face the empty bar. The night was long, but at least behind the counter, you could pretend your mind wasn’t a battlefield.

The day had been dragging. The bar was dead slow, with only a few regulars stopping by for a drink and a bit of small talk. You made an effort to keep busy—wiping down the already spotless counter, rearranging bottles, polishing glasses—anything to make the hours pass. Not until she walked in. The air shifted instantly, the tension almost suffocating as the door swung shut behind her. You froze, your hand mid-reach for a glass, and looked up. You’d seen countless faces walk through those doors. From the desperate to the careless, from the downtrodden to the troublemakers, the bar had welcomed them all. Nobody ever stood out—nobody cared about anyone else here. That’s what you liked about this place. People came in, had their drinks, exchanged a few words, maybe played a game or two, and left as if they’d never existed to one another. But her? She shattered that silence like glass. You didn’t know who she was, but everyone else seemed to. Heads turned, conversations halted, and even the usual clamor of the old jukebox seemed to dull in her presence. She strode toward the bar, brushing off the stares that trailed her like shadows. It was obvious she didn’t give a single fuck about anyone in the room. Whatever power she held over the crowd, she didn’t seem interested in wielding it—at least, not tonight. Stopping at the counter, she gave the drinks menu the briefest glance before tapping the laminated surface with her finger.

"Can I have this?” she muttered, her voice low and uninterested, pointing to a drink. Then, without looking at you, she added, “Make it a double.”

“Sure thing,” you replied, watching her as you reached for the bottle. She didn’t meet your gaze, didn’t acknowledge you at all, but that only gave you the chance to study her features: pink hair cut into a sharp mullet, light blue eyes that didn’t seem to care about much, and freckles scattered across her nose like they’d been painted there.

“Here you go,” you said, sliding the drink toward her. She grabbed it without a word, her attention flickering to the room around her. Even now, she seemed utterly uninterested in you—or anyone else, for that matter. She didn’t sip the drink so much as down it, her throat working as the liquid disappeared almost too quickly. You found yourself leaning slightly forward, unable to look away. There was something about her, something impossible to read. You liked puzzles, and she was the hardest one you’d come across in a long time.

Who was she? Some kind of criminal? Or maybe she was the exact opposite? Why was she here? Trying to get drunk, or waiting for someone? Before you could settle on an answer, she tapped the counter sharply, her empty glass sitting in front of her. The message was clear. Another. You poured the drink without hesitation, the silence between you stretching long and tense. As you set the glass down, she didn’t so much as glance your way.

“You’re welcome,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, hoping to at least provoke some kind of reaction.

It worked—but not the way you’d hoped. She turned her head, finally looking at you, and you almost wished she hadn’t. Her glare was sharp, cutting, and filled with barely-contained anger.

“Just do your job,” she said coldly, her voice low and cutting. “I didn’t come here for chitchat.”

She turned back to her drink, dismissing you entirely, but the tension she left behind lingered in the air, coiling around you like smoke. Whatever game you thought you were playing, she wasn’t interested.

“What an asshole,” you thought bitterly, dragging your gaze away from her and down to the bar. The question lingered in your mind—should you say something? Not because you couldn’t stand up for yourself, but because, you weren’t sure if she was even worth it.

She tossed back another drink, her sharp eyes cutting across the room as she motioned lazily for someone to come over.

“Again,” she muttered, her gaze flicking back to you. For a fleeting second, it softened—just barely. But the moment was gone as fast as it came, replaced by her usual aloofness when a tall man approached her with an appearance that screamed trouble. You busied yourself making another drink, ears pricked to catch their conversation.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here, Vi,” the man greeted her, his tone carrying an edge of wary excitement.

She chuckled dryly, grabbing her fresh glass without even looking at him.

“What are you playing over there?” she asked, dismissive, like she hadn’t even heard him.

He hesitated, glancing at his buddies like he was searching for backup. It was obvious he didn’t want her involved, but too afraid to say no.

“Just some boring cards,” he replied with a strained grin. “You’re, uh, welcome to join.”

“I’ll be right there.” Her words were ice-cold as she turned back to you. “Another one.”

You stared at her silently, letting your expression say everything your words didn’t. She noticed. Of course, she noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, she took the drink you handed her and headed over to the table of men, sliding into a seat among the kind who spent their nights gambling away the last shreds of their dignity. Vi. That was her name. At least you had that much now. But she was still a puzzle—a unsolvable one. You watched her, lost in your thoughts, until Revek appeared from the back of the bar, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on her.

“Haven’t seen her in a while,” he muttered, settling onto a stool.

“Who even is she?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Revek leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Remember I told you abour shit that went down three years ago? Piltover, Zaun, all that Hextech chaos?”

You nodded.

“She was part of it. A big part.”

You squinted, piecing it together. “That explains why everyone knows her down here.” You frowned, the anger bubbling back up. “She’s an asshole.”

Revek chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, you could say that. After everything went to hell, she holed up in some dump around here. Doesn’t talk to anyone. Just drifts between bars, sometimes… worse places, drowning herself in cheap booze.”

“Was she always like this?” you pressed, desperate to understand.

“That’s a long story,” Revek began, but his words were cut off by the sharp sound of glass shattering across the room.

Your head snapped toward the noise. Of course, it was her, standing over some poor bastard, yelling and swearing. Revek shot you a look and stood, ready to step in, but you stopped him with a firm hand.

“I’ll handle it,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“You sure?” he asked, hesitation in his voice.

You nodded, already moving toward the chaos. By the time you got there, she was on top of the guy, fists flying with a fury that could have leveled buildings. The crowd around them was frozen, too shocked—or maybe too entertained—to intervene.

“Hey!” you shouted, but she didn’t even flinch.

“Stop it! Now!” you tried again.

Still nothing. She was too far gone, lost in her rage. Without thinking, you moved in to pull her off—but before you could, pain exploded across your face, and you found yourself on the ground, disoriented.

The room went silent.

When your vision cleared, you realized, she had hit you.

Vi stood over you, her expression flickering with something almost like regret. “Shit,” she muttered, reaching a hand toward you. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Get the fuck out,” you snapped, cutting her off as you staggered to your feet.

She hesitated, her gaze locking with yours. You made sure she saw every ounce of your anger, your disgust.

“Now,” you commanded, stepping closer.

For once, she didn’t fight back. She just turned and walked.

Days passed, and thankfully, she didn’t come back. Still, every time you stood behind the bar, her face crept into your mind—her cockiny, her sharp eyes, her unbearable attitude. It filled you with rage. You already had too much on your plate; the last thing you needed was to waste energy hating some pink-haired asshole. But despite yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. It wasn’t all bad, you supposed. At least thoughts of her kept you from thinking about Ellie. But replacing heartbreak with anger wasn’t exactly a healthy trade.

It was another calm day, the kind you’d come to appreciate in the wake of the chaos she’d brought. If anything, her outburst had earned you some respect. The regulars gave you a nod, a look, as if standing up to her had proven something. But the peace didn’t last. The bar doors swung open, and the room fell into an all-too-familiar hush. You didn’t even need to look to know who it was. The tension in the air told you everything.

Vi.

Revek appeared at your side almost immediately, his eyes darting toward her. “This gonna be trouble?” he asked, his voice low.

“I’m fine,” you replied, keeping your gaze locked on her as she strode toward you. There was something deliberate in her steps, something… different.

Her eyes met yours from across the room, and you stood your ground.

“I think I made myself clear last time,” you said coolly, though your voice carried that simmering edge of anger you couldn’t quite hide. “You’re not welcome here.”

“I know,” she replied, stopping in front of the bar. Her tone was calm, almost subdued. “I’ll leave. But first, I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes, studying her. There was no cocky smirk, no sarcastic retort. Just… awkwardness.

“I was drunk,” she continued, her voice low. “That guy said something—something that pissed me off. I lost control.” She hesitated, her eyes searching yours. “It’s not an excuse, but… I didn’t mean to hit you. I would never—”

“But you did,” you cut her off sharply, though you could already feel the fight draining out of you. She was being honest. You hated that you could tell, but you could.

“I know.” Her voice softened even more. “I didn’t see you. And I’m sorry. I really am.”

You exhaled, your shoulders dropping slightly as you leaned against the counter. You weren’t ready to forgive her—not entirely. But you were exhausted from carrying so much anger.

“Fine,” you said at last, pouring her the drink she’d ordered last time. Sliding it across the bar, you added, “I appreciate your honesty. I don’t appreciate assholes, though. And you? You were an asshole.”

A flicker of surprise crossed her face as she accepted the drink. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something else. But instead, she downed it in one quick motion, set the glass back on the counter, and walked out without another word.

She started coming back. At first, you thought it was a fluke—a one-time thing. But no. A few days later, she was there again. And again.

Sometimes she was alone, sometimes with a new girl on her arm, but the pattern stayed the same. She’d order a few drinks, stay for a while, and leave without so much as a word in your direction. She’d read your message loud and clear. But what you couldn’t figure out was why. Zaun was filled with bars—plenty of them even filthier than this one. So why keep coming back to this one? Was it defiance? Did she just not care about the fact that you didn’t want her here? Then there were the moments that left you even more confused. The way her gaze would linger,as she was hanging out with some random girl, her eyes flicking over to you when she thought you weren’t looking. It wasn’t often, but it was enough to notice. Enough to keep her lodged firmly in your thoughts.

Vi was a mystery. An infuriating, captivating mystery. And for some reason, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to figure her out. Maybe it was the distraction she provided, pulling you away from the ache of Ellie. Or maybe it was something else. Something about the way she carried herself, the way she owned a room even when she was silent. Whatever it was, she had you hooked—and you hated her for it.

Today was no different. She strolled in like she owned the place, another girl trailing behind her—a new one this time. She made a beeline for the bar and ordered a round of drinks before sliding into a table suspiciously close to where you were working. Maybe you were imagining things, but it felt deliberate. There were plenty of empty tables scattered throughout the room, especially ones better suited for whatever this was supposed to be. An intimate date? That hardly seemed like Vi’s style. The girl with her seemed sweet. Blonde hair with blue highlights that caught the dim lights of the bar, bright eyes, a soft smile. She leaned toward Vi as they talked, her body language screaming interest. But Vi? She sat back, arms draped casually over the chair, her expression distant, detached. It was like she craved the closeness but couldn’t bring herself to let anyone in.

It was… familiar. Too familiar.

You turned back to the counter, your hands working on autopilot as you wiped down the surface. Yet, no matter how much you tried to ignore her, your gaze kept drifting in her direction. And every time it did, you caught her watching you.

You didn’t like it.

Pouring yourself a drink, you told yourself it was just to take the edge off. One drink turned into two, and before long, the alcohol made everything sharper, more noticeable. You were too aware of her—every glance, every quiet laugh, every time her eyes flicked toward you. When it happened again, you decided enough was enough. You locked eyes with her, letting your gaze trail over her features, daring her to look away. She didn’t. At first, she looked confused, but that quickly morphed into something smug—a slow, cocky smirk creeping across her face. She leaned over, whispering something in the blonde’s ear. The girl nodded, and just like that, Vi stood and headed straight for you.

“Hey there,” she said, her voice calm but carrying that familiar edge of arrogance. Her eyes bore into yours, steady, confident.

“Well, look at you,” you quipped, leaning casually against the bar. “Turns out you can talk.”

She smirked. “Can you blame me? You called me an asshole and made it pretty clear you didn’t want me to talk to you.”

“Both of those things are true,” you replied with a dismissive shrug, though the faint trace of a grin played on your lips. You blamed the alcohol.

“So let me get this straight,” she teased. “You don’t want to talk to me, but you want me to talk to you? Maybe even acknowledge you?”

“Oh, I’ve noticed you acknowledging me,” you shot back, your tone dry. “Not with words, though.” Your hand idly wiped at the counter with a cloth, pretending nonchalance.

Vi chuckled, brushing off your jab. “Fair enough. Since you’re so insistent, let me drop the ‘asshole behavior’ for a minute.” She leaned in slightly. “I don’t even know your name.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to meet her halfway. “It’s Y/N,” you said, your voice firm. A beat of silence lingered between you, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, with a small smirk of your own, you added, “Now get back to your date. Don’t keep her waiting.”

You didn’t wait to see her reaction. The sudden surge of emotions made your chest tighten, and you dropped the cloth and glass onto the counter, heading for the backroom.

Intimacy—it wasn’t something you wanted. Not now. Not with her. Even the smallest brush of warmth from someone else felt like an open wound. You were comfortable in the cold, with the pain. Examining Vi had been easy, safe. She was uncertainty and sharp edges, not softness. You closed the door behind you, leaning back against it and exhaling deeply. Maybe one of these days you’d figure out what Vi was really doing to you. But not tonight. Not yet.

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Note from author: It's my first time writing something ever please please please let me know if you liked that! I think that this fic will have 6/8 parts , so there's a lot unfold here. I kinda changed finale of Arcane, because Vi and Caitlyn don't end up together. Also, I have included Ellie as reader's ex girlfriend, so she will have more appearances in future. It would mean world to me if you shared my work (if you liked it of course) and please don't hesitate to message me, ask me questions about it or let me know what are your thoughts! Thank you!

[quin-ns]

Twin Flame (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 11.6K

Summary: you play people just for the fun of it and they’re none the wiser. the only one who knows the real you is your best friend, rafe cameron, who you have the most fun toying with—and the feeling is mutual

Tags: (18+), toxic!rafe, toxic!reader (they match each others freak heavily), manipulative and mean!reader, violence, brief jj x reader, smidge of dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, biting, all that fun stuff and messy drama

A/N: writing toxic!reader was so fun actually. had this set pre/in season 1 in my mind so rafe isn’t fullll psycho yet. this is long ik but the plot was plotting and it’s worth it i swear

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

A lot of people would say Rafe wasn’t a great guy. Probably not even a good one. Hell, not even a decent one. But you didn’t care about any of that because, for some reason, Rafe Cameron was your best friend in the world, and you were his.

You didn’t have an exact reason for it, but everyone knew it was true. Sure, you had a few guesses. It could be because you had been Sarah’s friend first but picked him over her, and he needed that sort of validation. Maybe it was because you weren’t like his other friends, most of which you could only handle in small doses. Maybe it was because the two of you saw eye to eye on a lot of things. You looked at the world the same way as him and it was something neither of you had encountered before each other.

Or maybe it was because, even though people somewhat knew the real him, he was the only one close enough to know the real you, and he liked that.

The highs were high with Rafe for sure, but the lows were low. As much fun as the two of you had together, you would fight like words could cut and you were both going for the kill. It was because you really saw each other that you could exist in such a friendship and still return to one another. You understood the worst of each other in ways no one else could.

Whatever it was that drew him to you and kept him there, you didn’t really care. You were partners in crime so long you didn’t feel the urge to ask, and you were certain he felt the same way.

The ‘crime’ thing was literal today, which was lucky, because today was a good day between the two of you.

You were just coming off of an argument that led you to ignore him for two whole days. Then he showed up at your house with a brand new dress and an invite to a party. You’d already been invited to the same party, but the dress was a cute little black piece that was perfect for you.

Rafe was the only one of your friends who regularly bought you things, and even though you could afford them for yourself, you appreciated the thought and effort. And just like that, you accepted the bribe and forgave him. You took your time to get ready and he kept you company, catching up on the last two days as if nothing had happened. You joined him in his drug dealer, Barry’s, trailer as he bought supplies for the party.

You watched Rafe as he drove away from Barry’s with his jaw clenched. He must’ve felt you watching because it didn’t take him long to clue you in on why his mood had suddenly gone sour.

“I should’ve punched him,” Rafe said pointedly, throwing you a glance.

“He sells you coke, so suck it up,” you advised, fighting off a smirk as Rafe’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t care so I don’t see why it bothers you so much.”

Of course you got why it bothered him. Most of the time you didn’t bother to pretend around him the way you did in front of everyone else. He could easily decipher your lies and the fakeness in your tone when no one else could so why bother?

This time you were only pretending for your own amusement because Rafe was far too distracted by your interaction with Barry to really pay attention. You could see how much he regretted not forcing you to wait in the car.

It wasn’t even that bad. Barry whistled when you walked in behind Rafe, watching your hands tug down the edges of your little black dress as you entered his trailer.

“Where’d you find her and how do I get one?” Barry had said to him under his breath, although he had a hard time with volume control given that you heard clearly.

The comment set Rafe on edge. He was quick to exchange the money for drugs and hustle you out of the trailer and back into his truck, his hand on your shoulder guiding you the entire time.

“You don’t see why him saying some shit like that would bother me?” Rafe asked with a condescending tone to his voice, fully looking over at you as his truck rolled up to a red light.

Rafe wasn’t as complicated as you once thought he was. You learned his tells. The way he said it alone was enough, but the slight narrowness of his eyes told you he could go either way.

On one hand, you could push his buttons. It was easy for you to get the straight line of his mouth to turn to a frown and set him off. Sometimes it was amusing, watching him get angry. It was what you had done a couple days ago, but when he got angry he could get mean, and that led to the two day silent treatment. Tonight you were on your way to a party and that wasn’t the energy you were going for.

So there was the other hand, where you could reel him back in and get him to calm down before it was too late. Something like a sweet smile and an apology or a joke to lighten the mood would work on him.

You went with the latter given you had nothing to apologize for this time.

“Please, you’d trade me for five dollars if you really need the money,” you teased.

He hesitated for a second, like he was making up his mind. You gave him a little smile and watched Rafe’s shoulders untense. The light turned green and he faced forward again, but you could still see a similar expression appear on his face.

“Ten bucks at least, give me a little credit,” he threw back. “Twenty if I’m feeling sentimental.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “As if you ever feel sentimental.”

And just like that he was back to normal. You had the power to do that. It wasn’t a power just anyone had, controlling Rafe. Maybe “controlling” sounded a bit heavy-handed, but what else would you call it?

A few different people had told you that Rafe only seemed truly happy around you, and you figured that was true. Not many people could make him smile just because.

Conversation picked back up again, the two of you going back and forth until you were laughing like crazy. No one else had the privilege to see either of you like this, both you and Rafe grinning and rambling on.

You knew Rafe was in a better mood than before because he was speeding. He usually drove pretty fast, but it was always at a different level whenever he was really happy, or really pissed.

The hit of coke you each did at the next red light didn’t slow him down at all.

He had great speakers in his truck so blasting music was an elevated experience, and rolling the window down to let the wind whip through your hair only made it better.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe said in rapid succession, swatting at your thigh. You sat up with a start, not realizing you closed your eyes or that you had sunken into your seat. He pointed out the windshield at something up ahead, off to the side of the road. You doubted he’d noticed your brief zone-out. “You see that?”

You leaned forward and peered out the window, squinting to try and make out the figure clearly in the dark. “I think it’s a person,” you said. The closer you got, the more his headlights lit up the scene. “On a motorbike.”

“I think it’s JJ,” Rafe guessed. “He drives one of those, doesn’t he?”

You shrugged. You knew JJ—and his friends—but it wasn’t like you were friends. You only knew him because everyone in Kildare knew everyone. You didn’t concern yourself with Pogues the way Rafe did. While he would seek certain ones out to harass, you didn’t bother with anything to do with the Cut unless it directly affected you, which it hardly ever did.

That being said, when the person on the bike looked over his shoulder, it was clearly JJ. He wasn’t even wearing a helmet.

Your body was thrown as Rafe sharply jerked the wheel. Tires screeched against the pavement as the truck swerved up behind JJ as if Rafe were about to totally take him out. His truck was huge, it would be easy. Your gasp turned to a cackle as he yanked the wheel back the other way. You lunged across the truck and slammed your hand down on the horn, blaring it as Rafe let the truck swerve again.

Rafe let out a vicious laugh when JJ twisted the bike too fast in an attempt to avoid the truck and wiped out. In the side mirrors you saw he had veered into the grass. You guessed he’d skidded on the road first. You didn’t look back to see if he stood up, you were too busy watching Rafe with glee, a wicked smile plastered on your own face as he floored it down the street.

You’d been to Topper’s house on more than one occasion, and it was a party, so it wasn’t as if you were going to knock. You tugged at the skirt of your dress then barged inside, Rafe right at your back. Loud music, overlapping voices, and the smell of beer and weed filled your senses. Already energized, you moved through the crowded space with ease. You were in your element. People even parted to make way for you, but that could’ve been a perk of having Rafe looking like your bodyguard.

Rafe was here on business, not to get drunk and dance—your two favorite things about a party—but you didn’t mind sitting by his side on Topper’s couch as he offered a bump for free to draw people in and then negotiated a price for a line. The two of you usually snorted a quarter (sometimes half) of however much coke he bought, but the rest he used to try and make his money back.

Most people were uninteresting to you, but you liked to talk to them anyways. It reminded you how unimpressive everyone else your age was, which was an ego boost for sure—although, ego certainly wasn’t something you lacked to begin with.

Curiosity led you to get distracted sometimes. When you left Rafe’s side to get a drink from the kitchen you didn’t mean to be gone for long, but some guy with black hair in a crew cut and beer breath started challenging you to go against him in cup pong. You guessed he was someone’s relative or new in town because you didn’t recognize him. He boasted how he was the best—the current champion of the kitchen—and no one wanted to play against him anymore. He gave you this stupid cocky smile—not the kind of hot-but-aggravating cocky smile Rafe got when he was right about something—but the kind that made you want to ruin his life.

That would take too long, and it was energy you didn’t want to waste on him, so you played instead. You knew kicking his ass would be satisfying before you even took your first turn, and after, you got to confirm that it was. Ruining his winning streak would be enough.

Rafe taught you to play a few years ago and you only got better, but you weren’t going to thank him or anything. At this point you could probably beat him.

You left Crew Cut in the kitchen, defeated, and stumbled back to the living room. He got a few shots in so you had had a bit to drink, but you were still fully capable. Rafe would probably be annoyed at you for being gone so long, but you figured you could bat your lashes and apologize and he’d forgive you. And if not you’d blame it on Crew Cut for keeping you hostage playing cup pong and Rafe would get his knuckles bloody. Either way, you were sitting pretty.

Except, when you spotted him on the couch, you immediately saw that no, you weren’t. Spite flared in your gut at the sight of Rafe talking to some girl. She had stubby legs sticking out of a short white dress and brown hair that might’ve been pretty if it suited her. And if she brushed it properly. You wracked your memory to put a name to the face, and by the time you had stomped your way over to them, you remembered.

You forced a grin. “Hey, Bella.”

She looked up at you and gave you a smile that felt a little too sweet. “It’s Bethany,” she corrected. Eh, you were close enough. “And hey, Y/N. I didn’t know you were here.”

You wanted to glare at her, to figure out if that was some kind of insult, but you weren’t going to let her get to you that easy.

“Well, I am, and I was sitting there, so.” You shrugged, making the message so get up clear.

“Relax,” Rafe chimed in. Your eyes found him and you knew he could see past your mask. “You did get up.”

You tilted your head. There was a sourness to his voice that only you seemed to pick up on. You flicked your eyes to Bethany, who had this newly satisfied expression on her average face, then back to Rafe.

“Yeah, and it’s not like you own the couch, so,” Bethany commented, emboldened by what she assumed was Rafe backing her up. But no, it wasn’t that. He was upset, you could tell, and he was using her to bother you.

“I just went to the kitchen to get a drink,” you explained carefully.

“You were gone for a while.” Rafe's voice was too even, too controlled.

For someone who was just your best friend, Rafe was more possessive over you than any boyfriend you’d ever had. It went both ways. He was yours just as much as you were his, and apparently Bethany hadn’t gotten the memo.

“You move your feet, you lose your seat,” Bethany piped up with this obnoxious sing-song tone. “Sorry.”

You cringed at the phrase and this time let your disgust show. “What are you, four? Grow up.”

She scoffed and looked at Rafe, seeking some kind of defense, but when he finally took his eyes off you it wasn’t to look at her. His focus fell to something past you. His jaw clenched.

“Rafe,” Bethany barked at him, demanding attention. “Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?”

You almost laughed. Who did she think she was? Rafe’s priority list was short, but it was clear who was at the top and who wasn’t even on it.

“If you went to the kitchen for a drink then where is it?”

“I drank it,” you snarked.

Rafe made a noise that said he didn’t believe you. Warmth seeped into the skin on the back of your thigh just above your knee as Rafe’s hand made contact. His thumb rubbed back and forth, but neither of you acknowledged it. You got an inkling, though, and looked over your shoulder. Sure enough, you spotted Crew Cut. He was right in Rafe’s eyeline and yep, he smiled at you. What a moron.

Rafe must’ve seen the two of you playing cup pong. You were surprised by that. Not that he’d seen, but that he had gone back to sit down instead of making his presence known sooner. You looked back at Bethany, smirking with the knowledge that you’d been right all along. He thought he could make you jealous.

Bethany noticed his hand placement, but it wasn’t like Rafe was trying to hide it. She scoffed and stood, finally understanding her place.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” Upright she wasn’t as short as you thought, but still shorter than you, even in her heels. “So are you,” she spat at you, squaring her shoulders as if she was making some grand stand against you. “You deserve each other.”

This time you did laugh. Right in her face. How could you not?

“Calm down, you Shih Tzu.” Bethany made a sound of offense. “Go whine at someone else’s feet,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

The suddenness of the impact almost knocked you back. She was tiny so it wasn’t like your head was spinning from the punch. It more so caught you off guard than anything else. You did have to give her a bit of credit for that. Your nose throbbed as you brought your head back forward.

Bethany’s face was scrunched up and tomato red. The sight amused you, even as blood began to trickle from your nostrils.

“I don’t know why anyone ever said you were nice,” she sneered. If she wasn’t such an annoying little bitch you might’ve been impressed. “You wanna say anything else?

That was true, you were the nice one. That’s what made you and Rafe such a fascinating duo to the people who either knew or knew of you.

Of course, their assumptions weren’t true, but they didn’t need to know that. You didn’t have a real reason to pretend, you just did. But sometimes you didn’t bother—certain people on special occasions got the chance to meet the real Y/N.

A million lines crossed your mind from snarky remarks to scathing insults. Oh yeah, you had plenty to say.

Instead you inhaled deeply, sucking the blood back through your nose. It trickled back down your throat and once it mixed with enough saliva you spat it right in Bethany’s face. Gross, yes, but effective.

Bethany screamed. That garnered an audience. The spitty, bloody mess dripped from her face down the front of her dress. Her white dress. You smiled, not caring that blood caked your teeth. You could taste it. Who wore a white dress to a party, anyway?

Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Rafe. He’d already let his hand fall from your body. The expression on his face was a mix between annoyance from before and current amusement.

Bethany lunged at you, hands out like she was going to try and scratch you or something. She didn’t get a chance because some other girl, who you assumed must’ve been a friend, came up behind her and pulled her back. Bethany made a noise of frustration as her friend dragged her away, but she let the other girl do it anyway.

“Hey! Are you okay?” A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned. Crew Cut had wide eyes, likely having witnessed the scene.

You became aware of all the people staring at you in that moment and internally sighed.

You sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, then flinched on purpose.

“Ow,” you whined. His hands rested on both of your arms as he encouraged you to look at him. “I think it’s broken,” you whimpered loud enough for surrounding people to hear. Sounds of pity filled in around you and people started to approach. Clearly they’d all only witnessed the second half of your interaction with Bethany, which really worked in your favor.

“That girl is crazy,” some girl nearby said. “You didn’t even do anything.”

“Do you need a doctor?” someone else asked.

Tears filled your eyes. “I think so,” you croaked out to no one in particular.

A hand latched onto your bicep and pulled you away from Crew Cut and the small crowd you’d acquired.

“I’ve got her,” Rafe said firmly as he held you at his side. People started to mutter. “Come on, you’ll be okay.”

The way he said it told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Rafe knew how much you liked being the center of attention.

It didn’t stop you from milking it while you could.

“It’s not okay,” you complained. “She hit me! You saw her, Rafe!”

He leaned down to your ear, his pace quickening. “I’m not gonna fall for your shit so drop it,” he hissed.

“I don’t know if I need to go to the hospital,” you said loudly, covering for him. You put an extra touch of gratefulness to your voice. “But if you think I need to then we’ll go.”

You sniffled again, gingerly touching your nose as you walked alongside him, absorbing all the worried and supportive comments you got on your way.

They were all so busy staring at you that you doubted they could see how pissed Rafe was. Mission accomplished. He had a hard time controlling his face. They probably didn’t notice the other injury you were sustaining, either, as Rafe dug his fingers into the flesh of your arm, gripping tight as he dragged you out the door.

Rafe slowed down once you were out of the house, but still held your arm. All the action was inside so he spoke freely.

“Is your nose actually broken?”

You shook your head confidently, dropping the act from inside. “Hurts a little but it’s fine. She didn’t hit that hard, weak arms I’m guessing. Plus I always got nose bleeds easily as a kid so it looks worse than it is.”

The ease in which you explained made Rafe shake his head. You wiped your teary eyes with the back of your hand to clear up your vision as Rafe led the both of you to his truck.

“Are those even real?” he questioned, but the snark in his voice said he already knew the answer.

“No.”

If he was in a good mood, Rafe would’ve been impressed. But, he was in a bad mood, so you were faced with annoyance and anger instead.

“You’re so screwed up.”

You scoffed. “Takes one to know one,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear. “Ow!” you shrieked as Rafe applied pressure, squeezing down on your arm. “Why are you so mad at me?”

“Why do you think you can lie to me?” he snapped back.

You yanked yourself free from his hold. You’d arrived at the truck without realizing. Likely the reason he let you separate yourself—you’d end up going with him anyway.

“I told you the truth, my nose is fine. Yeah, I was faking for attention, who the fuck cares?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “That bitch still hit me. I should get a restraining order.” Rafe rolled his eyes at the dramatic yet empty threat.

Okay, so you weren’t actually going to do that, but he could show a little sympathy, couldn’t he?

“Thanks for standing back and doing nothing, by the way,” you added when he didn’t reply right away.

That provoked a reaction you wanted. Rafe took a step forward. “I’m talking about you disappearing.” Oh, yeah. “You say you’re going to get a drink, then you’re gone forever and so like a good friend I go to find you. To make sure you're okay. And then what do I see?” Rafe’s voice continued to rise with each word. “You, hanging out with some asshole!”

“What about you?” you shot back. “I go back to you and some random girl is sitting in my spot, and then you act like you can’t be bothered to back me up when she goes psycho!”

“Are you pissed because she was in your spot or jealous because she was next to me?”

“Jealous? Me?” A scoff escaped you at the accusation. Was he insane? “You have a mental breakdown because I play one dumb drinking game with a guy I don’t even care enough to learn the name of but sure, Rafe, I’m the jealous one.”

“I’m not the one who was picking fights,” he reminded, stepping closer.

“Yeah, well, she was a bitch.”

Rafe was so close he could probably hear your heart skip a beat. “So are you.”

The slap of your hand against his cheek echoed through the night air.

Your mouth fell open a little, anger melting into shock. You’d never hit Rafe before, but he was getting in your face and being a dick and you just really had to urge to. It felt long overdue, honestly. Sure, you could argue just as ruthlessly as he could, but he’d only ever gotten physical with you, not the other way around. It was never hitting, never, ever hitting, but this wouldn’t be the first time he left bruises on your arm.

The second you met him on his level, he took it further.

The air was knocked from your lungs when your chest hit the passenger door of his truck. Rafe pressed himself against your back, keeping you trapped as he heaved into your ear, “Now what made you think that would be smart?”

“Only one of us is smart and it’s definitely not you.” The retort was instinctual. Your quick replies amused Rafe most of the time, but that wasn’t the case at the moment.

“You’re so mean tonight,” he said, voice like a warning. “First you abandon me, then you make a scene, and now you’re causing problems again. I sold the rest of the coke but I might have a bump left.” God, he could be so patronizing. It was even more irritating, which was exactly what he was going for when he added, “I think you need to lighten up.”

“Fuck you,” you growled out, squirming against his hold. This was unknown territory. “Stop being a dick and let me go. This isn’t funny.”

He kept you pinned with his body, it didn’t matter that you tried to push yourself back with your palms against the car, he was solid. When his hands rose to pin each of your wrists to the window you were left completely at his mercy.

Rafe leaned down a little, his lips by your ear. Your whole body shuddered at the tickle of his breath as he whispered, “I’m not trying to be funny.” Your teeth clenched. “Are you going to behave yourself so we can go or do I need to wait? I’ve got all night.”

There was a shakiness that tangled itself into his last few words. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated when Rafe adjusted his stance.

You didn’t let him see the smirk that crossed your face. He was aroused, you could feel him pressing against you. You wanted to say something so bad because it was obvious it was for you. Something witty, something mean, something flirty—just something. But instead you closed your mouth and let your body do the talking.

You rocked your hips back slightly. Enough to let him know you felt it, but not enough to create friction. Rafe reacted how you thought he might. His hands around your wrists tightened as he nudged himself closer to you. He let out a grunt as his cock pressed more against your ass.

Your entire demeanor shifted the second you understood you had the upper hand.

“Rafe,” you said, making your voice sound all breathless. You paired the gasp of his name with rolling your hips back shamelessly.

Rafe grunted in your ear. His hips shoved forward, almost out of his control. Heat flooded your body at the feel of him. The only barrier was your clothes and those could be easily removed.

You rolled your hips again with a giggle.

“You think you’re funny?” he growled into your ear.

You nearly choked on your own tongue. You’d always found Rafe attractive but this whole scenario just put it on another level. You pressed your thighs together to control yourself, but a shaky breath managed to escape. You were having a hard time deciphering what was authentic and what was just for fun.

One of his hands released your wrist in favor of resting around your neck. Not quite squeezing, just holding. The pressure was just enough to let you know it was there and now you were really losing your grip on this whole thing. You shivered against him, your body going rogue. So much for being in control.

Rafe leaned in even closer, his lips pressed right next to your ear as he warned, “if you don’t stop that I’m gonna have to fuck you right here.”

You swallowed hard. No words came to mind.

You and Rafe had never crossed the line in all your years of friendship, which surprised a lot of people. Sometimes you wondered about it, like now. How could you not? He was hot and so were you, and you spent nearly all your time together. Rafe understood you even when it came back to bite you. There was something about him not just toeing the line but stepping fully over it with those words that thrilled you.

You could give in. You wanted to give in because honestly the fact that you never even kissed him, let alone fucked him, was confusing to you now. It would only add another layer to the messy thing you called your friendship, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Not with his hand on your neck and his lips at your ear and his cock throbbing against you.

A wicked idea appeared in your head. One fueled by pettiness and your desire for control that you’d forgotten for a moment, but not forever.

Rafe had you caged but not fully trapped. You’d stopped fighting against him, so it wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been to twist your way free from his hold.

“Then let’s go,” you said, not facing him because you’d definitely break if you did.

You yanked open the passenger door and climbed into the truck. Once it shut you looked out the window and found him staring back. Confused, frustrated, and stunned. You smirked to yourself.

Rafe got it together and crossed to the driver's side. He got in without a word. His jaw was clenched too tight. His hand fell to his lap, not even hiding the fact that he was adjusting himself before starting up the truck.

The drive was so quiet it made you want to laugh. Rafe kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye, like he wasn’t sure whether to keep ignoring you or pounce on you. That was just the way you wanted it for now. Now that you knew you were something he wanted, you couldn’t make things easy for him.

You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. Knowing you’d worked him up like this. It was his turn to suffer a little. Serves him right for earlier. You did get punched after all and he didn’t defend you the way he should’ve.

When he stopped in front of your house all you got was a sharp, “Goodnight.”

“Dream about me,” you said before you slid out and shut the truck door.

Even though you had to ice your nose, you went to bed with a smile on your face that night. Rafe probably went home and took matters into his own hands, pun intended, and you’d bet anything you were on his mind while he did.

You saw him the very next day at the country club. You caught a ride with Topper for the simple reason you knew it would get under Rafe’s skin that you didn’t ask him by default like usual.

Of course you were right. He had a certain intensity to him when he arrived at your usual table and found you and Topper too wrapped up in conversation to notice him. You did notice him, though. You just didn’t show it.

“Hey, man,” Topper greeted him finally, still chuckling from something you had said. You turned your head to acknowledge Rafe but didn’t say a word.

Usually, Rafe would sit across from you. It just made the most sense since the two of you would often get caught up in your own conversations. Topper had even opted for a seat next to the one right across from you because of this.

Instead of taking his usual spot, Rafe dragged out the chair right beside you and sat down. He didn’t acknowledge you either. Topper’s eyes flicked between the two of you, sensing something but not willing to comment on it aloud.

So, he was still pissed about yesterday. Not that it surprised you or anything. Just a very obvious observation.

Soon enough Kelce showed and it made it easier to not comment on what was going on between you and Rafe.

“How’s your nose?” Kelce asked. He ended up across from you since Rafe left that seat open.

You pressed your fingers gingerly to the bridge. “It’s a little sore but I’m okay.”

“Why’d she even hit you?” Kelce wondered.

“Y/N didn’t do anything,” Topper jumped in to defend you. Kelce didn’t necessarily have an accusing tone to his voice, but the question was enough to garner backup. “That chick was crazy.”

You fought to keep the smugness out of your smile. Most boys were easy—like Topper. When he picked you up and asked how you were feeling, you sniffled and told him you didn’t understand what happened. He told you it wasn’t your fault. Even though he’d been nowhere nearby when it happened, he sure sounded confident.

Kelce chuckled a bit. “I heard you spit blood in her face. That’s pretty wicked, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

These two were more Rafe’s friends than your own, but you still saw them a decent amount. Enough that you had infiltrated their little trio—but you weren’t ’one of the guys’. You found girls who went out of their way to act like that annoying. You got along fine with each of them, but they weren’t the type of friends you’d hang out with without Rafe around.

Speaking of Rafe, he’d been pretty quiet since he arrived. It was the kind of quiet he got when he was agitated, but hadn’t quite reached that tipping point for today.

Just when you thought he’d be some kind of mute the rest of lunch, he made a sort of scoffing noise after Kelce’s comment.

“Well, then you don’t know her,” Rafe replied over the brim of his glass before taking a drink.

You shot him a glare. God, he was petty.

You looked at Topper and Kelce and forced a giggle. A really girly one for extra measure.

“Someone’s grumpy today,” you said in a loud whisper. The two guys smirked to themselves when you dramatically turned to Rafe. “What’s wrong? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You faked a pout when you really wanted to grin. “Any weird dreams?”

Rafe faced you. He remembered your comment. One of your favorite pastimes was screwing with him just because you could.

“I slept just fine,” Rafe answered smoothly. He tilted his head a little. You narrowed your eyes. There was a look of mischief in his. “What about you?”

You nearly jumped when his hand landed on your bare thigh. The seats at the table were close enough he didn’t have to noticeably shift to make contact. Rafe raised his brows, letting his fingers kneed into your supple skin. Maybe you should’ve worn pants.

You bit your lip before turning it to a smile. “Same here.”

“Nothing keeping you up at night?” Rafe wondered less than innocently.

You shook your head. “Nope.”

He hummed. His hand slid further up your leg. “Nothing worth thinking about?”

So badly you wanted to say something snarky like, “just because you went home and got off to the thought of me doesn’t mean I returned the favor,” but that seemed like a bit much with Topper and Kelce right across the table. They didn’t get to know how clever you could be.

Speaking of the other boys, you had almost forgotten about them during your stare-down with Rafe.

“Are you guys going to the kegger at the Boneyard tonight?” Topper wondered, breaking the tension you and Rafe had created.

Rafe looked away first. “It’s gonna be overrun with Pogues,” he dismissed.

Just because of that you said, “I’m going.” Rafe threw you a glance. “What? The Boneyard is like… middle ground. There’s peace and there’s free alcohol.”

The second part was true, but the first? It depended on the night and what drama was currently going on. Some nights everyone just hung out and got drunk and had fun, and other nights there were fights that broke out. It was really just a toss of the coin.

“If you don’t go I won’t have a ride,” you told Rafe, but before he could open his mouth, you cheerfully turned to Topper. “If you’re going do you think you could give me a ride? This morning was fun, we could keep the karoke going.”

Topper blushed a little while you beamed at him. You’d gotten him to sing along to some pop songs that played on the radio—not exactly ‘karaoke’ but it had the intended effect.

No sooner than you asked was Rafe saying, “I’m going.” There was a bite to his tone that had Topper looking a little lost. Rafe’s fingertips pressed into your skin. “I didn’t say I wasn’t. I’ll give you a ride, it’s no problem.”

It was a problem, that was the point.

“Hello, gentlemen!” A waitress appeared with a big smile and too much pep in her step. You gave her a look that had her swallowing. “And lady. What can I get for you all?”

Rafe flashed her that stupid charming smile of his. The one he gave when he wanted something.

You wanted to gag when he started flirting with her, but you kept it in. It was embarrassing, honestly, for him. You wanted to smack him and tell him to stop making a fool of himself, and then you wanted to do the same to the waitress when she let out a snorty little laugh. Whatever he said wasn’t that funny, and laughing wasn’t going to get her a bigger tip.

While he was flirting and you were seething, Rafe’s hand stayed on your thigh. He rubbed little circles with his thumb and it told you where his mind really was.

When the waitress disappeared, you unclenched your jaw, which you hadn’t realized you’d done, but you didn’t speak right away. Rafe started a conversation with the guys and all you did for now was listen.

Rafe slid his hand further up, talking to them as if his fingers weren’t creeping towards your center. A thrill shot through you at the idea because all this with Rafe was new territory. The warmth in your face and your core told you to let him continue just to see what would happen—then your ego, your desire to win, took over.

You crossed your legs, trapping his hand. Sure, he couldn’t pull it away, but he also couldn’t move it closer. You chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when Rafe’s voice faltered while talking.

“You good?” you asked casually, as if you’d been up to nothing but listening.

Rafe recovered quickly. He flexed his hand a little and you squeezed it between your thighs. If he really wanted to he could probably yank himself free, but he didn’t try. He also couldn’t get any closer towards his goal. He let you have your minor win, which in all honesty it wasn’t that much of a loss to him so he could live with it, but at least you had some bit of control again.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. You shrugged, and then he went on talking again.

When the waitress returned he hardly acknowledged her, which she looked a little miffed by, but he couldn't be bothered to care about her.

This was more of a draw when it came down to it, but you could live with that—for now.

You wore your lucky pink bikini with a pair of jeans shorts over it for the kegger.

True to his word Rafe picked you up and the two of you rode together to the Boneyard. Conversation was light, both of you playing defense, not wanting to show your hand. For as much as he was eyeing you he didn’t make a move. The topics were unimportant, so much so you had already forgotten what you’d said by the time you got to the beach.

As you walked towards the shore with Rafe at your side, you admitted to yourself you didn’t exactly have a game plan. You were determined to win this little feud, but how to do that? You didn’t have that worked out. You were still bitter about the fact he hadn’t defended you, and now the whole thing with the waitress was sitting on top of that. You had to get him back and get him good—something that would make him never forget who had the power between the two of you.

And if it scared him enough to make him never flirt with another girl again? Well, you wouldn’t be opposed to hearing him out if he had any ideas for alternatives.

You could see yourself being with Rafe. You really could. Not the way that most girls could, not just because he was handsome, and rich, and charming if he put in the effort. All those things were definitely a plus, but they didn’t understand him the way you did, and he’d never bother to understand them the way he understood you.

Even if your whole night was dedicated to winning against him, when it came down to it, you were equals. That’s what made him such a challenge, and the challenge is what made him so exciting. It was why you could drive each other to the brink of insanity one night and then hang out and laugh together the next.

The thought of a truce entered your mind. Rafe’s arm kept brushing against yours as the two of you joined the party. He looked good in the shirt he’d picked out, and you noticed he was wearing the cologne you liked. He’d been at your house right on time and had gotten out to open the passenger side door for you.

“Rafe?” you said, but evidently not loud enough.

Before you could continue he said, “I’ll be back,” and disappeared off towards the keg without a further word. Not even a glance back.

You shut your mouth and frowned. Would he even be back? You let out a huff.

It didn’t matter, you weren’t going to stand around waiting for him. You couldn’t let him think that was something he could just do. Make you wait around for him. What a dick. You felt like an idiot for even letting the word ‘truce’ enter your mind.

You looked around a little aimlessly. You weren’t about to go join Rafe and your other friends—you weren’t some follower. Your eyes wandered the scattered crowds until they landed on someone that brought a grin to your face.

Go big or go home.

He was standing practically by himself at the least populated keg. You smiled to yourself as you watched the blond fill his red solo cup with beer, chug it, then immediately refill it without so much as setting down the hose.

“Hey,” you said once you’d reached speaking distance. “Don’t you usually have a group of friends you hang with? They didn’t abandon you, did they?”

JJ looked a little surprised at your presence, but when your words registered he chuckled.

“If you wanna get technical then I abandoned them,” he replied coolly.

He nodded his head towards the water and sure enough, John B and Pope were standing in a group talking. No sign of your sort of ex friend, Kiara. You weren’t besties with her the way she and Sarah had been, but you also didn’t turn around and hate on her the way Sarah had. Things had always been a little off with you and the oldest Cameron girl ever since you and Rafe became the duo that you were, so her opinion wasn’t all that defining to you the way it was to others, so Kie wasn’t so bad in your books, but you weren’t still hanging with her either. You hardly thought of her at all to tell the truth.

“What about you?” JJ raised a brow.

“All alone tonight I guess.” You sighed. JJ didn’t say anything for a moment, regarding you. You cast your eyes down to his leg and gasped. “That looks awful! Are you okay?”

There was a huge scrape on his knee with some bruising around it. You knew exactly what, well who had caused it.

JJ didn’t need to know you were in the passenger seat, or that you hadn’t given him a second thought until now.

You looked at his right arm. Gently you reached out to grab it, avoiding the freshly damaged skin. He looked taken aback, likely not expecting the softness or concern from you.

“JJ…” you continued sympathetically, tenderly brushing over the area next to the injury. “What happened?”

His cup crinkled in his fist as his body tensed. He pulled his arm from your grasp and you frowned at him. He took a sip from his drink, watching you over the rim of his cup.

He lowered it after a long drink. “Got ran off the road by that asshole you hang out with,” he finally replied, casting his eyes away.

You shook your head shamefully. “Rafe is an asshole,” you said. There was nothing disingenuous about those words at least.

JJ wasn’t sure whether to frown or laugh.

“Have you and I ever had a full conversation before?”

You smiled at the way he vocalized the first thought that came to his brain. You shook your head.

“Not a full one I don’t think. Definitely not one on one.” You paused. “We could change that, though.”

JJ’s demeanor shifted, relaxing a bit. As if it were some kind of test, he refilled his solo cup to the brim, then extended it out to you.

You weren’t one to fail a test. You accepted it with a smile and took a gulp. JJ was grinning by the time you finished with a noise of satisfaction.

“Alright, maybe I didn’t have you figured out after all,” JJ decided, raising his hands in a little surrender like you’d caught him.

“Guess not,” you agreed.

You found yourself sitting across from him right in the sand. It hadn’t bothered him so you didn’t let it seem like it bothered you. It was easier said than done with the little grains digging in and you knew they’d be stuck to you all night, but you weren’t going to start seeming like the kind of girl who complained.

JJ was fun and carefree, so you were fun and carefree. You tapped into that side of yourself and amplified it. You tried to keep some reality in whatever performance you were putting on.

“You shouldn’t itch that,” you warned. JJ had scratched at the scab on his forearm yet again. “It’ll scar worse if you irritate it.”

“I know how scars work, thanks, doc.” It was sarcastic but it wasn’t mean, which threw you off. “It’s just annoying.” He extended his leg and looked down at it. “And definitely fucked for a few weeks. Looks worse than it is, though.”

“It’s not so bad,” you offered. “And if you don’t scratch I’m sure it’ll heal just fine.” A playful smirk wandered onto your lips. “But I think it makes you look kinda tough, y’know?”

“Tough, huh?”

“I mean, not that you need it or anything.” The shy laugh that left you sounded so natural. God, you were good. “Sorry, that was weird. I just—it’ll heal, but until it does, don't worry about how it looks, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I wasn’t, but thanks.” JJ was smiling, clearly relishing in his perceived victory of managing to fluster you in so few words. “I don’t get how a sweet girl like you can hang out with a guy like Rafe.”

If only he knew.

You swallowed and shrugged. You turned your eyes down. “I don’t know either, sometimes.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” JJ said. He moved then. You heard him. By the time you looked up, the blond was sitting by your side. He gave you a lopsided smile. “That’s nothing against you, it’s just…”

“Rafe’s an asshole?” you supplied. “We already established that, remember?” You let your voice waver just enough that JJ felt a little guilty, but also have enough humor that he knew he could fix it.

“You’re a great girl, and I’m guessing you know how I feel about Kooks. So I’m I’m not saying that lightly, alright?” JJ began playfully. You met his eyes and smiled softly. “Why do you put up with him?”

He wanted to save you. How funny.

“I… I don’t want to talk about Rafe. I wanna keep talking about you. What have you been up to this summer?”

That got him talking again. It was easier that way. You could just react; smile, nod along, make little noises or mutter a few words.

He was in the middle of yet another surfing story from the other week when you put your head on his shoulder. JJ didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you.

If Rafe could see you now.

It’s not that you cared where he was, or what he was doing, or who he was doing it with, but you knew he’d care what you were up to. He’d care when he found out only after the fact where you were directing your night with JJ, one of the good for nothing Pogues that he loathed.

What would he say when he found out you invited JJ Maybank into your bed when all he got was a hand on your thigh for a few minutes under a table? That would show him.

Actually, more than that, it would drive him crazy. Letting you know he wanted you, and then continuing to play games was probably the stupidest thing Rafe Cameron could’ve ever done. If it was a game you were going to win.

Who cared if it sent him over the edge? You sure didn’t.

A gust of ocean air came at the right time. You shivered dramatically and JJ frowned at you, pausing mid sentence to ask if you had a jacket. He didn’t have one to offer. That worked out just fine for you because you had an offer of your own. One you were certain he wasn’t going to turn down.

“Actually, would you mind giving me a ride back to my place? My friend kind of ditched me,” you asked politely. JJ, ever the gentleman, masked his disappointment and agreed. He got to his feet and offered a hand. “And if you want, you could stay and, I don’t know, hang out…”

JJ brows rose. “Hang out?” he parroted back to you.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yeah. Hang out.” You brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. A grin spread across his face. “That cool with you?”

“Lead the way,” he encouraged, energy quickly returning.

You reached for his hand and he let you take it.

“You’re driving, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll lead the way.”

You laughed with him, giving his hand a little squeeze.

To be fair, JJ was very attractive. And he was not so bad to talk to. He didn’t even give you shit for being a Kook, which you had expected he would. He’d only commented on your friendship with Rafe but you’d played into that well. You’d enjoyed yourself with him. On another occasion if he had approached you, you’d probably indulge him at least for a while. Maybe even sleep with him like you were planning to now. You’d heard the rumors about him and so you were pretty confident you’d have fun.

Although, the real fun would start after, when you got to throw it in Rafe’s face and watch him lose it.

There was only one problem with your plan. Rafe spotted you before you could leave.

“Y/N!” Rafe called. You turned and so did JJ. JJ clutched your hand tighter as Rafe approached. If looks could kill, you and JJ would both be dead. You smirked to yourself. You couldn’t help it. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Back off, Rafe.” JJ was surprised but he still managed to sound threatening. He probably didn’t think Rafe was even here since you’d failed to mention it. “You don’t own her.”

Poor, sweet, dumb, JJ.

Any other disagreement, any other issue, Rafe might’ve gone along with the back and forth for a minute. Not when it came to you.

JJ had no time to dodge before Rafe was slamming his fist into his face. You grit your teeth. Your nose twitched. Now that was a real punch. Rafe quickly followed up with another right to JJ’s stomach.

JJ fell to the ground with a grunt. You managed to drop his hand just in time. Rafe was on top of JJ in an instant, pummeling him. It was dark, but you could smell blood mixing with the scent of the sea. The sound of Rafe’s fists cracked against JJ’s face told you there’d be bruises.

JJ managed to get out from beneath him, but Rafe wasn’t about to back off. It became an all out brawl. Over you, of all things. Wasn’t that romantic? You giggled to yourself when you had to step back because JJ threw Rafe off of him. You watched with shallow, excited breaths when Rafe got back to his feet and charged.

“Hey!” someone screamed from a distance. You didn’t recognize the voice, but when you turned your head, you saw a group of partygoers approaching. “Knock it off!”

You rolled your eyes. You cleared your throat. The group was getting closer so you let loose.

“Guys! Stop it, please!” you shrieked, as if you had been begging this entire time. “Stop!”

A hand landed on your shoulder.

“Stand back, Y/N,” Topper said, blocking you with his body.

“They won’t stop,” you cried pathetically. “Someone is going to get seriously hurt!”

Topper registered your concern and then took it upon himself to intervene. John B joined him. He’d come out of nowhere. The group that had gathered around the fight had grown within seconds. Some were yelling at them to quit while others clapped and shouted encouragement.

John B pried JJ away and Topper got ahold of Rafe. JJ tried to run back at Rafe but then Pope got in front of him. You didn’t hear what he said to the blond but JJ backed down. He looked at you, still restrained by his friends after fighting for your honor. You spotted a black eye forming and a busted lip. It was pretty hot.

“Rafe, man—“

“Get your hands off me,” Rafe snapped at Topper like something feral. He got your attention without even asking. You met his gaze and he looked… well, crazy. You don’t think that would come until later. “Y/N,” he muttered your name as he approached you. “We’re leaving.”

Rafe didn’t wait for you to respond. His hand snapped out, gripping your bicep and dragging you along behind him.

You nearly stumbled over your feet from the force. Behind you there were protests, and Topper even began to follow, so you had no choice.

“It’s fine,” you called back to him. “I’m going with him.” You were sure JJ heard and for the first time in a long, long while you felt a small twinge of guilt.

It didn’t last long when Rafe shoved you against the side of his truck. He ripped open the passenger side door. The wild look in his eyes almost scared you. Almost.

“Get in.”

You obeyed. He hardly left you time to scramble in before he was slamming the door shut behind you. You watched Rafe as if he were some kind of predator, analyzing his movements as he stalked to the driver’s side and climbed in next to you.

You weren’t going to be the first one to speak. Rafe was speeding like there was no such thing as a limit. The only move you made was to buckle your seatbelt. It took a long few minutes before Rafe finally spoke.

“I told you I’d be back,” he finally grit out.

“You didn’t notice I was gone until I was leaving,” you shot back.

Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“I was looking for you.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped. “You didn’t give a damn where I was until I was leaving with JJ—“

Rafe slammed on the break. Your whole body jolted. The seat belt tightened against you and your head hit the head rest. Before you could scream at him your vision cleared and you realized you were in front of your house.

“Don’t say his name.” The way Rafe said it made him seem dangerous.

You looked at him, eyes wide, gauging what to do next. This was the most terrified you had ever been of him, and yet…

“Your cheek is cut,” you pointed out, voice as steady as you could make it. JJ wore rings. You bet it hurt. “Come in and let me clean it.”

You didn’t leave room for debate. You and Rafe watched one another with caution, regarding the other as a threat.

In a way you were both right.

You got out of the truck first. You made it to your door, knowing Rafe was right behind you.

You went through the motions almost robotically as you took him into the bathroom. You turned on the light and made him sit on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit was in the cabinet and you found everything you needed right inside.

For knowing you had caused all of this, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. Which was odd, because you always seemed to figure out the next step one way or another, but right now, cleaning Rafe’s cheek with an alcohol wipe, watching his jaw tense with the stinging pain, you were unsure how to proceed.

What do you do when you get your way, or at least you think you got your way, but not in the way you had planned?

Rafe swatted your hand away when you tried to open a bandaid.

“Don’t put that thing on me, it’s fine,” Rafe protested. He placed his hands on your hips. You thought he was going to push you back, but he just sort of held you in place.

“Don’t be a baby.”

Rafe ignored you. He dropped his forehead to your stomach. It was almost as if you were an altar for him to worship at. You ran a hand through his hair, finding the sight to be nothing short of beautiful. You couldn’t help yourself.

He muttered something that sounded like, “Why do you do this to me?” You didn’t answer. He took a breath. “Were you gonna fuck him?” Rafe asked. You were sure of his words this time.

You could lie, you thought, but then decided against it. There was no point now.

Rafe tilted his head up, blue eyes searching yours. There was a sense of longing in them that you noticed every once in a while. That sad little need for approval that he couldn’t get rid of.

“Yeah, probably,” you admitted.

Fire ignited in his eyes.

Just as quickly as he became weak to you, Rafe snapped out of it. He was on his feet in seconds. He towered over you, backing you up with each step until you hit the edge of your counter.

Rafe looked down his nose at you. “Were you gonna fuck him?” he asked again, as if intimidation would change your answer.

You stared up at him, defiant. “Yeah,” you repeated, hopping up to sit on the counter. “Probably.”

Rafe’s bruised hand reached up to cup your face. He watched his thumb as it ran over your lips. When it rested on your bottom lip you opened your mouth. Rafe was transfixed as he slid the digit in. Your mouth enveloped him, swirling your tongue around his thumb. You swore you could taste a little blood.

Rafe made a noise of satisfaction and quickly removed it, covering your lips with his own, filling your mouth with his tongue instead. You moaned into the kiss. It was harsh and hungry. Everything that had been building up over the past day, hell, past years, was finally spilling out. The dam had finally broken. There was no turning back.

“You make me crazy,” he grunted against your lips when he came up for air. You panted, words failing to form as his hand slid between your bodies. “And I know I make you crazy.” His fingers slipped into your shorts and bikini bottom, which you hadn’t even gotten to show off. You hadn’t needed to. You gasped as he pressed a finger into your core. He grinned at the wetness that had already formed. “I know it ‘cause I know you.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your ear.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name, bucking against his hand. He rewarded you with pushing another finger in and thrusting them both with precision.

“I’m the only one that knows you,” he hissed. You shivered as his breath hit your ear, noting the anger. But there was something else to it. “I’m the only one who gets to have you.”

Desperation.

Rafe was desperate for you. For you to understand, for you to agree, for you to feel the same. Desperate for you to want him the way he wanted you.

“Tell me you weren’t,” he pleaded, voice shaking with the rage he was trying to contain.

He wanted you to lie.

“I wasn’t.” Rafe hummed and pressed an approving kiss to your neck. He twisted his fingers inside you, forcing a moan past your lips. His teeth sank into the skin of your neck, sucking and biting as you managed to gasp out, “I wasn’t, I swear.”

Rafe pulled his fingers from you and you whined at the loss. He made up for it by kissing his way back to your lips, swallowing your sounds. He popped the button off your shorts and tucked his hands into the waistband. You lifted yourself long enough for him to yank down your shorts, leaving you bare.

You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and kissed him harder when his hands gripped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the counter. Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, drawing an animalistic sound from him.

“Tell me you want me,” Rafe managed.

You pulled back, eyes flicking from his swollen lips to his hungry eyes. The corner of your lip quirked up a little.

“I thought it was obvious,” you mused, reaching between your bodies.

“I’m gonna fuck you either way, so you might as well just tell me.” There was a devious glint in Rafe’s eyes that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You pulled your lip between your teeth and you undid his belt. You reached into his pants and found his cock hard and waiting for your touch. Rafe’s hands tightened on your thighs. “I want you, Rafe,” you said exactly what he wanted to hear, voice heavy with lust, every word the truth.

Rafe surged forward, capturing your lips. He shoved his pants down as you stroked him, but he had plans of his own. Rafe pushed himself closer to you, spreading your legs apart with his hips, and gripped his cock. The head pressed at your entrance and you nearly choked when he thrust in with no further warning.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cursed. Your hands found his back, holding on as he invaded your body.

Thick and long, his cock split you open. Rafe grunted, mouth moving over you in a frenzy, kissing wherever he could reach in that second. Your top came off somewhere in the haze and you moaned as his mouth latched onto your breast. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your cunt squeezed him. Rafe’s hands found your waist again, holding you in place as he began to move.

He gave you little time to adjust but you would’ve gone crazy if he waited any longer. Rafe pulled back, letting you feel the thick drag of his cock leaving you, before he thrust in again. And again. And again. All you could do was hold on as he slammed into you, letting everything that had built up go. You welcomed it. All his anger and lust and frustration and love and just everything. Everything said and unsaid between the two of you was finally getting a resolution.

Rafe’s mouth found its way back to your neck, licking and sucking and biting your flesh. He was marking it, marking you, for the world to see. So when they saw the purple marks decorating your neck, everyone would know you belonged to him. But didn’t they know already? To some degree?

It didn’t matter to Rafe. He was making it clear. There was no room for doubt now.

Rafe fucked you like it was the last thing he’d ever do, like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. Your moans filled the room, your curses and his grunts of your name, the sound of skin against skin, the smell of sex—all of it flooded your senses in the most thrilling way. You wanted nothing more than Rafe and nothing less than everything he was giving you.

The pleasure he inflicted was like nothing you had ever experienced and you knew in that moment nothing and no one would ever compare to the high you felt with him.

He pounded into you hard, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. Your thighs clenched around his waist, your legs holding him against you. Rafe filled you entirely, drawing out every animalistic need you had.

“Fuck,” he cursed, lifting his head. You moaned at just the sound of his voice. “You’re so tight. Like you’re made for me.”

Your cunt clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls squeezed him. Your body tensed and your breaths grew even more ragged as he pushed you closer and closer towards your edge.

“Rafe, don’t stop,” you gasped out.

His hand found your throat. Your eyes snapped open as he gave it a squeeze. He forced you to meet his gaze. You nearly fell apart just from that.

“It’s always been me, hasn’t it?” he asked, wanting an answer. You nodded because yes, yes it has. “It’s always going to be only you and only me. Only me.” You nodded again, lips only parting to let out a moan when he gave a sharp thrust. “Tell me.”

“You, Rafe,” you fumbled out. “It’s always been you—it's only you,” you said in almost a plea. “I want us.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Rafe gave a sound of approval and a light squeeze of your neck. His thrusts stayed sharp and precise and soon enough you were falling apart in his hold.

His cock shoving into you, his hand on your neck, the look on his face—you were consumed by Rafe and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You let out a cry of his name when your orgasm hit. It crashed over you in a wave, rocking your entire body. Your legs and cunt both tightened, holding him impossibly close inside you. Rafe’s lips devoured yours, smothering your moans and whimpers as you shook against him.

Rafe gave a few more rough, constricted thrusts before a deep groan escaped his lips. His hips stilled and warmth flooded your insides. He shivered against you when you slid your hands beneath his shirt and dragged your nails along his back.

His hand finally left the front of your neck, but it didn’t go far as he slid his palm to cup the back of it. Rafe pressed his forehead to yours, both of you catching your breath.

You took one hand and reached for him, running your fingers over the cut on his cheek.

“I still think you should put a bandaid on it,” you managed, voice weak.

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled away. And just like that you two were all good again.

“I think I’ll pass.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one. Took you this long to admit you wanted me.”

You gawked at that. “I admitted I wanted you? Seems like it was the other way around. In fact—“

But before you could finish, Rafe silenced you with a deep kiss. His cock twitched inside of you and you couldn’t help but giggle against his lips.

Rafe was only kissing you to shut you up because you were right, and he knew it too. You were always right and Rafe was going to have to learn to accept that one way or another.

[haikyu-mp4]

You're not actors

Fluffy workplace romance as a streamer with your secret husband Kenma for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @dira333. word count; 837 – f!reader

Kenma loves his wedding ring. It’s just a piece of metal, but the matching one on your finger makes him giddy whenever he sees it, even if he doesn’t usually tell you that.

Unfortunately, he has to take it off for work. Your relationship wasn’t public, so he would rather not awaken any suspicions by showing his ring on camera. He’s a private person, preferring not to have everyone asking questions about his personal life.

You have separate streaming rooms on either end of the house so no noise would overlap, and so far everything ran smoothly. Sometimes, you would have to remind him about the ring as he kisses you before heading to his streaming room, and sometimes he remembers it himself. 

And sometimes you both forget.

This time, Kenma started the stream with his ring sitting snug on his finger and as time passed, he simply couldn’t move past this one level. It frustrated him to the point of running his hands through his hair and groaning at the seemingly impossible task. As the light from the screen hit metal, it glinted in the camera.

That’s how the speculations started. Is Kodzuken married? He never answers questions about his relationship status…

You’re a streamer too, often seen doing collabs with Kenma but never in person. You worried either of you might forget to act not in love while the viewers are literally observing your every move.

This time, you streamed alone. You recently started a Stardew Valley series where the viewers got to follow the progress with your fun commentary. It was very entertaining and gained you many more followers.

And Kenma knew you were streaming, so it was difficult to hide your surprise when a shattering sound ran through the house and someone hissed “Shit!”

Pausing the stream, you ran into the living room to find your husband surrounded by broken glass and spilt soda with a sheepish look. After sweeping some of it away and making sure he was okay, you hurried back to the stream and started it again to keep playing.

You pursed your lips, trying to act as if nothing happened. Unfortunately, you’re a YouTuber, not an actor.

That’s how the speculations started. Who does she live with? Is she in a secret relationship?

Following these two unfortunate events, you had no choice but to do the collab you had planned, as skipping it would seem suspicious. So just like normal, you both opened the shooter game and acted like you usually would while playing together, as if the comments weren’t bombarding you with these different rumours and some suggested your rumours were related to each other.

While you swore like a sailor at anything disadvantageous during the game, Kenma fell into the bad habit of watching your stream instead of his game, heart eyes evident to anyone who had eyes themselves. He would eventually sober up, getting revenge on anyone who went against you and then killing you so he could win alone.

His soft voice in your headphones made a shiver run down your spine and you wished the watchers were lying when they said Kodzuken is the only one you don’t curse at.

There were several heart eyes during this stream, and it was not just in the comments.

You both stood in the kitchen a couple of days (read nights) later. Kenma had accidentally woken you up by stubbing his toe on the bed and you demanded snacks so he pulled you along to the kitchen. The two of you talked about your latest work adventures or friend gossip while tapping your feet on the cold floors, a plate of apple pie in each of your hands.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Kenma said, holding his hand up when he knew you were about to say something like I’m happy you told me or else I’d miss it. “Maybe we should just tell everyone.”

When you looked confused, he flipped his hand around, wiggling his fingers to show off the wedding ring as emphasis. Your eyes widened. “That’s a pretty big thought, buddy, good job.”

He snorted, scooping up another piece of cake and feeding it to you. “I’m serious.”

“But I kinda like watching you try to keep it a secret,” you teased again before stepping closer and pressing light kisses along his jaw. Kenma sighed, pusring his lips and looking away with something that looked an awful lot like guilt.

“I might have just said I have a wife on livestream.”

Flashback to a couple of hours before, when some, probably thirteen-year-old, boy commented on Kenma’s apparent lack of rizz. A gen-Z concept Kenma had no interest in taking part in, but felt weirdly offended by.

“Bet you dont even pull, all the marridge rumors are so stupd.”

He would never admit out loud that it hit a nerve, but you wouldn’t need him to. It was evident. “You should see my wife, noob. She’s fucking gorgeous and plays better than whatever you pull.”

masterlist

/thank you @cottonlemonade for brainstorming with me<3

[retroaria]

₊˚⊹♡ …Love, Love, Love… ₊˚⊹♡

blue lock boys and how they’d describe their love for you!

cw: dramatic descriptions of affection, i think maybe there is a bit of implied personality for all of them, but honestly i’m sure you’re all lovely ppl and will still resonate with it!!

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 -aria | isagi, bachira, kaiser

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚

𝜗𝜚 Isagi Yoichi

One day Isagi realized that if he could spend the rest of his life in the gentleness and warmth of your presence, he doesn’t think he could ever be truly unhappy. Then, as if his last thought had been the missing piece to why his heart burned so hard for you, he realized he was in love with you. Humans are human, he knows this. He knows that there’s no such thing as a perfect person, no one who could truly do no wrong, and he uses this to justify his boundless admiration of you.

He doesn’t care if it’s unfair to see you as the exception, the only person who genuinely is perfect. He knows he isn’t, but here you are, allowing him to bask in your grace. Every word you say and every action you take has a lighthearted nuance to it, an irrefutable sense of joy, it pulls him in until all he can see when he looks at you is a literal angel. When Isagi realized he was in love with you, he swore he would do everything in his power, for the rest of his life, to protect the ethereal light that showers over you, so long as he could bask in it alongside you. Your peace, your happiness, your sense of wonder, he wanted to watch it all flourish forever and ever. And so, he follows your lead, he listens when you speak, he validates your purpose, and he lets you be exactly who you are and who you want to be. Nothing has to change for him, he knows he can’t get any better than perfect.

𝜗𝜚 Bachira Meguru

When Bachira and you first started dating, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of acceptance that had once been so foreign to him. It felt as though you and all your love for him had encased his mind, body, and soul in a world he had never known before. After some time, Bachira realized that it was your world he had been consumed by. A world devoid of cruelty and all the things he had not yet forgiven, though now, maybe he could. If every moment of his life lead him on the path where one day he would stumble into your universe of love and light, he would endure it all again a million times over, knowing he’d come out the other end happier than ever.

He submits to you in a way that is wholly transparent. Bachira gives you all of him, never faltering in insecurity or shame like he may have before. He can’t help but flutter when you commend him for being so himself around you. How could you not see it? How could you hold the key to the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him and still be so blissfully unaware? It’s adorable, he decides. A testament of your undeniable benevolence and tenderness towards him. He’ll spend the rest of his life thanking you for letting him into your world, where he could unfold before you and be loved as he is.

𝜗𝜚 Michael Kaiser

Kaiser had taken you for naive when you first met, he thinks about it now and curses himself for his arrogance. What if he had let your love pass him by? If memory serves him right, he was a shell. A cold, shitty shell of a man guarding the heart of a boy that never was. It was pathetic, truly, but you never seemed to think so. There was who Kaiser saw himself as deep down, and who he knew others saw him as. The two may have been different in regard to their perspectives, but they both concluded the same thing; he was an asshole.

But you were a deviator. You took every word he said and every terrible thing he did as a reflection of all he���d ever known, you saw him in a completely different light. “Michael, why won’t you let me in?” those words still make him dizzy to this day. It was a loaded question, one that you weren’t afraid to ask. It provided him with a new piece, an unexplored path. And so, he let you in, giving you the chance to turn all he’d ever known on its head, and teach him something new. There was what Kaiser thought he knew about himself, and what others thought they knew about him, but then, there was what you fully understood about him. Which then turned into all the things you loved about him, things that he hadn’t ever seen in himself. You didn’t change him, you embraced him. Your embrace was so tight that it cracked the shell he hid within and let your love seep in. He realized he wanted to stay in that embrace forever, and it became clear that he loved you.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚

i got a little lazy with kaisers at the end i’m sorry 😞 this would’ve been too much to do a lot of characters in one post so if you want to see this prompt with other characters please request and i will do them!!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN ❤️

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚

[i-like-writing-stuff]

the other five; part 2 [ five hargreeves x reader ]

okayyyy so it’s not my best work and i hope it is not too rushed or cheesy i have my best and i hope i didn’t crush y’all’s expectations 😭😭 writing this i literally gave no shit on the paradox psychosis, it’s also an AU where they did save the world, and not to mention again that everyone, including reader and five are around 32, basically the same age as the rest of the family

hope y’all still like it tho 🥹🥹🥹

part one

“I can’t believe how bad you suck at Scrabble in every single timeline, my love,” Five laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as you threw a wooden piece at him over the table, offended to say the least;

“I can’t believe what a piece of shit you are in every timeline!”

“Oh, she’s also a sore loser in every timeline!”

As you threw yet another wooden piece at the man before you, you couldn’t help but get infected with his contagious laugh and burst into giggles as well. Five was smiling from ear to ear, as he was heavily laughing, with a hand over his chest, as his other one was resting peacefully on top of yours on the table.

You were sitting on the rug, on each side of the coffee table in your living room. It was a peaceful Thursday night, and you didn’t really have anything planned. You worked all day, so you figured that a glass of wine and some chocolate to snack on while watching a movie would be a decent end of the day, but a couple knocks on your door changed that.

It had been a while since you met Five, a couple of weeks maybe. Nothing short of a miracle helped you save the world for good this time, but that’s a story for another time. Things were actually looking up for you, as the Hargreeves siblings were all safe in one piece, as well as your own parents. Viktor was visiting you in the States a lot more often, Allison, Klaus and Claire resumed their day to day lives, Luther was trying to reabilitate the old mansion for good this time and actually own it, Ben and Jennifer were happily together, as Diego and Lila were doing their best to save their marriage for the sake of their three children.

As for Five, last you heard he was still in the CIA, but that was about it.

The Five from your timeline, that was.

The Five standing in front of you, he was an entirely different story.

After he comforted you the day you and Five broke up, you tried to prioritize your interests and went back to help the family stop the apocalypse. In spite of how much you wanted to just lay in his arms until you went completely numb, you knew that if that’s where you were meant to be, you’d find your way back eventually.

And you did.

“Fuck me, that was draining,” You rubbed your face, falling onto the dusty leather couch with a loud thud, next to Allison.

“You’d think we would get the hang of it by now,” She sarcastically said, letting her head fall on your shoulder.

“If there’s a fifth apocalypse, let’s just let it happen,” Klaus suggested, as some of you couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“At least this one wasn’t Viktor’s fault,” Luther pointed out, making Viktor waive his arms;

“Excuse me?”

“I’m swear I’m gonna kill myself,” Ben rolled his eyes bored as ever. On the surface, that was.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” Lila raised her brows at the man.

“Do it later, we literally just saved your sorry ass,” Five pointed out.

“And to think that after all this shit, on Monday I’m back to delivering packages…” Diego deeply sighed, as you all turned to judge him.

The nine of you were standing in the middle of the old mansion, trying to catch your breath after your hardest efforts yet to save the world. It was a mixture of everyone’s powers, a droplet of a miracle and lots of yelling around, but eventually you did it. You could finally breathe again and not worry that tomorrow may not come.

However, it didn’t mean that you weren’t suffering anymore. You tried your everything to keep your composure around the Five from your timeline and Lila, since apparently even Diego was willing to make amends. He loved his brother and his kids far too much, as well as his wife. He was willing to put it all behind, after all, you were given a second chance and he was not going to waste it.

“Am I going crazy or is that another Five?” Klaus pointed towards the main entrance to the living room, as your Five walked in with a slight smile across his lips and his hands in his pockets;

“I wouldn’t have bet my last two cents that you idiots would have actually managed to save the universe.”

“Asshole,” You giggled, getting up to run instantly into his arms.

Five was taken aback by your sudden excitement for a mere second, as he stumbled a step back, but not wasting another second to wrap his arms around your waist. He walked you back from the diner to the train station that would take you back to Five, and eventually back to your timeline a couple hours ago, but if you were to be honest it felt like forever since the last time you saw him. In spite of being literally yet not really the man who crushed your heart that day, you found such an intense comfort in him, it was stupid.

You were still grieving your old relationship, you were still heartbroken over what had happened. Six years with Five on your side were not that easy to get over, but this one truly helped you feel better. He was so thoughtful, so sweet and kind, yet sarcastic and sassy, he was totally your perfect match, which was insane since you thought that your ex-boyfriend of six years would be your soulmate.

“I hate you,” You declared, crossing your arms over your chest, “You have no business making fun of me- you’re like a hundred years old.”

“Don’t- Don’t go there and make it awkward,” Five instantly said, raising his hands in front of you, “You’re making me feel like a pervert.”

“As you should,” You lightly shrugged your shoulders, watching as he rolled his eyes playfully.

The two of you started spending a considerable amount of time together lately, as he managed to make himself comfortable in your timeline. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy, not only because he had lost his own Y/N, but he also hadn’t seen his siblings in such a long time. In his timeline, they didn’t manage to save themselves after Reggie reset the timeline at Hotel Oblivion, so getting his family back in a way was surreal to him as well.

Five felt alive again and it was all because of you.

All because he stumbled upon the love of his life that day in the subway system, the same woman who brought him back to his family. Maybe they weren’t actually the ones from his timeline, but they were his family nonetheless.

“Okay, one more round so I can shut your trash mouth again,” Five declared, straightening his jacket, as he leant over the table to rearrange the board.

“I can think of another way you can shut my trash mouth,” You smirked, leaning forward on the table as well, resting your weight on your elbows.

The two of you took things surprisingly slow. You couldn’t deny the instant connection, after all- you were a couple in every single timeline. But you couldn’t help the need to avoid the rush. Sure, you held hands sometimes and bump your knees under the table, or he would place wild strands of hair behind your ears and you would sometimes fix his tie for him. You also tended to share tight hugs that lasted maybe a second too long, or linger some touched here and there, but you neither of you ever had the courage to bring it up in a discussion.

You had never even kissed.

“My, my, is my little Y/N getting impatient?” Five mimicked your smirk, lightly grabbing your chin between his index and thumb.

One thing you knew for sure was that you didn’t have feelings anymore for your ex-boyfriend. There was no doubt about that. You just didn’t feel it would be wise to jump into another relationship so soon with his doppelgänger, but after these past few weeks you were so done waiting.

If there’s one thing you learned from saving the world one too many times it definitely was that you should not be wasting precious seconds.

“Aren’t you?” You asked, looking into his eyes, trying to figure out where he stood on all this.

“I’d wait for you decades, darling,” Five confessed, running his thumb across your bottom lip in a gentle manner.

He loved the feel of you, every square inch of your body- he couldn’t get enough of it. He would touch anywhere possible, he wanted to pepper kisses along every part of you, but he did mean every word he said. He did want to wait for you for as long as you needed until you were ready to be with him, truly.

“Promise?” You couldn’t help but wonder, as Five let go of your chin to put some fallen strands of hair behind your ears, “Would you actually wait for me?”

“It’s not even up for debate,” He nodded, getting up from the floor, straightening his three piece suit.

He offered you his hands, as he lifted you to your feet as well. You didn’t know exactly if your legs were numb because of how long you’d been sitting crisscrossed on the floor, or simply because the man before you made your knees weak with one smile, but you knew for certain that you never wanted this night to end.

Five cupped your cheeks in his hands, as you naturally rested your hands on his chest. You were so smitten by him, but in all fairness- how could you not be? He was doing everything right, giving you all the love he had and a bit more extra, while still being his true sassy self that you loved so much.

“Kiss me, please,” You whispered, looking into his beautiful eyes, feeling as you were slowly losing yourself into the moment.

Five smiled as he leaned in slowly to give your lips a light peck, as careful and attentive as possible. His long fingers found their way into your hair, as your own arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in closer. He took that as his cue to go in for a more passionate kiss, capturing your lips with his in just a matter of seconds, losing his whole being in that moment to wrap himself around your pinky finger.

Anything you wanted, he would go through the ends of the world to get it for you- and that was an understatement.

[soggyriceee]

strawberry | Konig nsfw

| this one is a smut, but also angst. basically, Konig gets you to use your safe word for the very first time after being gone for a year in the German base. so, I hope you all enjoy :) |

warnings: rough sex, crying (not good kind) angst, aggressive konig, not edited, will be edited in the morning

╰┈➤

Konig was always gentle during sex. and it a hundred percent had to do with the fact he was literally twice your height and then some. yes he left hickeys, small small bruises on your hips from his grasp, left your legs a bit wobbly. but those were normal considering his size. and even when you reassured him you liked that, he would always apologize profusely, getting you anything you need for hours and hours after.

but tonight, he was a whole other man. he wasn't the same kind and giving Konig. and to an extent you liked the new dominance, the new aggression. it was hot.

until it wasn't.

Konig had been between your legs, fingering and eating you out for about an hour. he was hungry, and not for edible food. he was hungry for you. that sweet pussy of yours, your tight cunt gripping his fingers or dick. he missed it while he was back in Germany for some mission he had given you little information about. all you knew was he was in the middle of Germany, killing potential threats.

already you had came 4 times (that he allowed). he was so pussy drunk, he hadn't realized the tears that brimmed those pretty eyes. in fact, his eyes were closed, his lower half grinding into the bed. you were sure he had already came in his pants at least twice at this point. he would occasionally whimper into you pussy, his hips moving faster against the bed. " fuck ive missed this pussy maus.. you dont even understand." he said into your drenched cunt. a mix of saliva and cum ran down your legs, a big puddle underneath the both of you.

"k-konig can we.. take a break please." you cried from above, your legs shaking despite his mouth simply on your thighs, leaving more and more marks. he nipped at the soft flesh of yours after those words came out, a low growl leaving his lips. " how dare you ask such a question?" he rose, pulling his pants down. and you were right.

his dick was layered in his cum, more of it dripping out from the tip. he was so agonizingly hard, he couldnt bare to fuck into the bed anymore. he needed what he dreamt of every night since leaving. and he needed it now. "imma fuck my babies into you liebling.. make you swollen with them." he said, almost to himself, as he grabbed the base of him, looking down at your pussy.

as much as you wanted him to rearrange your guts, you were drained. he had made you so overstimulated, you could barely form thoughts. it was hard trying to even raise your head from the pillow. but he didnt care. he hadn't realized it before, but as much as he does want to cherish your body like its a rare piece of art from olden times, worth millions of dollars, he loved seeing you fucked out just as much. he loved seeing how he had complete control over your body and there was nothing you could do. it sparked a whole new person in him, one that you were quickly growing scared of.

before you could process his tip sliding slowly into you with ease, his hips were already slamming into yours, his balls hitting your cum soaked ass with so much force, the sound filled the room. your hands clutched onto his shoulders for dear life, your eyes squeezing shut. " you look so fucking pretty maus.. so fucking pretty. all fucked out like this.. shit~" he groaned, his eyes watching your face twist in what he believed was pleasure.

and for a bit it was. until he raised your leg all the way up, leaving the other down. your leg fell over his shoulder and your arms flopped to your side. he was hitting directly at your cervix and it hurt. but he was in so much pleasure. his head fell back as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his lips spitting out dirty phrases in both English and German.

and of course, being away from sex for a year, Konig was beyond sensitive. he came for the first time within the first few thrusts, his head falling into your bruised breasts, whimpering out how good it feels. but that didnt stop him. he kept going.

his hand found its way to your throat, gripping it unintentionally hard. with the mix of tears and now the shortness of breath, it was all a lot on your body physically. Konig had gotten to carried away inside your pussy, the way it sucked him back in. "fuck maus.. your s-so wet.. im close again~" he whimpered, his lips latching to your breasts to find space to mark it yet again.

at this point you were literally going in and out of vision. his grip on you grew tighter as he released yet another load into you. you too felt your pussy leaking, unaware of the knot that was in your stomach. you were feeling too many things at once that you ended up going completely numb. you whimpered below him, trying to find anything to get him to realize that you needed a break. but the tears that fell from your eyes only made him wanna fuck you more.

he slid out, watching the mixture of cum literally pour out of you. your thighs were soaked and red from the constant biting and nibbling a few moments ago. your face was red as well from the lack of oxygen. he let go of your neck, licking his lips as if he was deciding what to do with you next. all he knew, was that he wanted to keep fucking you.

he grabbed your legs and pressed them together and into your chest. immediately you felt his dick slide right in, going at his fast pace yet again. "k-konig please- I-i cant" you managed to choke out, your head hitting the bed frame with each thrust he gave you. this was when the fun for you ended. it only made him more and more horny, seeing you tap out so soon after he began to fuck you.

the look in his eyes was not the same look when he came home, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand as he ran up to you, lifting you off the ground and placing kisses all over your face. no. this look was dangerous. it was almost like it was the same look he had on the battle field.

his hand went back to your throat, his head tilting to the side slightly. "shut up a-and fucking.. take it. I know.. you missed this a-as much as me." he growled, moving his hips only faster and deeper. but you couldnt take it. you truly couldnt take it.

by the time you felt your 6th orgasm approaching, you began to see white light in the corners of your eyes, and you knew you were truly at your limit. "s-strawberry" you tried to say as loud as you could. but the sounds of your cunt and konigs whimpers, he couldnt hear you. his thrusts kept going until you felt him release inside you again, his grip on your throat enough to snap your throat. and at that same time, what you though was impossible happened. you had the most painful orgasm ever, your body feeling like it was going to shut down entirely. it was like you had nothing else to give.

""fuck libeling.. gimme one more.. be a good girl." he whispered breathlessly, his hips beginning to once again, move. this time slower but still deep. but you physically couldn't take it.

once you felt yourself begin to doze off from the lack of oxygen and overstimulation, you were finally able to coherently and loudly say, 'strawberry'.

╰┈➤

you woke up about a half hour later, your throat sore and body just as sore. you tried to turn but your legs gave you a painful sign to stay put. thats when it all came back what had happened. of course, it made tears well up in your eyes. you'd just seen a side of Konig you never thought you'd see. a side of him he kept hidden from you.

you stayed completely still, looking into nothing until you heard sniffles coming from the floor behind you. of course, you tried to move but it hurt. but eventually you were able to turn to your side, a few pained moans leaving you every now and then. thats when your eyes landed on Konig sitting on the floor, head in his hands as tears seeped through his fingers.

"Konig?" you said, wincing right after. but he didnt look up. he kept his head in his hands, his chest rising and falling quick. and you knew what this was. you'd been with him for so long, you knew exactly what he was going through based off his body. but as much as you wanted to help him, you genuinely couldnt feel your legs. "please come here.. I cant get up. let me hold you." you said, reaching your hand out. but still, nothing.

you felt a pain in your chest watching him like this, unable to do anything. you wanted to help him, reassure him that everything is okay. but words only do so much for him, he needed you to physically show him everything was okay. "Konig please I-" "I h-hurt you. im s-so s-sorry." he spoke out, hyperventilating throughout all. he began to rock on the floor, crying harder into his hands.

hearing him cry, it made you want to cry with him. especially since, you couldnt do anything but try and talk to him. "Konig please." you tried reasoning with him. but he couldnt get himself off the floor. thats when you decided to drag yourself off the bed, no matter how much pain you felt. you knew that yes you needed help too, but you weren't gonna get any if your help was having a panic attack.

once you got to the end of the bed, you crawled off of it slowly, your hands hitting the ground first, legs second. you groaned at the light impact, but still dragged yourself over to Konig. he was shaking when you got to him, his cries not stopping, even when you rested your hand on his foot. "Konig please stop crying.. look im okay. im alive." "but you almost weren't." he was looking up now. seeing his red puffy eyes broke your heart. and seeing you, looking lifeless and not responding to him made him even more worried for you than you were for him. the only thing that kept him going was your pulse, and barely that.

"I-i almost k..killed-" he couldnt finish his sentence before sobbing into his hands again, shaking his head. your head dropped, you didnt know what to say. you'd never experienced this issue with Konig, with anyone before. you'd never had to use your safe word and you never expected to. "Konig.. can you look at me?" you finally spoke, your voice stern.

he looked up at you, wiping his eyes. " it was an experience, okay? yes it was scary and yes it could've gone wrong. but it was a could've situation, not a did happen situation. as much as I want to help you feel better, I cant do that if I cant see you, and talk to you like I am now." your hand took his, squeezing gently. he sniffled and nodded, looking straight into you. " right now, I need help too. so lets help each other feel better." you said, smiling softly at him.

he looked down at your neck, some of the hickies leaving behind dried blood or bite marks. some even both. his heart dropped as he ran his eyes down your body again, the thsirt he put on you the second he realized you had passed out, barely covering the similar marks on your thighs. "im.. im so sorry maus.." he whispered, shaking his head.

you smiled and grabbed his face, leaning in as slow as you could as to not hurt yourself, leaving small kisses on his cheek. " I love you Konig, okay? you got a bit carried away. you've been gone a year. its normal. unexpected, but I understand. just please, next time-" "ill treat you like your made of glass libeling." he finished, grabbing your face.

Konig knew deep down, he'd never forgive himself for this. for putting you in danger like that, for turning into the man he was on the battlefield. he'd never forgive himself, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. it wasn't. and he felt worse about being the one on the floor crying instead of showering you in love.

he stood, grabbing you with such ease into his arms, flipping you bridal style. you clung to his neck, smiling at him. "lets go give you a bath, ill order your favorite food. or I can cook. then we can watch that show you've been watching. we can do anything you want maus.. I love you." he said, walking towards the connected bathroom.

and you both did just that. the rest of the night you stayed in, cuddling and watching your favorite shows. as bedtime grew closer for you both, he began to clean the marks along your body, kissing each one and apologizing after them all. he felt so bad, and he was willing to go above and beyond, and even then some, to make you feel like the beautiful princess you were.

[dilfl0v3rss]

NEED more boxer!todo smut maybe one where reader is jealous of the fan girls ???

yes yes yes yes yes yes yessssss!!!!

you loved your boyfriend more than anything. he was caring, respectful, loyal, and most of all, he wasn't afraid to express his love for you. whether it be in an interview or literally in a middle of a match todo always made sure to let people know he belonged to you. though this was true, there always seemed to be those sex-crazed fans that saw your man as nothing but a piece of meat. eyeing him at every angle, just waiting to pounce on him when you're either not around or not looking. todo always told you not to worry about these women, but how could you when he'd do barely anything to keep them in check?

you were accompanying todo at yet another meet and greet, fixing up his locs into a much better bun than whatever he threw it in earlier as your beefy boyfriend sat uncomfortably in his seat. "wanna go the fuck home" he mumbled as he boredly watched the hundreds of girls scream their heads off at the entrance. your hand moved towards the back of his neck, plucking him lightly before lecturing him. "watch your mouth, these people are dying t'meet you and this how you repay them?" todo sucked his teeth in front of you, earning him another pluck on the other side of his neck as you moved in front of him, blocking his view of the entrance as you stood between him and the table. "ow! cmon mama, we both know that we rather be in the bed right now" the smirk on his lips already let you know what he was implying as he outstretched a wide hand on the plump of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh as he peeked past you towards the door.

you quickly slapped his hand away, giving him a warning look as you began to move towards where the rest of his team and security were standing. "behave" you mouthed before both of your attention was brought to the swarm of screaming women moving towards the table. todo internally rolled his eyes at the sight in front of him. in his eyes he didn't understand why these women acted like this, never really paying attention to how he looked when he fought. you, on the other hand, understood completely. from his tight jawline to the sight of his sweaty, glistening body. you knew your man was fine, but that didn't mean you enjoyed when these women would act like this.

"oh my goshhhhh a.t please sign this!!!" the first girl yelled, practically shoving a picture of him in his face. he internally sighed at her behavior, his hand moving towards the picture before quickly signing his initials on it and giving it back to her. "there you go. loved that fight by the way, think i handled my business well. whatchu think about it?" the girl stood in embarrassment as she looked around the room, not having a clue in the world about what fight he was talking about since she probably got the picture from a random site online. todo turned towards you, a small smirk creeping on his lips as the girl quickly walked away. you couldn't help but laugh as you instantly thought back to the fight he was talking about. it happened to be the same fight you gave hime a little something in his dressing room before he went out.

the next group of woman to come up were much calmer, all wearing white t shirt with todo's face in the middle of a heart. of course they tied the backs of them, making their breasts nearly burst through the fabric as their one size too small miniskirts sat right over the bottom of their asses, they probably weren't even wearing underwear. "hi aoiii" the women said in unison, their high pitched voices making your eyes roll as the three of them leaned over the table. this time todo didn't seem as bored, his lip twitching into a smirk as he read the words on each of their shirts. the girl on his left wearing one that said "aoi", the middle one wearing one that said "is our", and the girl on the right wearing one that had a big pink "daddy" right under his picture. the sight of them made you cringe as you quietly scoffed in disgust.

"well this is new" he said with a chuckle, making the girls giggle as well. their breasts bouncing in their tight shirts as they basically eye fucked your boyfriend right in front of you. "we're such big fans todo, really!" the girl on the left said as she batted her long lashes at him. "yea we've been t'nearly every match!" "n'when we couldn't get tickets we'd watch you on tv!" the other two followed, leaning closer towards him on the table as he kept that dumb smirk on his face. "well i appreciate that ladies, i could tell y'all are big fans" you were getting irritated now. your nails digging into your palms as you watched the girl in the middle hand him a gift box with a bright pink bow on it, small smirks on their faces as they waited for him to open it. "want me t'open it now or later?" each of the girls quickly replied. "now!" a fit of giggles following as they watched the man slowly undo the bow.

as todo removed the lid he nearly choked on his tongue. inside the box sat three pairs of panties, each a different color which also happened to match the colors of the words on each of their shirts. the girl on the left's being baby blue, the girl in the middle's being black, and the girl on the right's being pink. his eyes widened before he slowly put the lid back on, picking up the sharpie and looking at the three woman. "w-what y'all want signed?" he said, clearing is throat after he spoke in which the girls replied almost immediately by pointing to the small line in the top right corner of the big heart in the middle of each of their shirts. of course this was also where their left breasts were located, making todo's heart nearly stop beating in his chest.

you were fuming now, feeling as if steam was being released from your ears as you watched this man, YOUR man, smile from ear to ear as he signed his name on each of their shirts. you couldn't watch the scene any longer, turning on your heals and walking towards the exit to wait for him in the car. todo didn't even notice until he heard the exit door slam onto the wall when you opened it, your back turned to him as you angrily walked away. "s'cuse me for a minute" he mumbled, getting up from his seat to follow you outside. the girls giggly attitudes were quickly replaced with sadness as they watched todo walk away as if all the things they just did meant nothing.

you were nearly at his car now, the keys already in your purse since he gave them to you when it was time for the event to start. "mama...baby where you goin?" you ignored him, continuing your search for his keys so you can just go. todo didn't give up though, walking up behind you before lightly pulling your arm around so you can face him. "what's the issue?" was he dumb? did he really not see the problem in what just went on? anger began to cloud your brain, making all your movements rougher and full of attitude as you snatched your arm from his hold and waved your hands in his face as you spoke.

"nigga are you dumb, stupid, or a complete fuckin idiot cause there's no way in hell you don't understand what the problem is" todo's face hardened at your disrespectful attitude, his jaw clenching as he stared down at you with serious eyes. "who the fuck you talkin to like that y/n? don't make me embarrass you out here." you scoffed, his words not putting a single drop of fear in your heart as you pushed your finger into his chest. "you already did that when you was in there signing tiddies and smiling all in bitches faces you hoe ass nigga. m'not finna go back n fourth wit you when i know i could have a new nigga in my bed by tonight so you can go back in there wit your little girlfriends and leave me the fuck alo-" before you knew it your view quickly changed from aoi's face to the upside down view of his lower back as he threw you over his shoulder.

"nigga put me down ion care if you a pro boxer i will fuck you up out here!"

"yeah yeah whatever you say, jus keep that same energy when we get in there."

'in where?' you thought. nevertheless, you continued slapping your hands on his back, trying to free yourself from his strong hands. before you knew it the two of you were back inside, the attention of almost every person in there on you and todo as he continued his journey to the bathroom, not paying them any mind. he became irritated with your small fists hitting his back, using his much larger hands to his advantage as he left a light tap on your ass, "cut it out ma, you only makin it worse for yourself." the three women still stood in their spots in front of his table, looks of jealousy on each of their faces as they watched you. your current state made you embarrassed as you looked at the group of girls the best you could as you hung over your boyfriend's shoulder. todo payed all of them no mind, silently walking into the bathroom and locking the door before putting you down.

as soon as he released you, you made quick work of giving him a piece of your mind as you fixed your dress in the mirror. "stupid ass nigga, now you standing there all mad at me cause i told you the truth. im not trippin over you aoi you can go be wit them bitches right now and i wouldn't bat an eye." you dug yourself into an even deeper hole as you continued to fix yourself up in the mirror, not paying the man any mind as he walked up behind you. he was close, leaving no room between your ass and his print as he dropped his lips towards your ear. "you done?" the sound of his voice made arousal rush to your core, but you feigned indifference. why was he so calm? on other days when you would get like this your boyfriend would usually entertain it, feeding into your attitudes by arguing with you, today felt different.

your gazed moved towards his in the mirror. you were going to speak, but the look in his eyes told you that maybe it was better if you didn't. the look he carried was one you've never seen up close like this before. this was the same look he had before getting in the ring with that one mouthy opponent. the same opponent that ended up getting sent flying to the other side of the ring in just the first round. so you settled for a slow nod instead, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as you felt his wide hand outstretch on your the middle of your back. "bend over f'me then" he left you no more room for arguments as he already had you bending over the sink with his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as he used his other hand to lift up your dress. "why you mad at me baby?" you opened your mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of his deep, menacing voice, "and before you answer that lemme remind you that ian flirt with those girls, didn't let em touch me, didn't even ask f'their names. just been polite and signed my name on their shirts so why you mad at daddy, baby?"

as you thought back to the events that happened you realized how wrong you were, you fucked up. you were so blinded by jealousy that you didn't notice how respectful your man was still being to you during the entire situation. tears began to well in your eyes, your bottom lip already trembling as an apology sat ready on your tongue. "sh sh sh, m'not hearin none of that right now. tell me why you upset" your tears escaped you as you spoke, your breathing already picking up speed as you tried to get through a single sentence without sobbing. "cause i was j-jealous" todo nodded his head at your truthfulness, freeing himself from his black jeans before lining himself up with your entrance. "and what did papa said t'do when you start feelin that way princess?"

your tears fell more frequently now, your voice quieting down almost to a whisper as you shyly told him the words he wanted to here. "said t-to talk t'you about it to avoid stuff l-like this" he nodded again, tightly gripping your hips as he slowly sunk into you. the moan you let out was sinful, the thin walls of the bathroom doing probably nothing to keep everyone outside from hearing the two of you. "auughh d-da-" "sh sh shh, you was able to remember everything you was supposed t'do, but still managed not t'do it. y'know what that means right?" you slowly nodded your head, earning you a hard slap on your ass. the stinging pain of his rough palm caused more tears to fall as your legs buckled under you. "y-yes, m-means i'm in tr-trouble"

todo hummed in delight at your compliance, one of his hands snaking up your back and into your hair as he gripped your hip firmly with his other. "m'glad you know, take what i give you and if i see you tryna run imma just go deeper, y'hear me?" you didn't even get the chance to reply before you felt every inch of his dick begin to move in and out of you at a slow pace. the sound of his hips and your ass already filling the room as you released whiney moans into the air. "m'so sorry p-papa, i didn't m-mean t'make you madddd" you whined, your hands clenching in a tight fist to keep you from pushing at his abdomen. todo ignored you, quickening his pace and strengthening his trhrusts to the point where the sink acquired a slight shake.

you knew that you wouldn't be able to last long if he kept fucking you like this, your back arched to perfection as he pulled you up slightly so you can watch him in the mirror. he quickly released your hip, moving his hand towards your chin as he made you look yourself in the eyes. "what's my name mama? say it real loud so all those girls could hear." his deep voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as he felt your essence begin to spread all over his thighs. your eyes lost their focus, nothing but your release on your mind as you began to fuck yourself back onto his dick. todo couldn't help a devilish smirk from growing on his features, your fucked out expression almost making him ease up on you, but almost wasn't enough...

the next thing you knew todo's thrusts doubled in power, his hand gripping your hair tighter as he left three hard slaps to your ass. "y'hear me pretty? say my name." he knew you could barely think right now let alone speak, but todo had a habit of pushing you past your limits. your pouty lips parted, smeared lipgloss making them shine as you forced out the name he's been dying to hear. "daddy, f-fuckkk s'daddy!" your words were followed by a plethora of moans and whines, your release on the tip of your tongue as you felt his dick kiss parts of you that could never be reached by someone else. todo just smiled, lust dancing in his eyes as he stared you down in the mirror. "s'right mama, it don't matter if a girl put it on a t shirt or on her fucking forehead. daddy only got one girl n it's you"

tears began to fall down your cheeks, your pleasure only growing as you listened to your boyfriend reassure you. at the sound of his voice your walls began to tighten, signaling to him you were about to cum. todo moved his hand towards your stomach, pushing your back to his chest as he kissed up and down your neck. "you gonna cum? gon make a mess on your dick?" you quickly nodded your head at his question, tear stained cheeks shining in the dim light of the bathroom as you moved yourself back harder onto him. "w-wan you t'fill me up daddy" todo felt himself twitch at sight of you, your low eyes and glossy lips making it hard for him to keep his orgasm at bay as he quickened the speed of his thrusts. "ill give you want you want princess don't worry, give you whatever you want as long as you listen. you gon listen to daddy now?"

you replied almost instantly with a drawn out "yessss!" making todo's heart skip a beat as he quickly connected the two of your lips. the two of you made out sloppily, not worrying at all about the noise as your release trickled out of you onto his dick. your vision began to whiten as your legs buckled from underneath you. of course aoi caught you, continuing his ministrations until he was filling you up with his thick load. as both of your breathing began to slow you slipped out of todo's arms and turned around to face him. "m'sorry for gettin jealous baby, i just don't like seein you around so many women." you shied away from his gaze, making him put a strong hand under your jaw so you can look at him as he spoke. "i know mama and i forgive you, now can we just forget this whole stupid meet n greet shit so i can go home and fuck you properly. i hate these things just as much as you do."

the two of you laughed, getting each other dressed before quietly exiting the bathroom. you were surprised to see that all of the women had left, their hopes of pulling the pro boxer being killed by the sound of the two of you fucking like animals in the bathroom.

"looks like they already forgot it"

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ʙᴏʏ

✒ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜱɴᴀᴋᴇ

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛ (ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ), ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ɴᴜᴅᴇꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴏɴ/ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ. ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere Popular Boy, who is cheerful, extroverted, intelligent, effortlessly perfect, and handsome to boot.

Yandere Popular Boy, who is the student council secretary, the captain of the basketball team, and the top student in his department. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who everybody knows, everybody loves, and who everybody wants to be with. Well, except you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who used to be your best friend. You were each other’s only friends, never apart, as thick as thieves. That was how it used to be at least, till high school came, and suddenly he was the hottest person in school, literally and figuratively. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who seemed to become interested in you again, after years of silence between you two, suddenly he’s all over you. Talking about wanting to ‘bond’ and ‘rekindle your friendship’ or whatever he’s going on about. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who was actually dared by his friends to take your virginity. The lonely nerd who never spoke to anybody, always on their own. He feels bad, you’re his childhood friend! The only person who knows what he’s really like, before he became popular.  But if he wants to maintain his position, he has to do what he has to do. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who’s starting to become flustered around you. He stumbles over his words, starts making dorky puns and jokes like when you were both in middle school, and is getting awkward around you. His suave smile and silver tongue are replaced with sheepish grins and excited rambling about all his interests.

Yandere Popular Boy, who feels his heart race when he’s around you. Who finds himself constantly thinking about what you’d think about this or that, who finds himself thinking, just randomly, out of the blue, things like: ‘[Name] would absolutely love this!’ and ‘I should take [Name] to see this movie!’ 

Yandere Popular Boy, who smiles genuinely whenever he’s around you. Though he still filters his words, it’s all to please you, you know? He wants to impress you, to make you fall in love with him and to have your heart like you have his. 

Yandere Popular Boy, whose friends all started to press him for info and any little piece of gossip about you. 

“Dom, yo, did you fuck [Name] yet?” Dominik can’t even remember the guy’s name, but by God, the way he spoke about you made him want to slit his throat open. 

But Dominik simply sighed, and shook his head, he can’t let something like this bother him, at least not in front of others, “Nah, unfortunately they’re like, a huge prude.” He wrinkles his nose, “You’d think somebody like them would be more desperate, but nope.” 

Another one, laughs. The sound is nothing like yours, which makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine every single time he hears it, without fail. On the other hand, this laugh is loud, and crude, and makes his stomach clench and has him forcing down the bile steadily creeping up his throat. 

“Ha! Little freak probably thinks they’re too good for you, or some shit,” Oh, if only this simpleton knew the truth. You are too good for him. You deserve only the best, and unfortunately he’s not perfect, yet. 

Dominik lets an easy, charming, smile form on his face, and a laugh of his own forces its way past his lips, “Oh well, I’ve still got a few months before break,” He watches with cold eyes, as all these oafs grin and chuckle dumbly at his words, but keeps a smirk of his own on, “I’ll pop their cherry, heck, I’ll even send you guys some nudes.” 

Dominik wants to slam his head against a wall till it cracks open, but at least he got the desired effect. His ‘friends’ all cheer, and the conversation branches off as they start talking about their own dirty conquests. 

He lies seamlessly, saying something about promising a professor to help with grading the freshy’s papers. Dominik chuckles and endures the heckling and teasing from the others, and then leaves the room. 

Taking out his phone, he sends you a text, asking if you can meet up. After what he just said about you, he’d feel dirty speaking to you. But if he spent another moment away from you he feels like he’ll tear his skin off. 

When you send him a thumbs up emoji, he sends the details and then heads to his apartment. 

He needs to scrub off the filth those pigs spread to him before he sees you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who realizes you have him completely wrapped around your finger. If it were anybody else he’d be disgusted with himself, but it’s you. Beautiful, perfect, you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who invites you out to dinner. He assures you it's just a hang out between friends, but maybe he shouldn't be saying that while he's dressed to the nines in a fancy restaurant that needs you to book a reservation a month in advance, as a waiter pours you two red wine in fancy glasses that're probably worth more than your kidney, all the while a band plays slow, romantic music in the background.

Yandere Popular Boy, who, after a few more glasses of wine, tells you he loves you, and waits as you recover from this truth bomb, and tries to steady his nerves as he braces himself for your response.

“Nik, I’m sorry… but I don’t feel the same way.” 

Yandere Popular Boy, who can’t believe this. Sure, he knows he doesn’t deserve you, but he thought that he at least had somewhat of a chance. He was a fraud, and a liar, but he was still better than everybody else on this campus. So who? Who could be the one who owns your heart?

Yandere Popular Boy, who's causing a commotion with how he's crying. People are staring as he asks you, with tears in his eyes, why you don't love him. Is he not enough for you? People are whispering about how cruel you are. You're probably playing with his feelings, maybe even using his money. When you call for the cheque, the waiter shoots you a dirty look, and things get even more awkward when he's the one who pulls out his credit card and pays for the meal. You hear an old lady whisper to her husband, "See! They are a gold digger!"

Yandere Popular Boy, who refuses to believe that you simply don’t want him. Everybody loves him, everybody. You’re obviously not like everybody else, but you were still human. You still felt love. If he wasn’t the one you loved, then who? 

Yandere Popular Boy, who fixates on improving himself further. Who pushes away his friends and everybody else in his life, to become perfect. Okay, sure, maybe it’s simply because you didn’t like him, but that means he has a chance, doesn’t he? If you didn’t want him, then he’ll simply have to fix himself so you’d finally see him as somebody worthy of your love.

Yandere Popular Boy, who’s starting to experience burnout. He’s exhausted, is zoning out more, he’s falling behind in class, and his facade is starting to slip. He snaps more frequently, there are dark circles around his eyes, his hair is messy, his skin is gaunt, and his clothes are always wrinkled. People are starting to notice, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who only cares about what you think. Screw everybody else, he left you for popularity in high school, for shallow friendships and people who never truly understood him, and look where that got him. Sure, he was popular, beloved by everybody: his family, fellow students, and even the faculty. But he didn’t have you. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who feels his heart flutter with joy when you confront him, and tell him you’re worried for him. You’re so sweet, really, you are. But he tells you there’s no need, because he’s doing it all for you. If you really want him to finally relax, then you should just accept his love. Pretty please? 

Yandere Popular Boy, who starts smiling more, brighter than he did before. His skin is radiant again, he’s back on top of his classes, and his friends feel like he’s a different person entirely. Of course he is, he’s dating you now! Who cares what his friends think? Do you? If it matters to you that much, he doesn’t mind getting his hands a bit dirty. 

Yandere Popular Boy, who eventually does manage to make good on the dare and take your virginity. Too bad his friends aren't getting any nudes, those are for his eyes only. He loves being able to embrace you, you're so warm and soft, he could just lay with you forever. That night, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, and ignoring your silent tears.

Yandere Popular Boy, who feels like he's living in heaven. You and him are the cutest couple on campus. Sure, he has to coax you to smile sometimes, and you always squirm whenever he has his arm around your waist, but it's fine! This is your first relationship, you'll get used to it, eventually.

Yandere Popular Boy, who promises that he’ll never leave you again. He made that mistake once, and he’ll never make it again. He’s learned his lesson, he promises.

“You’re the only one who gets me, [Name],” He holds your hand in a gentle yet simultaneously firm grip, and kisses the back, “I’m never letting you go again, mkay?” 

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.