#nah seriously how is she not caught yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago

Text

Infatuated— Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

summary— you and Rafe share a history of flirtatious banter, though he’s dating Sofia, a Pogue of all people which doesn’t go over too well with you. after a jealous outburst, Rafe admits his infatuation with the you and his inability to get you off his mind.

warnings— slight enemies to lovers, cheating(not on reader), fighting, manipulation, jealousy, possessive!rafe, rafe being toxic, bitchy!reader, fingering, oral(m&f receiving) face fucking, praise kink, choking, ass slapping, recording sex, slight exhibitionism, creampie, fluff.

a/n— guys I need more Rafe requests, enjoy and reblogs are appreciated <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Rafe Cameron’s grin was unmistakable, even from across the room. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way your heart skipped. He was sitting with Topper and the rest of the group, doing what he did best—being obnoxious and perfectly aware of how much it grated on you.

“Oh, look at that,” you muttered under your breath to your friend.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” she teased, knowing all too well the complicated history between you and Rafe.

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. “Please. He’s with that Pogue girl now. Let him stay there.”

The thought of Sofia, his girlfriend, made your stomach twist. You had no idea why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t like you were in love with Rafe. Were you? It wasn’t like you weren’t a thousand times better than her. Normally you’d be all for supporting women but she just made something rise within you. You were so much better than her—prettier, richer, why did you have to feel like this? But watching him with someone else, a Pogue of all people? It stung. But you’d never admit that out loud.

Rafe, of course, noticed your annoyance like always. His eyes never left you, even as Sofia approached him, practically clinging to his side. You caught his gaze, sharp and knowing. His lips quirked upward, like he was daring you to do something.

You couldn’t look away, though you tried your best. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, it felt like time stopped. It wasn’t jealousy, it couldn’t be, but you were definitely pissed. And yet, he was still staring, as Sofia kissed him. You almost gagged.

“Is he seriously still looking at me?” you muttered.

Your friend gave you a knowing look. “You sure about that? You’re just mad because he’s with her.”

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes.

The dinner continued, but you could feel Rafe's gaze on you, even as he tried to hide it. When the group finally finished eating, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a minute away from all the chaos.

You were fixing your hair in the mirror when the door swung open. You froze. Of course it was him. Rafe Cameron stood there, arms crossed and that damn smirk playing on his lips.

“Need some company?” he asked, his tone mocking.

“Always stalking me, huh?” you replied, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in your voice.

He stepped closer, his eyes scanning you like he was deciding what to say next. “You really think I can’t see it? The way you look at me when she’s around?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I look at you all the time. Doesn't mean I give a fuck.”

Rafe leaned in, his face inches from yours, the air thick with that familiar tension. “Bullshit,” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re jealous, but you don’t have to be.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. “You're with her, Rafe. Don’t pretend like you're the one who gets to act all possessive now.”

His eyes flickered with something darker. “I don’t want her, though. You know that. And you’re the one who won’t admit it.”

You bit back a smile, trying to keep your composure. “You think I’d want to get with someone like you? Get real. I’m not about to play your games.”

“Really?” Rafe's voice dropped lower, his grin widening. “Because I think you’ve been playing this game with me for years. You like it when I get under your skin.”

“Nah. Everything is a game to you and you just want to win, I’m not gonna let you win, Cameron,” you chuckled.

He took another step closer, the heat between you two undeniable now. “Oh, I don’t need to win, princess. I already know you’re mine.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pushed past him, your heart pounding in your chest. As you walked away, you caught his eyes following you again. You knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The late night was in full swing, the bass from the speakers thudding in time with your racing pulse. Topper's house was packed with Kooks, all tipsy and glowing under the dim party lights. You lounged on one of the patio chairs, your mini skirt riding up dangerously high, paired with a white top that clung perfectly to your boobs. The alcohol coursing through your veins had you feeling bold, maybe even reckless.

A random kook, someone whose name you barely remembered, approached with a cocky grin. “Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand.

You weren’t interested, he wasn’t your type, and frankly, you didn’t care, but the buzz made you playful. “Whatever,” you replied, letting him guide you to the makeshift dance floor.

The music was loud, a sultry beat that encouraged you to sway your hips. You danced in front of him, his hands cautiously settling on your waist. The alcohol made you careless, your movements more teasing than you realized, and soon his hands were trailing lower.

When he started to reach under your skirt, you stiffened slightly, and just then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe. He was across the patio, sitting with Sofia, her hand draped over his thigh. But the moment his sharp blue eyes landed on you, something shifted. His face darkened, and before you knew it, he was on his feet, leaving his girlfriend mid-sentence.

“Rafe, what the hell—” Sofia called after him, but he was already storming across the crowd.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Rafe roared, his voice cutting through the music. Before you could react, he punched the guy square in the face, sending him stumbling to the ground.

“Rafe!” you gasped, your heart lurching in shock.

The guy groaned, clutching his jaw, but Rafe wasn’t done. Topper and Kelce were at his side in seconds, trying to pull him back as he seethed, his fists clenched and his chest heaving.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” he snarled, his voice venomous.

The guy struggled to his feet, blood trickling from his nose. “You’re insane, Cameron!” he spat, lunging at Rafe.

Rafe shoved him back effortlessly, tackling him to the ground. The next thing you knew, he was on top of him, fists flying as he yelled, “You don’t ever fucking touch her again! Don’t even breathe near her or I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Stop!” you shouted, rushing forward. The crowd was frozen, watching the chaos unfold, but you pushed through, your hands landing on his chest. “Rafe, enough!”

He was still raging, his eyes wild as he looked down at the bloodied guy beneath him. You cupped his face, your warm hands pressing against his cheeks, forcing his gaze to meet yours. “Rafe, get a fucking grip. You need to calm the fuck down. Now!”

His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling. For a moment, it seemed like he might lose it again, but your touch brought him back. His hands fell to his sides, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

Behind him, Sofia appeared, her voice high-pitched and frantic. “Rafe, what is wrong with you? Let’s just go home!” She touched his arm, but he yanked it away, glaring at her.

“Go home, Sofia,” he snapped.

Her mouth fell open in shock. “What do you mean, go home? I’m your girlfriend, let’s go!”

“Not now, leave!” he barked, his voice cold.

You couldn’t help yourself. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you even bitchier than usual. “You heard him, Sofia. Go home. You don’t belong here.”

Sofia’s eyes widened in disbelief, darting between you and Rafe. “You’re seriously letting her talk to me like that?” she hissed.

Before she could say anything else, Rafe grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the scene. “We’re done here,” he said, his voice low but commanding.

“Rafe, where the hell are we going?” you protested, but he didn’t answer, his grip firm as he led you out of the party. Behind you, Topper and Kelce were busy hauling the bloodied guy off the ground, muttering about how he shouldn’t have been stupid enough to mess with Rafe.

Rafe finally stopped dragging you as the two of you reached a quiet corner beside his car outside the party. The moonlight cast an eerie glow on his face, highlighting the storm raging in his blue eyes. He let go of your wrist, running a hand through his buzzed hair as he took off his hat and paced like he was trying to collect himself.

“What the hell was that, Rafe?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. The adrenaline from the chaos hadn’t fully worn off yet, and your voice wavered slightly.

He turned to you, his jaw tight. “What the hell was that?” he repeated, his voice low. “What the hell were you doing, letting some idiot put his hands on you like that?”

“Letting him?” you shot back, taking a step closer. “I didn’t let him do anything! I was dancing. What I do at a party is none of your damn business.”

“It is my business,” he growled, stepping toward you until there was barely any space between you. “You don’t even get it, do you? Watching him touch you like that, watching him almost—” He stopped, his hands balling into fists as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Almost what? You were the one making a scene in front of everyone, including Sofia!” You hissed her name, unable to stop the bitterness from seeping into your tone.

At the mention of her, something in him cracked. He took a step back, raking his hands across his head again as if trying to keep himself together. “You think I give a fuck about Sofia?” he muttered, his voice quieter but no less intense.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You expect me to believe you don’t care about your girlfriend? The one you’ve been parading around the island? The one you’re probably—”

“Stop,” he cut you off, his voice sharp. “Just stop.”

You froze, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time tonight, his anger seemed to shift into something else, something deeper.

“You think I don’t care about you?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hoarse. “You think I haven’t wanted you every damn second since I first laid eyes on you?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to let your guard down. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” you said, your voice laced with sarcasm.

He stepped closer again, his eyes boring into yours. “You drive me insane,” he admitted. “Everything about you, your smart mouth, your attitude, that gorgeous face, the way you look at me like you know exactly what I want and still won’t give it to me. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried. That’s why I’m with Sofia.”

You blinked, stunned by his confession. “What?”

“She’s the opposite of you,” he continued, his tone bitter. “She’s quiet. Safe. Easy. I thought maybe if I stayed with her, I could stop wanting you. Stop needing you. Stop being so infatuated with you. But it doesn’t work. It never works. I look at her, and all I see is what she’s not.”

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “Rafe.”

“And tonight,” he interrupted, his voice rising again, “seeing that guy touch you like that, seeing his hands on you—something just snapped. I couldn’t take it. The thought of someone else having you, someone else even coming close—” He stopped, his hand moving to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “It makes me fucking crazy.”

His touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to keep it together. “You’re insane,” you said, though your voice lacked the bite you intended.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his lips quirking into a bitter smile. “I am. And it’s all because of you.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. His hand lingered on your cheek, and you felt your exterior weakening, your heart pounding in your chest.

But then you stepped back, breaking the moment. “You’re with Sofia,” you reminded him, your voice steadier now. “And I’m not some consolation prize for you to mess around with when you’re bored.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re not a consolation prize,” he said, his voice low. “You’re everything.”

The weight of his words hung in the air as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there alone, the sound of the party fading behind you.

As you walked away, your mind raced. His words, You’re everything, played over and over in your head, making it impossible to think straight. You needed to get out of there, away from him, before you did something reckless.

But Rafe wasn’t going to let you leave so easily.

“Wait.” His voice was low but firm, cutting through the night air.

You stopped, your hands clenching into fists at your sides as you turned to face him. “What now, Rafe? Haven’t you said enough?”

He closed the distance between you in a few long strides, his tall frame towering over yours. His blue eyes burned with something between desperation and determination.

“I haven’t said enough,” he admitted, his voice softening. “I haven’t done enough. I’ve spent so much time pretending I don’t want you, and it’s killing me. I can’t do it anymore.”

Your breath stopped, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “You’re unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head. “You think you can just say all this and it’ll fix everything? That I’ll forget how you’ve treated me, how you’ve flaunted Sofia in my face?”

“She doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice rising. “She’s not you. She’s never been you. I thought being with her would make me forget, but it just made me want you more. Every time I looked at her, all I could think about was you.”

You hated how his words affected you, how they made your chest tighten and your resolve weaken. But you weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“And what about tonight?” you asked, crossing your arms. “What was that, Rafe? You beat that guy senseless in front of everyone, including Sofia. Do you even realize how unhinged you are?”

“I don’t care,” he said bluntly, stepping closer. “Do you hear me? I don’t care. He shouldn’t have touched you. No one should. No one gets to have you, not like that.”

“And you do?” you shot back, your voice sharp. “You think you’re entitled to me just because you’re obsessed?”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t think I’m entitled to you. I think I’m the only one who can handle you.”

The words sent a jolt through you, and you hated how much they resonated. He wasn’t wrong. As much as you hated to admit it, no one else had ever gotten under your skin like he did. No one else had ever made you feel this alive, this seen.

“Rafe—“ you began, but he cut you off.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Tell me you don’t feel it too. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this, about us, as much as I have.”

Your silence was answer enough, and he took another step forward, his hand reaching out to brush against your waist. The contact was electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “Tell me to leave you alone, and I will. But if you don’t—” He trailed off, his meaning clear.

You hated him in that moment, hated how easily he could break down your defenses with just a look, a touch, a word. But more than that, you hated yourself for wanting him anyway.

“I hate you,” you whispered, but the words lacked conviction.

He smirked, his hand moving to cup your face. “No, you don’t,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You hate how much you want me.”

You stared at him, torn between anger and undeniable desire, your breaths shallow as Rafe closed the distance between you.

“You're so damn frustrating,” you spat, but the heat in your voice gave you away. “You can’t just say all of this and expect me to—”

“Expect you to what?” Rafe interrupted, his tone low and gravelly as he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered for too long, the rough pads of them grazing your skin. “Expect you to admit you’ve been driving me insane this whole time? Because you have, princess. I don’t even care if you hate me. It’s better than pretending I don’t feel this.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, pulling you back and pinning you between his body and the cool metal of his car. Your breath hitched as his lips brushed over your ear.

“You’re all I think about,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Even when I’m with her, it’s you I see. It’s always been you.”

His confession hit you like a freight train, but before you could process it, his hand trailed down, brushing over your waist. “Tell me to stop,” he said again, his lips brushing your jaw. “I mean it this time. Say the word, and I’ll fuck off.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The truth was, you didn’t want him to stop.

“I knew it,” he said, his smirk returning as his lips found your neck, pressing soft kisses against your skin. “You’re just as bad as I am, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you managed to whisper, but your hands betrayed you, going to the back of his neck as he pulled you closer.

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and teasing, as his other hand slid beneath the hem of your mini skirt. “Make me,” he challenged, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your thigh.

You gasped as he moved higher, his hand slipping between your legs. He paused, his fingers curling around the waistband of your panties. “You’ve been teasing me all night in this little outfit,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Did you wear this for me?”

Your response was swallowed by a sharp gasp as his fingers dipped beneath the lace, stroking your pussy with an expertise that made your knees weak.

“Rafe,” you breathed, your hands clutching his shoulders for support.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice smug. “Say my name.”

His fingers pumped inside your wet pussy, drawing soft moans from your lips as your back arched against the car. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled back, leaving you trembling and desperate.

“Not yet,” he said, his smirk infuriating. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

The drive to Rafe’s place was torturously slow, the air between you unrelenting. His hand stayed on your thigh the entire time, his fingers toying with the hem of your skirt. At every stoplight, he’d let his hand drift higher, his fingers rubbing your clit until you were squirming in your seat.

“Rafe,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he teased, his hand brushing against you in a way that made you gasp. “Can’t handle a little waiting?”

By the time you pulled into his driveway, you were trembling with anticipation.

Rafe carried you through his room with ease, his hands gripping your thighs and fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heartbeat thundering as his lips found the crook of your neck, leaving trails of heat with every kiss.

“That guy,” Rafe muttered between kisses, his tone dark and possessive. “If he ever so much as looks at you again, I swear I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Rafe,” you said, your voice shaky, “he’s not worth it.”

“You’re worth it,” he countered, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours.

Before you could respond, he dropped you onto the plush bed, the impact making you bounce slightly. His muscular frame loomed over you, his lips curling into a smirk that was as dangerous as it was intoxicating.

“You’ve been driving me insane, princess,” he said, his voice low as his hands found the hem of your skirt. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this? Wanted you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but the words caught in your throat as Rafe’s strong hands gripped the waistband of your skirt and underwear, tugging them down in one swift motion. You gasped, instinctively trying to close your legs, but he stopped you with a firm grip, his hands warm against your brown skin.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmured as he spread your legs, settling between them. “Let me show you how much I want you.”

His mouth found your inner thigh first, his lips and tongue trailing teasing kisses. Every touch sent a spark of electricity through your body, your breaths growing shallow.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes blazing. “That’s it, princess. Say my name.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on your pussy, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles that had your back arching off the bed. The sensation was overwhelming, every stroke of his tongue igniting a fire that burned through your entire body.

“God, you taste so good,” he groaned, his voice muffled as he buried himself deeper, savoring every moment like a man starved. “I could stay here forever.”

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the soft strands as you gasped his name. The pressure built steadily, the heat pooling low in your stomach threatening to spill over.

“Please, Rafe,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I’m so close��please don’t stop.”

He pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he smirked up at you. “Not yet, princess. I want to feel you lose yourself on my tongue. Completely.”

He returned with more fervor, his tongue and fingers working together in perfect rhythm. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, the tension finally snapping as your release hit you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and soaking his mouth.

Rafe didn’t stop, drawing out every last moment of your orgasm until you were left shaking beneath him.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. “So perfect for me.”

You could barely form words, your body still trembling as he moved to hover over you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive.

His gaze bore into you and his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb tracing the corner of your lip. “Are you really sure, princess?” His voice was low, gravelly, almost as if he was holding himself back. “Because if we do this, I’m not stopping until you’re mine completely.”

Your answer was immediate, desperate. “Yes. I need this—I need you.”

He leaned forward, his lips capturing yours in another deep, consuming kiss, his hands exploring your waist. As his shirt hit the floor, your fingers fumbled with his belt, the need mounting between you both. His breath hitched as you freed his hard cock his lips leaving yours as he exhaled a ragged, “You’re so fucking hot, princess.”

You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips, though your heart raced under his heated stare. As your hands moved over his shaft, his moan filled the room, deep and unrestrained. “God,” he muttered, his voice catching as he watched you, “you’re better at this than I even imagined. So perfect, you feel like a dream.”

His words sent a rush of heat through you, but when he continued, his tone turned darker, more possessive. “Do you even know how many nights I’ve thought about this? How many times I had to think about you just to get my dick hard?” His hand gripped your jaw gently, forcing you to meet his eyes. “She could never make me feel the way you do, princess. Not even close.”

You didn’t break eye contact as you took him down your throat, your heart racing at his confession. His praises were intoxicating, every whispered word making you feel like the center of his universe. As his hand slid to the back of your head, guiding you to take him down your throat gently, he leaned back against the bedpost, utterly consumed by you.

“Just like that,” he breathed, his voice shaking slightly. “So good—so perfect. You don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?”

His words faltered, and you could see the struggle in him, the raw vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. You bobbed your head faster, your lips suctioning around his cock, your hands firm but careful, determined to show him how much you wanted to please him.

When you paused for a brief moment to meet his gaze, you whispered, “I want it, Rafe. Fuck my face, please.”

His eyes darkened, and he let out a strained laugh. “If I do that, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I don’t want you to.”

The power shifted in that moment, his resolve snapping as his hand guided you all the way down onto him. You felt his control waver, his head tilting back as a deep, guttural sound escaped him. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you up and down his long, thick shaft fast, as the sound of gagging and spit filled the room.

“God, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his voice breaking into praises as his grip tightened. “No one’s ever—no one could ever make me feel like this.”

The pleasure built in him and you glided your tongue all over his cock, getting him sloppy the way you knew guys like him loved it.

“Cum in my mouth,” you begged him, your voice was desperate and shaking, he relented with a deep moans, his praise spilling out like a confession.

“You’re s-so, so good princess, take my cum, take my fucking cum down your throat, you deserve it,” he gasped, as ropes of his hot load shot down your throat.

You swallowed every drop and looked up at him with lust blown eyes, sticking out your tongue to show him that nothing had gone to waste.

“Fuck, you’re my little pornstar,” he smirked, pulling you up to him by your neck into a messy kiss.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling his hard cock press against your wet pussy that had your juices practically dripping on his cock.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, your breaths mingling.

“So bad Rafe, everytime I see you with her I imagine you fucking me deep like I’ve never been fucked before,” you whined.

“Goddamn, you really need this baby. Me too.”

He used the tip of his cock, dragging it along your wet folds as the sound of squelching filled the room. You were about to whine and complain but your mouth fell open as he thrusted into you. You moaned at the intrusion and looked down, only to see he was just half way in.

“Y-you’re so big,” you gasped, gripping his muscular back.

“I know, but you can take it. This tight little pussy was made for my cock,” he whispered, leaning down to bit your ear lobe.

It felt like all the wind had been knocked from your lungs as he slid the rest of his length inside you. Tiny whimpers left your lips when he stilled, savoring how your walls began to welcome him in.

“See, you can take it baby, I can feel it.” He began rutting into you steadily, each time, you could feel the head of his cock brush against an area no man had ever come close to hitting before.

“This pussy is fucking Heaven, princess,” he groaned, rolling his hips to meet yours.

All you could do was moan, the overwhelming pleasure taking your ability to form coherent words.

“You feel amazing, and you’re all mine, all.fucking.mine” His words were accompanied by deep thrusts to emphasize.

“R-rafe, cum,” was all you managed to say as you felt the pressure build up like a dam ready to burst.

“I can feel your pussy just sucking me in and gripping me, go ahead princess, cum for me, s’okay,” he cooed.

You cried out, wrapping your arms around him as he picked up his pace, the dam inside you bursting and your orgasm overtaking you. Your entire body shook and he pressed kisses on your damp forehead, slowly moving inside you to draw every last drop of cum from you.

“That’s it, lose yourself on my cock, I know you’ve been wanting to for so long,” he said, his voice a mix of pride and awe.

He wasn’t finished with you, though. He turned you onto your stomach and you stuck your ass in the air, giving him the best arch despite your entire body being weak and unable to take much more.

“Oh shit, this fucking ass,” he said and you gasped, feeling a sharp sting as his hand connected with you.

He wasted no time burying himself to the hilt inside your wet pussy, the new position making him feel like he was deeper.

“You should see how fucking beautiful you look from this angle,” he praised.

Your ass clapped against him, his cock slamming into you as you gripped the sheets and moaned his name.

“Mm—wait, get your phone,” you managed to say.

Your ass continued to move back on his dick as he stretched to take his phone out of his pants pocket. He opened it and handed it to you, curious as to what you had in store.

It was easy to find Sofia’s contact, she was blowing up his phone with frantic messages that made you chuckle at her desperation. Clicking on her chat, you tapped on the record option and skillfully angled the phone to Rafe behind you, his muscular frame and your ass flattered by the lights in the room.

Rafe stared into the camera as he held your waist, thrusting into you with a smirk on his face.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had princess, no other bitch compares,” he murmured.

“Mhmm—yeah,” you moaned, feeling him hit that sweet spot inside you as he spoke, “and whose cock is this?”

“All yours, this cock belongs to you, it always has.”

At his reassurance, which will be much to Sofia’s dismay, you stopped the recording and tossed the phone aside. The antics you both had put on made you even wetter and you knew neither of you would last any longer. Your walls fluttered around him and your knees wobbled, feeling the intensity inside you build.

“Fuck, that turned you on didn’t it? Rubbing this in her face makes you wanna cum baby? Being my little pornstar has you all dumb on my cock?” Rafe teased.

In response, you let out a series of moans, burying your face in the pillow. Your shame didn’t last long as he gripped your neck, pulling you against his chest, his cock pounding into you harder.

“I need you to squirt on this cock, cum with me while I breed your pussy,” he growled.

Your knees wobbled and your release washed over you, your juices squirting all over him as he came inside you. You hummed in content, the warmth filling you up and making your pussy throb.

“That’s it princess, take every last drop of my cum, we’re not letting any of it go to waste,” he muttered.

Rafe held you close, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as your bodies melted into each other, the quiet hum of the night settling around you. His lips brushed against the curve of your neck, his voice low and rough with emotion.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his words heavy with meaning. “No one else matters. It’s just us. This is our world.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest, and you smiled softly, pushing back against his cock slightly, teasing him with the faintest movement of your pussy on him. He moaned quietly, tightening his hold on you.

“If you keep doing that,” he warned in a husky tone, “we’re going to have to go another round.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, as you turned your head slightly toward him. “Tomorrow,” you whispered. “Tomorrow, we can. I’m happy you’re mine now.”

Rafe’s lips found the bare skin of your shoulder, and he pressed a lingering kiss there before responding softly, “Always.”

The weight of his words and the way he held you made everything else fade away. It definitely wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t simple, but in that moment, it was enough.

793 notes · View notes

bambheez · 2 years ago

Text

nonsense (s.jy)

SUMMARY: you overhear your best friend and roommate jake talking about his massive dick, so you decide you want to see it for yourself. PAIRING: bestfriend/roommate!jake x reader (afab) GENRE: smut (minors dni) WARNINGS: sub!jake, dom!reader, oral sex (m. receiving), size kink, reader is very VERY straightforward, jake has a huge dick, profanity WORD COUNT: 1.5k A/N: this is literally just pure filth. inspired by this post and ofc ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. as always, if you enjoyed/have feedback, please reblog/comment or send an ask. my inbox is always open!

“Small dick? Seriously? You know I’m—” he paused, remembering you were in the room with him. He turned around to see you laying on his bed, legs up in the air, eyes trained on your laptop screen.

Your ears perked up at the odd conversation; your earbuds were no longer playing any music, but you gave him no impression that you were eavesdropping.

“Know what, Jake? Cat got your tongue?” Heeseung snickered through his headphones, Jay following with a similar comment.

“Nah, Y/N’s in my room but she’s got her headphones in,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “You know I’m bigger than both of you motherfuckers.”

Your lips lifted into a smirk at his confession. You could hear laughter booming from Jake’s headphones as you quietly put your earbuds away and moved off the bed toward him.

“How big?” you whispered against his ear.

He jolted in his seat, wincing from banging his toe into the leg of his desk.

“How big?” you repeated, now standing in front of him, blocking his view of the game. You lifted up your shirt to reveal your stomach. “Would it reach here,” you asked, pointing to a spot above your pubic bone. “Or here,” moving your finger up an inch. “Maybe here?” you circled around your belly button.

Jake visibly reddened, even under the faint green lights of his PC. His fingertips—currently resting against his keyboard—jerked back into motion at the realization that Heeseung and Jay were still on the call.

“Sorry, someone’s at the door,” he mumbled into his mic. “You guys play without me, I’ll hop on later.” He closed out of the game and Discord tab before taking his headphones off.

His fingers were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, eyes—avoiding contact with yours—staring straight ahead at his desktop wallpaper.

“You didn’t answer my question, Jake.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Y/N,” he turned to look up at you, your body now leaning against his desk. “Why do you even want to know?” his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.

“So you were lying then?”

“No, but—”

“Then show me.”

Jake could feel himself hardening in his sweatpants. As much as he tried to ignore the ache between his thighs and tell you you were insane, the look you gave him—utterly earnest, like you wanted to devour him—made his insides stir.

You dropped to your knees with a thump, rolling his gaming chair out by its arms to face you. A groan ripped from Jake’s throat at the sight. You sat back on your heels to observe his reaction, his lids hooded and lips slightly parted. He nodded at you, watching as you glanced from his growing bulge back up to his eyes.

The imprint of his cock was visible, and your fingers flitted over him, traveling from his thighs up to the strings of his sweats.

He let out short, quick breaths before whimpering “please”.

You held back a giggle. When had he become so needy?

Pulling off his sweats and boxers in one swift motion, his cock slapped against his lower stomach. “Wow,” your mouth watered at the sheer size. And he wasn’t even fully hard yet.

His breath hitched in response, body squirming in your hold. Jumbled thoughts were running through his head at a hundred miles per hour. This was his roommate turned best friend on her knees, ogling at his erection.

You had thought about the size of his cock before, especially when he was lounging around in gray sweats. You’d caught glimpses of his bulge, and the size of it even when he was soft was enough to make your core throb in anticipation. You had thought about how his cock looked, too, and what you saw in front of you now exceeded your expectations in every way. His tip was red and flushed against his abdomen, a lengthy vein ran from his base to tip, and beads of precum were beginning to form at his slit.

You hesitantly wrapped both hands around the base of his cock. “Fuck,” you muttered. Two hands and barely half of his cock was covered.

He felt scorchingly hot under your touch. You squeezed at his base before devouring as much as you could of him in your mouth.

He cried out from above you, hands gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. You could feel your underwear sticking to your folds as you tried to discreetly rock back and forth against your heels, desperate for some friction of your own.

You were bobbing up and down on the top half of his cock, tongue swirling around his tip and occasionally digging into his slit. Jake wanted so badly to keep his eyes open, to see the way you peered up at him through your lashes, but he could feel every inch of movement of your tongue running along his veins that the pleasure was much too intense.

Strings of curses flew from his mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re doing s-so well,” he whined before gently placing a hand on the back of your head.

I can do even better, you thought to yourself as you slowly removed your hands from his base and took him into your throat.

“Ah, oh f-fuck!” he moaned. You hollowed your cheeks, placing your hands on his hips to steady yourself.

Jake resisted the urge to start thrusting into your mouth, largely due to his disbelief that you could take him all the way.

You gagged around his length and he nearly choked on his breath from the sensation. Working your way down even farther, his tip hit the back of your throat while you moved your hands to knead at his thighs.

You pulled off of him to catch your breath, eyes twinkling up at him as a string of saliva stretched between his tip and your lips.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he croaked out, throat remarkably dry.

You gave him a small smile. Just you wait.

You took a deep breath before bringing your hands to the back of his hips, slamming his cock down your throat in one go. You repeatedly swallowed around his girth and Jake’s entire body convulsed under you, noises he didn’t know he was capable of making falling from his lips.

You buried the tip of your nose in his pelvis; your head was foggy, throat sore, and eyes watering, but the sight of Jake losing complete control under you made it worth it.

“I-I’m gonna—mmph,” he whined, bunching your hair in a fist.

You could see his abdomen clenching and feel his thighs twitching, signaling that he would cum any second. Jake opened his eyes to peer down at you and he had to physically grab your bobbing head to stop himself from cumming.

The view in front of him was the most sinful yet beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your lips were slick and swollen, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth down to your chin. Your hair was in a tangled mess from his grip, and there were tear streaks from your eyes down to your neck.

He brushed your hair out of your face and you smiled, humming around his cock. You sped up your pace before wrapping your arms around his hips again, sucking and swallowing around him as if your life depended on it.

“Oh shit, oh f-fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N I’m—”

You pushed your nose forward and took him to the hilt one last time before he was cumming with a shout of your name on his lips. Spurts of his warm release traveled down your throat, and Jake finally grabbed at your head with both hands, bucking his hips up and fucking your face as he chased his high.

Shockwaves of ecstasy traveled through Jake’s every vein and artery. You swallowed drop after drop of him until his thrashing and jerking under you slowed to a stop. His cock twitched in your mouth one final time, beginning to soften, when he pulled you off of him with a pop.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jake moaned like you’ve never heard a man moan before.

“Such a big, pretty cock”, you gave his tip a quick peck before tucking him back into his sweats. “But it’s a shame you don’t know how to use it”, you chuckled.

He whined at the comment, his finger reaching up to the corner of your lips, swiping at the residue of his release. He thought about your question from earlier, picturing reaching your cervix and filling you to the brim with his cum.

“Please, teach me?” he begged.

read part 2 here

#jake sim #jake smut #enhypen smut #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun smut #jake hard hours #enhypen hard hours #jake sim imagine #jake imagine #jake sim smut #enhypen jake #jake headcanon #enhypen headcanon #sub!jake #jake x reader #jake scenarios

5K notes · View notes

luvnoirs · 1 year ago

Text

caught

paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: reader walks in on kk and paige during a tiktok live and accidentally exposes their relationship warning(s): none ! (sfw) word count: 742

a/n: shoutout to oomf for giving me this idea lmao

"hey guys. where's p?" you question after you opened the front door to one of the team's shared apartment.

you had first stopped by your girlfriend's shared apartment which was next door, only to find out that she wasn't there. confused, you had sent her a text that had gone unanswered for ten minutes. so then you decided to go next door to see if her other teammates knew where the hell she was.

you were first met with amari as she held a jar of pickles, half of a pickle being chewed in her mouth while she held the remaining half in her hand. aubrey sat on the couch cheering on aaliyah as she wildly danced in front of the tv playing just dance 4.

amari was the only one who actually noticed your presence and she nodded towards the back of the apartment where the rooms were located since her mouth was still busy chewing on the salty pickle.

you thanked her as you made your way out of the common area and into the hallway. you could already hear loud chatter accompanied with the sound of music playing. you instantly knew one of the voices belonged to kk, so you decided to open it because paige was known to keep kk by her side most times.

your assumption was proven right once you finally opened the door and laid your eyes on kk and paige goofing off in front of an iphone camera. their backs were faced towards you while ice laid on the bed playing fortnite so she noticed you first. yet, her eyes widened a bit before they quickly cut towards kk and paige's direction. but before ice could say anything you had beat her to it.

"babe, seriously?"

kk paused her dancing while her and paige both turned around to the sound of my annoyed voice.

you watched confusedly as kk let out an 'oh shit!", scrambling to grab her phone and tap the screen quickly. before you could question it, paige was walking towards you with a surprised expression.

"y/n?" paige questioned. "i thought you said you couldn't come over tonight?"

you smacked your teeth and shook your head at her. "i texted you saying nevermind. then, i showed up to your dorm but you weren't there and when i texted you again you never responded. where is your phone?"

"it died so i had it on the charger while kk and i went live…" paige scratched her head, glancing back at kk who was now sitting on ice's bed biting the inside of her cheek.

"oh shit, you were live? i thought you were making one of those stupid tiktok videos-- ice! why didn't you tell me?" you whacked the side of her leg as she yelled out dramatically.

you and paige haven't exactly made your relationship public yet and you literally avoided the girl as if she was the plague whenever one of the girls went live. it was honestly all your decision for it to be this way because you didn't want the media to focus on who paige was dating rather than her actual talent and love for her community. you also knew how many fans she had and you could only imagine what they would say about you if they had found out that you were dating the paige bueckers.

"hey, i tried to warn them!" ice defended herself, still trying to concentrate on her game.

"they probably screen recorded the live, too" kk added, looking back and forth between you and unbothered paige.

you groaned as paige wrapped her arms around you, resting her cheek on top of your head. "nah it's fine… you weren't in the camera anyway so they can speculate all they want about it."

laughing, you hugged her back. she had practice earlier tonight so she smelled like fresh clean clothes and the lavender soap she uses. you inhaled and relaxed against her body. "your fans aren't dumb, paige…"

paige pulled back a bit to look at your face. "i don't care. i'm tired of hiding you-"

"um, not to be rude, but can y'all do this lovey-dovey shit somewhere else…" kk feigned disgust and held her stomach as if she was sick.

paige rolled her eyes and you let out another laugh. you said goodbye to her two teammates as your girlfriend grabbed you by the hand and walked you out of the room.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #kk arnold #ice brady #amari deberry #aaliyah edwards #aubrey griffin

869 notes · View notes

magnagaruzenmon · 17 days ago

Text

Fit For A King

A little follow up to a day to remember

Breaking the Mirror

The training hall echoed with the steady sound of Tiberius’s strikes against a wooden practice dummy. Sweat dripped from his brow as he moved with precision, alternating between slashes, strikes, and spinning flourishes with his naginata in its shortened blade form. His focus was absolute, his breathing steady.

That focus shattered the moment the doors burst open, and an energetic voice rang out.

“Tiberius, the man of the hour!”

Tiberius froze mid-swing, his head snapping toward the intruder. There she was, Ive’s Yujin, striding into the training hall like she owned the place. She was all confident and bright, her athletic build and infectious smile giving her an air of effortless charm.

“What the—” Tiberius muttered, lowering his weapon.

Yujin pointed a finger at him, grinning like she’d just caught him doing something embarrassing. “You’re really working up a sweat, huh? Training for Lucion, I bet. Mind if I watch? Or, better yet, join in?”

Tiberius blinked, thrown by her sudden appearance. “Uh… do I have a choice?”

“Nope!” she replied cheerily, plopping down onto a nearby bench without waiting for an invitation.

Tiberius sighed, wiping his brow with a towel. “Alright, what’s the deal? Did someone send you here?”

Yujin put on her best innocent face. “Me? Sent? Nah, I just thought you might want some company. You’ve got that lone wolf vibe going on, and trust me, it’s overrated.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

She laughed, leaning forward with her chin in her hand. “Fine, fine. Maybe I was encouraged to swing by. But can you blame them? You’ve been taking this whole ‘tournament’ thing way too seriously. Ever heard of balance, Tiberius?”

Tiberius shook his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about balance.”

Yujin gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I am the epitome of balance. Watch this.” She stood and immediately attempted a high kick, but the motion sent her tumbling backward into a roll. She sprang up as if nothing happened, brushing herself off with a grin. “See? Perfect recovery. Balance.”

Tiberius couldn’t help but chuckle, despite himself. “Okay, I’ll give you points for effort.”

“Darn right you will,” she said, plopping back down. “But seriously, you need to lighten up. You’re going to burn yourself out before the fight even starts.”

Tiberius glanced at his weapon, twirling it absentmindedly. “I don’t have time to lighten up. Lucion isn’t someone I can just mess around with.”

“Maybe not,” Yujin said, her voice softening slightly. “But you don’t have to take the whole world on your shoulders either. You’ve got people rooting for you, you know. You’re not alone in this.”

The sincerity in her tone caught Tiberius off guard. He looked at her, expecting to see the same teasing expression, but there was warmth in her gaze.

He sighed, setting his naginata down. “Fine. Let’s say I take a break. What exactly do you suggest?”

Yujin’s grin returned in full force. “Glad you asked. First, we eat. You can’t fight on an empty stomach. Then, we hang out. I’ll even let you teach me how to use that fancy weapon of yours. And who knows? Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

Tiberius arched an eyebrow. “Surprise me how?”

She winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He groaned, but there was no malice in it. “Alright, fine. Just try not to trip over yourself too much.”

“Deal,” Yujin said, hopping to her feet. She extended a hand toward him. “Come on, let’s go grab something good.”

As Tiberius reluctantly followed her out of the training hall, he realized that Yujin’s presence, as overwhelming as it was, had managed to lift a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected distraction wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Tiberius and Yujin left the training hall and wandered into town, Yujin leading the way like she’d lived there her whole life. She chattered nonstop, pointing out little details of the marketplace and cheerfully engaging with vendors as if she were on a sightseeing trip.

Tiberius trailed behind, his weapon tucked securely in its sheath. “Do you always talk this much?” he asked, feigning irritation.

“Only when I’m trying to drag a stick-in-the-mud like you out of their funk,” Yujin teased. “Come on, live a little!” She darted toward a food stall and returned holding two steaming skewers of grilled meat. “Here, eat.”

Tiberius accepted the skewer, eyeing it suspiciously before taking a bite. It was surprisingly good, and Yujin’s smug expression made him roll his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is all it takes to get you smiling,” she said, laughing.

“I’m not smiling,” Tiberius countered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

“Sure, sure,” she said, dragging him toward a cluster of small restaurants. “Let’s find a spot to sit. This next part of the ‘Tiberius Rehab Plan’ involves a proper meal.”

As they walked into a cozy pizzeria, the warm smell of melted cheese and baked dough greeted them. Yujin didn’t wait for Tiberius’s opinion and ordered a large pepperoni pizza for the two of them.

“Pepperoni?” Tiberius asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s classic,” she replied. “Trust me, you’ll love it. Besides, you look like you could use carbs.”

As they waited for their order, the door jingled open, and Chowon walked in. She froze when she spotted them, her gaze flicking between Tiberius and Yujin.

“Chowon?” Tiberius said, surprised.

“Hey, uh… hi,” Chowon said, hesitating by the door. Her eyes lingered on Yujin, who was grinning as if she’d just found a new playmate.

“Oh, is this your girlfriend?” Yujin asked, leaning toward Tiberius with a mischievous smirk.

Tiberius sputtered, but Chowon recovered first. “No! I mean, we’re friends. Just friends.”

“Good,” Yujin said, standing and grabbing Chowon’s hand. “Then you can join us. I can’t be the only one dragging this guy out of his shell.”

Chowon hesitated, unsure how to react to Yujin’s boldness. But Yujin didn’t give her a chance to decline, pulling her into the booth.

“Yujin,” Tiberius said, rubbing his temples. “Can you not overwhelm everyone you meet?”

“Overwhelm? Please, I’m just being friendly,” Yujin said, handing Chowon a menu. “So, what’s your favorite pizza topping?”

Chowon blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… mushrooms?”

“Mushrooms?” Yujin wrinkled her nose in mock horror. “Alright, we’ll order another pizza for you. You’re not touching my pepperoni masterpiece.”

Despite herself, Chowon chuckled. Her usual reserved nature started to slip as Yujin’s relentless energy pulled her into the conversation. Within minutes, the trio was laughing over the most ridiculous topics—Yujin’s failed attempts at learning to cook, Chowon’s stories from the hostel, and Tiberius’s deadpan reactions to their antics.

When the pizzas arrived, the table fell quiet as they devoured the food. Yujin, unsurprisingly, was the loudest, praising the chef between bites. Chowon found herself smiling more than she had in days, and Tiberius, despite his initial reluctance, seemed to relax in their company.

As they finished their meal, Yujin leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Alright, new plan. After Tiberius beats Lucion, the three of us celebrate with karaoke. Chowon, you’re coming, right?”

Chowon hesitated, but Yujin nudged her with an encouraging smile.

“Sure,” Chowon said softly, glancing at Tiberius. “As long as Tiberius agrees.”

Tiberius sighed, a small but genuine smile breaking through. “Fine. But only if you two stop ganging up on me.”

“No promises,” Yujin said with a laugh.

Chowon laughed, too, surprising herself at how easily Yujin had drawn her out of her shell. Maybe this loud, overbearing girl wasn’t so bad after all.

As the trio left the pizzeria, walking together under the soft glow of streetlights, Chowon felt lighter, her worries about Tiberius’s next fight momentarily forgotten. And Tiberius, for the first time in a while, felt like he wasn’t facing the tournament alone.

Later that night, Yujin burst into her apartment, still buzzing with energy from her impromptu pizza outing. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag onto the couch, not noticing Gaeul and Wonyoung seated at the dining table, sipping tea and waiting expectantly.

“There you are,” Wonyoung said, her sharp gaze fixed on Yujin. “Took you long enough. How’d it go?”

Yujin flopped into a chair with dramatic flair, her grin nearly splitting her face. “Oh my gosh, you won’t believe the day I had!”

Gaeul arched an eyebrow. “We’re waiting.”

“Well,” Yujin began, leaning forward conspiratorially, “first of all, Tiberius is so much cooler than I thought. I mean, he’s still got that grumpy vibe going on, but once you get past the walls? He’s actually really funny in a dry, sarcastic kind of way. And Chowon showed up—she’s so sweet, by the way—and the three of us had the best time!”

Wonyoung and Gaeul exchanged a quick glance, their expressions neutral despite the flicker of interest in their eyes.

“We got pizza, talked about the tournament, joked around—it was honestly the most fun I’ve had in weeks. And Chowon? Oh, I think she might secretly be as competitive as Tiberius. She just hides it better.”

“Interesting,” Gaeul said, resting her chin on her hand. “So… what’s your take on Tiberius? Think he’s distracted?”

Yujin tilted her head, considering the question. “Hmm… I wouldn’t say he’s distracted. But he’s definitely opening up a bit. I mean, the guy’s been under a lot of pressure. Maybe having people to talk to is good for him?”

“Good for him,” Wonyoung repeated, her voice laced with a subtle sarcasm. “Or good for us?”

Yujin laughed. “Oh, come on, you two! You’re acting like I went there to sabotage him or something.”

Gaeul gave a tight-lipped smile. “Of course not.”

“Anyway, I think Tiberius’s gonna be just fine,” Yujin continued, oblivious to the calculated expressions of her roommates. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes down Lucion. The guy’s got serious potential. And Chowon? She’s totally his secret weapon. I swear, she’s got this calming effect on him.”

Wonyoung sipped her tea thoughtfully, hiding the slight upward twitch of her lips. “That’s… great to hear, Yujin. Really.”

“Yeah,” Gaeul added, her tone deceptively casual. “It sounds like you’re doing a great job, keeping him… engaged.”

“Thanks!” Yujin said brightly, completely missing the subtext. “I’m telling you, we’re gonna be besties by the end of this tournament!”

As Yujin bounded off to her room, humming a cheerful tune, Gaeul, and Wonyoung leaned closer, their voices dropping to a whisper.

“She has no idea,” Wonyoung said, shaking her head.

“Nope,” Gaeul agreed, a sly smile forming on her lips. “But it’s working. If Yujin keeps this up, Tiberius won’t know what hit him. By the time he realizes how much time he’s spent bonding, Lucion will have the upper hand.”

Wonyoung smirked, clinking her tea cup against Gaeul’s. “Cheers to that.”

As Yujin’s laughter echoed faintly from her room, the two schemers settled back in their chairs, quietly pleased with how their plan was unfolding.

The sun had barely set when Yujin burst into Tiberius’s room at the hostel, followed closely by Chowon. Tiberius, who had been sitting cross-legged on his bed with his eyes closed, pretending to meditate, cracked one eye open and frowned.

“You two again,” he muttered. “What now?”

“Karaoke!” Yujin announced with a grin that could power a city. She was already pulling on his arm.

Tiberius didn’t budge. “No.”

Chowon crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t make me team up with her, Tiberius. You won’t win.”

“I have a fight tomorrow,” he replied flatly, shrugging off Yujin’s insistent tugging.

“Exactly!” Yujin shot back, hands on her hips. “You need to loosen up. You’re wound tighter than Chowon’s farm accounts at tax season.”

“Wow,” Chowon said, giving Yujin a sidelong glance. “Thanks for that.”

Yujin waved her off. “The point is, you’re overthinking. A little fun won’t kill you. Come on, Tiberius, live a little!”

Chowon softened her tone, stepping closer. “You’ve been working hard, Tiberius. Maybe Yujin’s right. One night won’t ruin you. And who knows? It might even help.”

Tiberius sighed, glancing between their hopeful faces. “Fine. But one hour.”

“Four hours,” Yujin countered immediately.

“Two,” he said.

“Deal!” Yujin grabbed his hand, practically dragging him toward the door. Chowon followed, hiding her amused smile.

Karaoke Chaos

The small, neon-lit karaoke room buzzed with energy. Yujin was in her element, belting out a high-energy pop song, her voice occasionally cracking from laughing too hard. Chowon cheered her on, clutching a tambourine she wielded like a weapon, adding rhythm to the chaos.

Tiberius sat in the corner, arms crossed, watching them with a bemused expression. But when Yujin handed him the microphone during the next song, he surprised everyone by not only singing but absolutely nailing the deep, soulful ballad.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Yujin shouted, nearly dropping her drink. “Since when can you sing like that?”

“I can’t,” Tiberius said, deadpan, handing the mic back.

“You literally just sang like a pro!” Chowon exclaimed, her eyes wide.

“It’s the same as focus training,” he replied with a small shrug. “You channel energy into precision.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” Yujin groaned, but she was grinning. “Do another one!”

By the end of the night, all three of them were hoarse from laughing and singing. Tiberius, despite his earlier reluctance, couldn’t deny he was having fun. He even allowed Yujin to teach him a ridiculous dance to accompany one of her songs, much to Chowon’s delight.

After their little incursion, Yujin heads back to her apartment where Gaeul and Wonyoung await Yujin leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, her lips pursed in thought. Across from her, Gaeul and Wonyoung stood, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement as they listened to her recount the latest developments.

“So,” Gaeul started, raising an eyebrow, “how was it? Your little hangout with your new besties Tiberius and Chowon?”

Yujin rolled her eyes at the teasing tone but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. “It was… fun, actually. Like, 's surprisingly fun. I mean, I thought dragging Tiberius out of his stoic bubble would be the hard part, but Chowon? She’s the real surprise.”

“Oh?” Wonyoung’s eyes glinted with interest as she leaned forward. “Do tell.”

Yujin sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Chowon’s so different when she opens up. She’s sharp, but not in a mean way. She gets Tiberius in a way I don’t think many people do, but she’s also kind of awkward and shy in the cutest way.” She paused, her cheeks warming slightly. “It’s, uh, kind of endearing.”

Gaeul smirked knowingly. “Endearing, huh? Sounds like someone’s got a little crush.”

“On Chowon?” Wonyoung added, her tone playful. “Or Tiberius? Or… both?”

Yujin groaned, pushing herself off the wall and pacing the room. “That’s the problem! I don’t know! At first, I was just messing around, you know, flirting with Tiberius to throw him off his game. But then he turned out to be… actually really cool. And Chowon? She’s so different from me, but we clicked in a way I didn’t expect.”

Gaeul exchanged a glance with Wonyoung, both of them struggling to hide their grins. “So, let me get this straight,” Gaeul said, folding her arms. “You spent time with Tiberius and Chowon, and now you’re standing here confessing that you might have a thing for both of them?”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that,” Yujin muttered, her face flushing. “I’m just… confused, okay? They’re both amazing in their own ways, and I don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

“Sounds like you’re living your own little love triangle,” Wonyoung teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who knew our Yujin had such a soft spot for the quiet and brooding types?”

“I’m serious!” Yujin snapped, though there was no real bite in her tone. “This isn’t some joke. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like… when I’m with them, everything feels lighter. Like I can just be myself.”

Gaeul’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Okay, fine. We’ll stop teasing. But, Yujin, you’re going to have to figure out what you really want. If you keep leading this on, you’re going to hurt someone—maybe even yourself.”

Yujin sighed, flopping down onto a nearby bench. “I know. I just… I didn’t expect this to happen, you know? I was supposed to be helping you two throw Tiberius off his game, not falling for him—or Chowon.”

Wonyoung crouched beside her, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Feelings are messy, but that’s what makes them real. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Gaeul nodded in agreement. “Just… don’t lose sight of who you are in all this, Yujin. Whether it’s Tiberius, Chowon, or neither of them, you’re still you. That’s what matters.”

Yujin looked up at her friends, a small, grateful smile breaking through her conflicted expression. “Thanks, guys. I’ll figure it out… eventually. Until then, I’ll just try to survive being around them without making a total fool of myself.”

“Good luck with that,” Wonyoung quipped, her grin returning. “Because if what you’re saying is true, it sounds like they’ve both already got you wrapped around their fingers.”

Yujin groaned again, throwing her head back dramatically. “Why do I even talk to you two?”

“Because we’re the only ones who’ll call you out on your nonsense,” Gaeul replied, grinning.

As the three of them laughed, Yujin felt a little lighter. Her feelings for Tiberius and Chowon might still be a tangled mess, but at least she wasn’t facing it alone.

The next morning, the change in Tiberius was impossible to ignore. He strode into the arena with a relaxed, almost cocky confidence that had been absent before. His steps were light, his shoulders loose, and his eyes gleamed with a focused intensity that caught everyone’s attention.

The reporters swarmed him during the pre-fight interviews.

“Tiberius, you seem... different today. Did something happen?” one asked, leaning in eagerly.

“Different how?” Tiberius asked a hint of mischief in his tone.

“You’re... brighter,” another reporter said, searching for the right word. “More lively. What’s your secret?”

Tiberius smirked slightly. “No secret. Just good company.”

From the sidelines, Chowon and Yujin watched with proud smiles.

“He’s glowing,” Yujin whispered to Chowon. “That’s because of us.”

Chowon rolled her eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

As Tiberius walked toward the preparation area, the buzz among the crowd and media was clear: this wasn’t the same Tiberius they’d seen before. Whatever he had done the night before had transformed him into a fighter who wasn’t just ready—he was eager to take on the challenge.

And for the first time, Tiberius allowed himself to enjoy the anticipation.

In the quiet, private lounge overlooking the arena, Gaeul and Wonyoung watched Tiberius’s interviews play out on the large screen. Tiberius’s relaxed demeanor and sharp, confident answers immediately caught their attention.

“This... this isn’t right,” Wonyoung said, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. “He’s supposed to be frazzled! Stressed! Overthinking himself into a loss.”

“Instead, he looks better,” Gaeul muttered, leaning forward on the couch, her expression growing colder with every passing second. “What happened last night?”

Wonyoung turned to her. “You sent Yujin to distract him. How did that backfire?”

Gaeul’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. I told her to annoy him, get under his skin, and keep him off balance. She wasn’t supposed to... I don’t know, inspire him.”

Wonyoung groaned, throwing herself dramatically back into the cushions. “Yujin probably did her usual thing—being overbearing, loud, and somehow impossible not to like.”

“She always turns everything into a party,” Gaeul said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I should’ve known better than to trust her to follow a plan.”

They watched as Tiberius finished his interview with a smirk, casually brushing off the reporters’ questions about his training. He walked away with a spring in his step that made it clear he was feeling better than ever.

“He’s glowing,” Wonyoung said, her voice filled with disbelief.

“That’s not just confidence,” Gaeul said, her tone sharp with annoyance. “He’s... happy.”

Wonyoung sat up, eyes wide. “Do you think Yujin helped him? Like, accidentally gave him the boost he needed to perform better?”

Gaeul’s silence spoke volumes.

“Oh no,” Wonyoung whispered.

“Oh no is right,” Gaeul muttered. She stood and began pacing. “We’ve got to think of something else. If Tiberius goes into this fight feeling like this, Lucion won’t stand a chance.”

Wonyoung frowned, pulling her legs up onto the couch. “But... if he’s this strong now, maybe we should switch gears. Instead of trying to stop him, maybe we should try to... I don’t know, guide him?”

Gaeul stopped pacing, turning to her with an incredulous look. “Guide him?”

Wonyoung shrugged. “Think about it. If he’s destined to win, wouldn’t it be better to be on his side when he does? We could steer him toward something beneficial for us.”

Gaeul didn’t respond immediately, her mind clearly racing.

“Fine,” she said finally, sitting back down. “Let’s see how this fight goes. If he wins, we’ll reevaluate.”

“And if he loses?” Wonyoung asked.

Gaeul smirked faintly. “Then we won’t need to worry about him anymore.”

The two leaned back, their expressions shifting from frustration to calculation. For now, they would watch and wait, their next move hinging on the outcome of Tiberius’s battle with Lucion.

Momotaro stood in the training hall, his blade resting against his shoulder as he watched the replay of Tiberius’s latest interview on the holographic screen. The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the polished floor as he leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. His usual stoic demeanor was firmly in place, but his eyes narrowed with every word Tiberius spoke.

“He’s... different,” Momotaro muttered to himself, frowning.

The Tiberius on the screen was nothing like the opponent Momotaro had fought. This version of Tiberius was sharper, more collected, and undeniably confident. It wasn’t arrogance, but a calm, centered assurance that radiated strength.

The door creaked open behind him, and Hulk stepped in, his massive frame barely fitting through the entryway. “You’ve been watching that for a while, Taro. What do you think?”

Momotaro turned his head slightly, acknowledging Hulk but keeping his focus on the screen. “He’s grown,” he admitted, his voice low. “Whatever happened after our fight, it’s made him stronger. More dangerous.”

Hulk grinned, stepping forward to join him. “That’s what competition does. Pushes people to evolve. You didn’t think he’d stay the same, did you?”

Momotaro clenched his jaw. “I expected him to improve. I didn’t expect him to become... this.” He gestured at the screen, where Tiberius’s playful smirk lingered after another sharp answer.

Hulk chuckled, folding his arms. “He’s got fire now. Looks like someone reminded him why he’s fighting. That’s the kind of thing that makes a warrior unstoppable.”

Momotaro turned fully toward him, his expression unreadable. “I’ve seen fire like that before. It burns bright... but it’s reckless.”

“You sure about that?” Hulk asked, raising an eyebrow. “He doesn’t look reckless to me. He looks like he’s having fun. That’s a dangerous place to be for someone who knows how to fight.”

Momotaro’s grip on his sword tightened slightly, but his face remained calm. “It doesn’t matter how much he’s improved. He’s still going to lose. Lucion won’t let him get through this fight unscathed.”

“And if he does?” Hulk pressed, watching him carefully.

Momotaro’s eyes flickered with something—determination, perhaps, or something darker. “Then he’ll come for me again,” he said flatly. “And next time, I won’t make the same mistakes.”

Hulk nodded slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Good. I was starting to think you weren’t taking this tournament seriously enough. Let him push you, Taro. Let him remind you why you’re here, too.”

Momotaro didn’t respond immediately, his gaze returning to the screen. Tiberius’s confidence was unnerving, but it also lit a fire within him—a need to prove himself, to reclaim the focus and dominance he’d once held.

“He can grow as much as he wants,” Momotaro said at last, his voice low and resolute. “It won’t change the outcome. He’s still beneath me.”

Hulk grinned, clapping him on the back. “We’ll see, kid. We’ll see.”

As the door closed behind Hulk, Momotaro remained in the training hall, staring at the screen. He watched Tiberius’s final words before the interview ended:

"I’m ready for whatever comes next. Bring it on.”

Momotaro smirked faintly, his hand tightening on his blade. “Careful what you wish for, Tiberius.”

The arena was electric with energy, the crowd roaring as Tiberius stepped into the ring for his fight against Lucion. The clash was set to be one for the ages—both warriors had made names for themselves with their unique fighting styles and unrelenting determination. In the stands, Yujin and Chowon sat side by side, their eyes glued to the combat below.

Tiberius entered the ring with his usual calm confidence, his movements deliberate and precise. His katana glinted under the harsh arena lights, and the quiet intensity in his eyes was enough to silence even the most skeptical audience member.

“He looks… different,” Yujin remarked, leaning slightly toward Chowon as the fight began. “More focused, but also… I don’t know. Lighter?”

Chowon nodded, her gaze never leaving Tiberius. “That’s because he’s more in tune with himself. He’s not just fighting to win anymore. He’s fighting for something deeper.”

Yujin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re pretty poetic about him, you know. Maybe you should be the one interviewing him after the fight.”

Chowon’s cheeks flushed, but she kept her eyes on the ring. “I’m just stating the truth. Look at him. Every move is deliberate. He’s reading Lucion’s every intention before he even makes a move.”

As if to prove her point, Tiberius effortlessly dodged one of Lucion’s powerful strikes, his counterattack swift and almost too precise to follow. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Yujin and Chowon stayed silent, both watching with growing admiration.

“You think he practices that smirk in the mirror?” Yujin asked suddenly, her tone teasing but her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity. “The one he just did after dodging Lucion’s attack?”

Chowon bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “It’s not a smirk. It’s just… confidence. He’s earned it.”

Yujin tilted her head, studying Tiberius as he parried another blow. “Confidence looks good on him, though.”

Chowon turned to glance at Yujin, her expression softening. “You really think so?”

Yujin caught the tone in her voice and smirked. “Wait a second. Are you crushing on him, Chowon?”

Chowon froze, her composure cracking for a split second. “What? No! I mean… maybe? I don’t know!”

Yujin’s eyes widened, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “This is hilarious. You totally like him!”

“Shh!” Chowon hissed, her face turning red as she looked around to make sure no one else had overheard. “You’re one to talk! You’ve been practically swooning over him this entire time.”

Yujin leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a playful pout. “Fine, I’ll admit it. He’s… intriguing. And yeah, he’s got that whole ‘mysterious swordsman’ vibe going for him. But I’m not swooning.”

Chowon raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You literally gasped when he took off his jacket at the start of the fight.”

Yujin waved a hand dismissively. “Okay, that was objectively a moment worth gasping over. Have you seen his shoulders?”

Chowon laughed despite herself, her tension easing slightly. “I’ll give you that. But it’s not just that for me. There’s something… grounding about him. He’s been through so much, but he’s still standing. Still fighting.”

Yujin’s expression softened as she looked back at the fight. “Yeah. I get what you mean. He’s… inspiring. In a weird, annoyingly attractive way.”

The two women fell into a comfortable silence, their eyes once again fixed on Tiberius as he landed a decisive strike against Lucion. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Yujin and Chowon found themselves exchanging a glance, both realizing they felt the same thing.

“Well,” Yujin said with a sly smile, “this just got interesting.”

Chowon sighed, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” Yujin replied, her grin widening. “May the best woman win.”

Chowon rolled her eyes, but there was a playful spark in her gaze. “We’ll see.”

As Tiberius stood in the center of the ring, victorious, neither of them could deny the growing feelings stirring in their hearts. For now, though, they focused on cheering him on, knowing that the path ahead—for all of them—was bound to get even more complicated.

The two watch as Tiberius masterfully dodges Lucion’s attacks. Lucion’s bow provided little effectiveness as Tiberius closed the distance between them subtly and efficiently. Having studied all of Tiberius’s last fights Lucion was unprepared when Tiberius began throwing spells and attack patterns he had never seen before.

The fight continues as Yujin and Chowon watch pleased as Tiberius effortlessly defeats Lucion. The crowd is silent as they watch before erupting into cheers.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Tiberius stood in the arena, his arm raised in victory. His latest fight had been nothing short of spectacular, a masterclass in strategy and precision that left his opponent on the ground and the spectators on their feet. From the stands, Yujin’s excitement was practically bursting out of her.

“That’s my guy!” Yujin shouted, her voice cutting through the noise as she jumped up and down, fists pumping the air. “I knew he could do it! That’s my Tiberius!”

Beside her, Chowon clapped and cheered as well, her smile wide but more reserved compared to Yujin’s boundless energy. She glanced at Yujin, who was practically vibrating with pride and excitement and couldn’t help but feel her heart swell at how much Tiberius’s success meant to her.

Before Chowon could say anything, Yujin spun toward her, her eyes bright and sparkling with adrenaline and happiness. Without thinking, Yujin grabbed Chowon’s face and planted a quick but firm kiss on her lips.

Chowon froze, her eyes wide in shock as Yujin pulled back, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration. “Oh my gosh, I—uh—wow, I didn’t mean to just do that!” Yujin stammered, suddenly aware of what she had just done. “I was just so excited and you were right there, and—uh, okay, don’t hate me, but I think I might have a crush on Tiberius… and you.”

Chowon blinked, processing Yujin’s words, and for a moment, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade into the background. Then, to Yujin’s surprise, Chowon let out a soft laugh, her face breaking into a warm smile.

“Well, that’s… surprising,” Chowon admitted, her voice quiet but steady. She reached up and gently took Yujin’s hands in hers. “But it’s not a bad thing.”

Yujin looked at her nervously. “Really? You don’t think I’m, like, completely out of my mind?”

Chowon shook her head, her smile growing. “No, because… I think I have a crush on you too. And, um, on Tiberius.”

Now it was Yujin’s turn to be surprised. “Wait—what? You like both of us?”

Chowon nodded, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve kind of been trying to figure it out myself, but seeing how you reacted just now… I think we’re kind of in the same boat.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the noise of the arena fading away as the realization settled between them. Then, Chowon leaned forward and returned Yujin’s earlier kiss, this time with more certainty and warmth.

When they pulled apart, Yujin was grinning like a fool. “Okay, wow, this day just keeps getting better and better.”

Chowon laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess it does. But, um, we should probably talk about this more… later. After we figure out what to say to Tiberius.”

Yujin groaned dramatically. “Ugh, do we have to talk about feelings? Can’t we just cheer him on and let him keep being oblivious for a little longer?”

Chowon gave her a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” Yujin teased, her grin widening.

Chowon rolled her eyes, but her smile never faded. As the two of them turned their attention back to the arena, the energy of the crowd surged around them, but at that moment, all they felt was the warmth of each other’s company—and the excitement of what might come next.

The duo approaches Tiberius after the fight and confesses. Obviously, confused Tiberius says, “Wait me really?”

The girls nod and say, “We make such a good team I think that we should stick together,” Chowon starts.

“Besides this way, we can protect you from the crazies,” Yujin finished.

Tiberius thinks for a moment and then says, “Okay let’s do this,”

Locked in My Head

The arena was silent as Burai’s massive frame hit the ground, the dust swirling around him in the dim light. His sword lay broken a few feet away, glinting faintly in the aftermath of the battle. The once-boisterous crowd, who had been roaring his name mere moments ago, now sat stunned, their cheers replaced by an uneasy silence.

Paladin loomed over Burai, his armored silhouette casting a long shadow across the defeated warrior. His Ikkakalaka, a monstrous weapon forged from an unholy alloy of Vibranium, Dragonite, and Uru, rested lightly on Burai’s chest. The jagged edges of the weapon seemed to hum with restrained energy, crackling faintly as if eager for more destruction.

Burai, battered and broken, forced himself to lift his head. The pain in his limbs screamed for him to stay down, but his pride as a warrior compelled him to meet his opponent’s gaze. What he saw, or rather didn’t see, unnerved him.

Behind the featureless mask that obscured Paladin’s face, there was no anger, no triumph, no humanity—just a chilling, predatory calm. The same quiet malice that had defined every strike of their fight. Paladin leaned down slightly, his voice low and barely audible over the faint murmurs of the crowd.

“Don’t get up,” he whispered, each word dripping with icy finality.

Burai’s instincts told him to resist, to rise, to fight back. But he knew. Paladin wasn’t making a threat—he was making a promise. Burai glanced down at the Ikkakalaka, its edge glowing faintly with the remnants of some destructive magic. One wrong move, one twitch of defiance, and Paladin would finish what he’d started.

For the first time in his storied career, Burai made the choice he had always sworn never to make. He slammed his fist against the ground in submission, his voice hoarse as he called out, “I yield.”

The crowd, initially stunned, erupted into boos and jeers. The air was thick with their dissatisfaction as they vented their frustration. Burai, the fan favorite, their golden warrior, had been dismantled by someone they didn’t understand and didn’t want to embrace.

Paladin stood straight, lowering his weapon. He didn’t acknowledge the crowd, didn’t bask in the victory like so many others. Instead, he turned silently and began walking back to the tunnel that led to the prep rooms.

As he disappeared into the shadows, the audience’s boos only grew louder, a deafening cacophony of anger and disapproval. It wasn’t just Burai’s loss they mourned; it was Paladin’s impenetrable aura, his refusal to play into their expectations.

The private viewing room was dimly lit, the trio sitting in tense silence as the fight between Paladin and Burai replayed on the large screen before them. The aftermath of the battle had shaken the tournament to its core, but it was the way Paladin had dismantled Burai that truly disturbed them.

Wonyoung leaned forward, her hands gripping the armrest of her chair as Paladin delivered the final blow with cold precision. The crowd’s boos echoed faintly through the speakers, but Paladin’s expression never changed. His face remained obscured, his movements methodical, almost mechanical.

“That was…” Gaeul trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Efficient,” Momotaro finished, his voice low. His sharp eyes never left the screen as the replay cut to the slow-motion highlights. “Too efficient. He wasn’t just fighting Burai—he was dissecting him.”

Wonyoung frowned, her brows furrowed. “Burai was supposed to win. He’s one of the strongest fighters in this tournament. How does someone like Paladin come out of nowhere and take him down like that?”

“It wasn’t just strength,” Gaeul said, her voice steady despite the unease creeping into her tone. “Look at the way he moves. He’s reading Burai like a book—countering every habit, exploiting every flaw. It’s like he’s studied him for years.”

Momotaro replayed the fight again, slower this time. Paladin’s movements were precise, almost surgical. Every step he took seemed calculated to draw Burai into making a mistake. The final blow wasn’t just powerful—it was perfectly timed, delivered with a level of control that bordered on terrifying.

“I’ve seen enough,” Momotaro said, pausing the footage. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “We need to know who this guy is.”

Wonyoung and Gaeul exchanged a glance before nodding. “Let’s dig,” Wonyoung said, pulling out her tablet.

Hours later, the trio sat in silence once again, their expressions grim as they stared at the information they had uncovered.

“Dargo “Dragon” Brando,” Gaeul said, breaking the silence. “Mutant Nephew of storm. Formerly affiliated with the Fantastic Four/ Future Foundation.”

“And fought Hulk,” Wonyoung added, scrolling through an article. “Back when he first returned from Sakaar. High ranking agent of the Wakanda Future Alianxe ”

Momotaro narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. “That alliance—between the Wakandans and Future Foundation. They were the ones who helped Reed and T’Challa escape when the war started turning against them.”

“Paladin—Dargo—was part of that,” Gaeul said. “He wasn’t just some foot soldier, either. He was a key player. Look at this—he helped design the extraction plan that got them off-planet.”

“And he fought Hulk,” Wonyoung repeated, her tone laced with disbelief. “Do you know what kind of power it takes to stand against him, even for a moment? And now he’s here, in this tournament, taking down people like Burai with ease.”

Momotaro’s jaw tightened. “He’s not just a fighter. He’s a tactician. A predator. He doesn’t just beat his opponents—he breaks them. Takes everything they’re good at and turns it against them.”

“Which means,” Gaeul said, her voice quiet, “he’s already watching us. Studying us.”

Wonyoung shivered, her grip tightening on her tablet. “How do we stop someone like that?”

Momotaro stood, his eyes hard with determination. “We don’t let him control the fight. If we ever face him, we have to make him fight on our terms. Force him to adapt. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise, we’re just his next prey,” Gaeul finished grimly.

The three exchanged a heavy look, the weight of what they had uncovered settling over them like a storm cloud.

From the champion’s box, Hulk leaned back in his seat, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He’d watched the fight closely, analyzing every move. Paladin’s precision, his cold efficiency—it was brilliant, undeniable. And yet, the crowd hated him.

“He’s too silent,” Hulk muttered to himself, his massive hands resting on the arms of his chair. “They can’t connect to him. He doesn’t give them anything to hold onto.”

Paladin’s face was always hidden, his body language guarded, his fights devoid of showmanship or flair. To the crowd, he was a phantom—a shadow of destruction they couldn’t cheer for or against. And yet, Hulk couldn’t help but admire him. His mystery intrigued the hulk and reminded him much of himself when he was on Sakaar.

In the prep room, Paladin stripped off his armor in silence. His movements were deliberate, methodical, as he folded the pieces into his locker. He swapped his battle gear for plain, dark clothing, pulling up a hood that shadowed his already obscured face.

As he finished, he caught his reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall. His hands lingered for a moment, brushing against the edge of the hood. Beneath the fabric, beneath the mask, his expression remained unreadable.

Hulk entered the room without knocking, his massive frame filling the doorway. The dim light of the prep room cast long shadows, making the space feel smaller. Paladin sat at the far end of the room, still in the process of cleaning the blood and dust off his Ikkakalaka, its jagged edges gleaming faintly. The air between them was heavy with unspoken tension.

“That was some fight,” Hulk began, his voice even but weighted. He folded his arms across his chest, the muscles in his forearms bulging. “But the crowd… they’re not with you.”

Paladin didn’t look up, his focus remaining on the weapon in his hands. “I’m not one for pageantry,” he said flatly, his voice cold and indifferent.

Hulk stared at the young contestant, his brow furrowing as he took a few steps closer. “But why? The crowd’s cheer plays a very important part in wins and losses,” he pressed, his tone edging into frustration.

Paladin stiffened at the comment, the cloth in his hands pausing mid-motion. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured but laced with quiet defiance. “The same crowd that cheered when you were exiled without a trial? The same crowd that cheered when Blue Marvel was forced to retire because no one was ready for a ‘Black superhero’? The same crowd that cheered for the Registration Act, sending heroes into a civil war? The same crowd that cheered when the Illuminati raised an army against you?”

Each word landed like a hammer, forcing Hulk to confront memories he’d tried to bury. His massive fists clenched involuntarily at his sides as he remembered the betrayals, the pain, the hypocrisy of those who had once cheered for him and then turned on him without hesitation.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Hulk said finally, his voice softer now, almost weary. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Paladin, searching for something behind the mask that covered the young fighter’s face. “But can’t you give the crowd something? A little nod, a smirk, even a damn fist pump? You’re not making it easy for anyone to root for you.”

Paladin didn’t respond immediately. He resumed cleaning his weapon, the quiet scrape of the cloth against metal filling the room. After a moment, he placed the Ikkakalaka down with care and rose to his feet, his full height almost matching Hulk’s imposing frame. He turned his head slightly, his voice low and steady as it echoed in the small room. “I don’t fight for them.”

Hulk frowned, his frustration bubbling up again. He stepped closer, his towering form casting a shadow over Paladin. “Then what are you fighting for?” he demanded, his voice firm but tinged with curiosity.

Paladin hesitated, his gloved hand brushing against the edge of the hood that obscured most of his face. For a moment, it seemed as though he might answer, as if the armor around his words might crack. But then he shook his head, his voice colder than ever. “That’s not your concern.”

Hulk exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You’re good—too good to ignore,” he said, his tone softer now. “But talent only takes you so far. You want to win this? You want to matter? You need to connect. Otherwise, you’re just another fighter in the arena. No one remembers the ghost who doesn’t leave a mark.”

Paladin’s mask tilted slightly, as though he were considering the words, but he gave no reply. Instead, he turned back to his locker, unhooking a plain black jacket and pulling it over his shoulders. Without another word, he picked up the Ikkakalaka, slinging it across his back, and strode toward the exit.

“Think about it,” Hulk called after him, his voice carrying an edge of desperation. “The crowd isn’t your enemy. They don’t have to be.”

Paladin paused at the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder, the faintest hint of his voice escaping from beneath the mask. “They were never my enemy. But they’ll never be my reason, either.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Hulk alone in the silence of the prep room. The towering hero stared at the empty doorway, his thoughts a jumble of admiration, frustration, and concern. Paladin was a fighter like no other, but Hulk couldn’t shake the feeling that the young man’s silence wasn’t just a shield—it was a burden. One that could either make him unstoppable or be the very thing that broke him.

Paladin didn’t answer. Instead, he sheathed his Ikkakalaka and slung it across his back, walking past Hulk without another word.

As the door closed behind him, Hulk stared after him, a mix of frustration and respect in his gaze. Paladin’s silence was his strength, but it was also his weakness. And in a tournament where winning wasn’t just about skill but about leaving a legacy, Hulk wondered if Paladin’s approach would ultimately cost him.

In the tunnel leading out of the arena, Paladin moved like a shadow, the noise of the crowd fading into the distance. Whatever they thought of him didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to entertain them—he was here to win.

Paladin stepped into the dimly lit room, the faint smell of oil and metal lingering in the air. It wasn’t much—a repurposed office space in the abandoned factory he called home—but it was quiet, secure, and his. Or at least it had been until tonight.

His eyes fell on the group of armored women scattered across the room. The air was tense, heavy with a silent challenge. They weren’t ordinary intruders. Their stances, their weapons, the faint glow of otherworldly energy surrounding some of them—this was a team of killers. His gaze stopped on the leader, her blonde hair glowing faintly under the flickering light.

“Magik,” he said flatly, recognizing her immediately.

The other women turned their heads sharply at his tone. Magik stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not supposed to know that name.”

Paladin shrugged, casually tossing his bag onto a nearby table. “I don’t care what you do, just don’t make a mess. You can use the place for now.”

Magik didn’t flinch, but her voice carried a dangerous edge. “You know, now that you’ve seen us, we have to kill you.”

“Um, no, you don’t,” Paladin replied, his tone bored.

A tall, tan woman with a sharp glare stepped forward, the weight of her presence almost tangible. “Actually, yes, we do.”

Paladin sighed, his body language calm as he unsheathed his blade. He moved with precision, readying himself for a fight. But then, as if reconsidering, he sheathed the weapon again, giving the group a disinterested look.

“Is this it? Is this all you’ve got?” he asked, his tone tinged with faint mockery.

Magik’s lips curved into a smirk, though her eyes remained hard. “You think I’m afraid of the Hulk?”

Paladin rolled his eyes and stepped closer, his tone softening. “Illyana, please don’t do this.”

Her smirk faltered. The room grew still. The Hellions exchanged uneasy glances, and Magik tilted her head slightly. “How do you know my name?”

Paladin raised a hand and slowly removed his mask, revealing a face marred by scars but undeniably familiar. Magik’s eyes widened as recognition struck her.

“Dragon?” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.

He gave her a small nod, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, Magik stared, her tough exterior cracking. Then, without hesitation, she crossed the space between them and pulled him into a tight hug. The Hellions lowered their weapons, watching the unexpected reunion unfold.

“I thought you died,” Magik said quietly, her voice tinged with guilt.

“I almost did,” Paladin—Dragon—replied simply.

Magik pulled back, her hands gripping his shoulders. “You’re so dramatic,” she muttered, though there was a flicker of relief in her eyes.

He gestured to the space around them. “My home is your refuge for now,” he said, his tone softer.

Magik gave him a small smile, motioning for her team to stand down. As the Hellions began to disperse, two of them lingered—Jihyo and Jeewon.

Jeewon, her face a mix of emotions, stepped closer. She looked at Dragon hesitantly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her armor. “Dragon… are you okay?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze steady. But before he could speak, Jeewon closed the distance between them, her hands reaching up to gently remove the faceplate from his armor. She stood on her toes and kissed him, her lips soft but filled with urgency.

For a moment, Dragon froze, caught off guard. Then, as if a dam had broken, he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around her. When they finally broke apart, Jeewon’s voice was breathless but steady.

“I’m never leaving you again, my hurricane,” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly as they rested against his chest.

From the corner of the room, Magik let out a soft laugh, her arms crossed as she watched the scene. “You two are so sappy,” she teased, though there was warmth in her tone.

Jihyo, still standing nearby, cleared her throat. “Dragon, what about Greyhound? Is he…”

Dragon looked at her, his expression softening. “He’s okay. He’s with Charles and the rest of the Illuminati.”

Jihyo’s face brightened with a smile. “Good,” she said simply, stepping back to let Jeewon have her moment.

Jeewon grabbed Dragon’s hand and led him toward the makeshift room he had built in the factory’s old office. Inside, the space was sparse but functional, with a bed pushed against one wall and a small table cluttered with maps and tools.

Jeewon sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes scanning his face with a mix of relief and concern. “What happened after we left you on Earth?” she asked softly, her gaze lingering on the scars that crisscrossed his skin.

Dragon hesitated, his expression darkening. “A lot,” he admitted finally. “More than I can explain in one night.”

Jeewon reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “Then we’ll take it one night at a time,” she said gently.

For the first time in what felt like years, Dragon allowed himself to relax, the weight of his past momentarily lifting as he sat beside her.

“Well I guess it starts when i decided to go through with Hulk’s realm champion tournament.” Dargo began

The sounds of the forge filled the air—hammer on steel, the hiss of cooling water, and the low hum of machinery working in unison. The heat was oppressive, but it felt like home to Paladin—no, to Dargo. It had been years since he’d stepped into a forge like this, but the familiarity of it all tugged at memories he’d tried to bury.

Near the anvil stood the Forge Master, a stout yet commanding figure with arms thick from decades of crafting weapons for the strongest warriors and heroes across the realms. His beard was streaked with gray, his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows as they flicked up at the figure entering the room.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dargo the Dragon,” the Forge Master said, his gruff voice tinged with amusement. “Back from the dead, eh?”

Dargo pulled back his hood, revealing his scarred face. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Miss me, old man?”

The Forge Master let out a hearty laugh that echoed through the chamber. “Miss you? Boy, you were always too stubborn to miss. Thought you’d finally kicked it for good, though. Guess the rumors were exaggerated.”

Dargo chuckled lightly, his gaze drifting toward the molten metal glowing in the forge. “I’ve heard that one before.”

The Forge Master shook his head, still grinning. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here. What’s your game this time? Looking to make trouble, or are you finally trying to get yourself killed?”

Dargo’s smile faded, replaced by a more solemn expression. He leaned against a workbench, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m here because I’m tired of watching everything fall apart. I’m tired of wars. I’m tired of heroes fighting each other. I want to bring back the peace that existed before the Registration Act. Before everything turned into chaos.”

The Forge Master let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “That’s wishful thinking, boy. But…” He sighed, his tone softening. “It’s a noble goal. Someone’s gotta try, I suppose.”

Dargo’s gaze hardened, his resolve unshakable. “If no one else will, I will.”

The Forge Master studied him for a long moment before nodding. “If you’re serious about this, you’re gonna need more than just resolve. You need a weapon worthy of your fight.”

He turned and moved to a large chest at the back of the forge, its surface blackened from years of heat and soot. With a grunt, he opened it to reveal a pair of weapons that shimmered with an otherworldly glow.

“This,” the Forge Master said, pulling out a massive ikakalaka—a hybrid weapon that functioned as both a club and a blade—“is Achilles. Forged from vibranium, dragonite, and uru. It absorbs energy from every blow it lands, making it stronger with each strike.”

He then held up a shield, its surface etched with intricate runes. “And this shield? Same alloy. It’ll take whatever energy it absorbs and send it right back at your enemy.”

Dargo stepped forward, his hand brushing over the weapons. They hummed with power, as though alive, resonating with his very soul.

“These are yours,” the Forge Master said. “Weapons for a warrior with a purpose. Just don’t forget—power like this doesn’t come without a price. The stronger they get, the more they’ll demand of you.”

Dargo took the ikakalaka and shield, testing their weight. They felt perfect, as if they’d been waiting for him.

He turned to the Forge Master, his voice quiet but firm. “Thank you.”

The Forge Master waved him off. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a hell of a fight ahead of you, Dragon. Let’s see if you can live up to those scars.”

Dargo strapped the weapons to his back, his smirk returning faintly. For the first time in years, he felt ready—not just to fight, but to stand for something worth fighting for. The weight of the weapons on his shoulders was nothing compared to the weight of his resolve. This wasn’t about revenge or glory; it was about restoring the balance he once believed in.

Jeewon listened intently as Paladin recounted his story. His voice was steady but distant, as if he was narrating the life of someone else rather than his own. She could sense the hesitation behind his words, the deliberate omissions as he danced around the full truth. He was holding back, shielding himself from fully opening up to her, and it broke her heart. This wasn’t the Dragon she remembered. The man she had known was unflinchingly honest, brimming with passion, and carrying a spark of hope that could ignite an entire room.

Now, that spark was gone. The light that once defined him was buried beneath layers of pain and isolation. Jeewon’s heart ached as she watched him, his eyes heavy with the weight of his burdens, his movements careful and restrained, as if he was afraid to let himself feel anything.

Without thinking, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his tense frame and pressing her head to his chest. She let her warmth flow through her, hoping it would reach him. Paladin stiffened at first, unused to such closeness, but slowly, almost reluctantly, he relaxed into her embrace. It was one of the first genuine moments of comfort he’d allowed himself in years.

“Dragon,” Jeewon whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please come back.”

Paladin didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. She could feel the walls he’d built around himself, thick and unyielding, but she wasn’t ready to give up.

“This stoic act, it’s not you,” she continued, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “You’re easygoing and happy, not guarded and cold. You used to laugh, even when things seemed impossible. You used to believe in people, in us.”

Jeewon reached up, her fingers trembling slightly as she unhooked the metal plate obscuring his face. The action was gentle, deliberate, as if she was peeling away the mask he had hidden behind for so long. When the plate fell away, she saw the face she remembered—the face of the man she had loved before war and responsibility had carved so many scars into his soul. His eyes, though weary, still held a flicker of the fire she knew was buried deep within.

“I want my Hurricane back,” she said, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes.

Paladin’s gaze softened for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. He closed his eyes, a deep sigh escaping him as he struggled to respond.

“You don’t understand, Jeewon,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “The man you knew… he doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve seen too much, done too much. I can’t be him again.”

“Yes, you can,” she said firmly, her hands cupping his face. “That man is still in there. I see him, even if you can’t. He’s in the way you hesitate to hurt others unnecessarily, the way you protect those who can’t protect themselves. You might not feel it, but he’s still here, Dargo. And I’m not giving up on him.”

Paladin shook his head, his jaw tightening as he tried to pull away, but Jeewon wouldn’t let him. She pressed her forehead to his, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“You’re not alone, Dargo. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. Please, let me in. Let me help you.”

For a long moment, the room was filled with silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing. Paladin’s hands slowly came up to rest on her wrists, his touch hesitant, unsure.

“I’m afraid,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I’m afraid of letting you see how broken I’ve become. Of letting anyone see.”

“You’re not broken,” Jeewon said softly. “You’re hurt. But hurt can heal. It just takes time… and people who care about you.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she continued, her voice trembling. “I care about you, Dragon. I always have. And I’ll be here, no matter how long it takes. I’ll wait for you to find your way back, but please… please don’t shut me out.”

Paladin’s shoulders sagged, the weight of her words breaking through his defenses. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to feel something other than numbness. He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Jeewon tightened her embrace, her heart swelling with hope. She could feel it—the first cracks in the walls he had built around himself. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

As the night wore on, Jeewon remained by Dargo’s side, her arms wrapped protectively around him. The tension that had been etched into his every movement began to ease, his breathing slowing into a steady rhythm. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to surrender, to let go of the constant vigilance that had kept him alive but had also worn him down.

Jeewon held him close, gently stroking his hair as his head rested against her shoulder. She could feel his exhaustion, not just physically but emotionally, and it broke her heart to think of all he had endured. Yet, for now, he was at peace.

“Sleep,” she whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re safe here.”

Dargo’s lips moved slightly, a faint murmur escaping as he drifted into a deep sleep. Jeewon stayed awake, watching over him, a small smile playing on her lips as she felt the faintest glimmer of hope for the man she loved.

The early morning light filtered through the cracks in the factory’s walls, illuminating the makeshift bedroom with a soft, golden glow. Dargo stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he felt the warmth of the sun on his face. For a moment, he was disoriented, the memories of the previous night flooding back.

“Good morning, Hurricane,” Jeewon murmured, her voice laced with affection.

Dargo blinked, turning his head to see her still sitting beside him, a gentle smile on her face. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door to the room creaked open.

“Well, well,” came a familiar voice, sharp and teasing. “The great Dragon finally wakes up.”

Dargo sat up quickly, his body tense as Magik stepped into the room, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. She was dressed in her battle attire, her soul sword resting against her shoulder.

“Ilyanna,” he said, his voice still groggy.

“Don’t ‘Ilyanna’ me,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been sulking in this place long enough. Time to see if you’ve still got it, protégé.”

Dargo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Magik said with a grin, tossing him a wooden practice sword. “I want to see if all that brooding has dulled your skills.”

Jeewon gave Dargo an encouraging look, gently squeezing his hand. “You should go. She won’t let up until you do.”

With a resigned groan, Dargo stood and stretched, rolling his shoulders as he grabbed the practice sword. “Fine,” he said, glancing at Magik. “But don’t blame me if you regret this.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Magik replied, her grin widening as she led him to the sparring area.

The two faced off in the wide, open space of the factory floor. Magik twirled her sword with practiced ease, her movements fluid and precise. Dargo, now fully awake and focused, settled into a ready stance, the wooden sword held firmly in his grip. He set his armor back in place and he was Paladin once more. Both Jeewon and Magik noticed his change in countenance as he armored up. It saddened them to see him so guarded and mechanical

“Show me what you’ve got,” Magik said, her tone challenging. Paladin nodded before getting in a ready stance. He faced her with a malicious silence that put the rest of Magik’s Hellions on edge. Magik charged. Using her stepping disc she tried to get the edge on Dragon but found it difficult due to his hardened reflexes. He anticipated her every move and the one after that leaving her on the ropes.

Jeewon watched from afar saddened by Dragon’s almost mechanical movements and stiff attacks. His fluidity was gone which she noticed is probably from all of the scar tissue covering his body. She made the mental not to try rejuvenation on Dragon later tonight to hopefully mend more of him.

After Paladin’s fight with Burai. Leviathan began running some calculations with his girlfriend as to who his next opponent would be. Had Burai bested Paladin it would have been Burai but due to his loss and Paladin’s new seating after his most recent fight his schedule was in flux.

Eventually the math checked out to be a fighter named Diobronto

The preparation chambers were dimly lit, the echoes of the arena still faintly audible through the stone walls. Leviathan leaned against a pillar, his face a mask of quiet contemplation. Across from him, Heejin sat cross-legged on a bench, her eyes fixed on him with an intensity that matched her concern.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Heejin said, breaking the silence. “Something tells me it’s not just the fight you’re thinking about.”

Leviathan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not just any fight, Heejin. It’s Diobronto.”

Heejin arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Diobronto? The crowd favorite? The one who cracks jokes mid-fight and has the whole arena eating out of his hand?”

“Yeah, that Diobronto,” Leviathan replied, his voice heavy. “It’s not just the crowd that makes him a problem. It’s who he is—and what he’s fighting for.”

Heejin leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Go on.”

Leviathan hesitated, his fingers drumming against the pillar. “You’ve seen how the crowd loves him. They adore his charm, his humor. But what most people don’t know is that he’s not here for glory or fame. He’s here for revenge.”

Heejin tilted her head, intrigued. “Revenge? Against who?”

“Burai,” Leviathan said, his jaw tightening. “Apparently, they were allies once, partners in the field. But Burai… stabbed him in the back. Literally. All for a shot at success. Diobronto barely survived, and now? He’s made it his mission to fight his way through this tournament just to face Burai again.”

Heejin whistled softly. “That’s… intense. No wonder the crowd loves him. A personal vendetta makes for a great story.”

“It’s more than that,” Leviathan said, his voice lowering. “Diobronto not just a skilled fighter—he’s unpredictable. He uses his humor to throw you off, but underneath it all, he’s calculating. Every move he makes is designed to exploit weaknesses. And after what Burai did to him, he fights like someone who has nothing to lose.”

Heejin studied Leviathan’s expression, noting the tension in his shoulders and the shadow of unease in his eyes. “You’re scared of him,” she said softly, not as an accusation but as an observation.

Leviathan didn’t deny it. “I’d be stupid not to be. He’s got the crowd on his side, a grudge fueling his every step, and skills that rival anyone in this tournament. He’s dangerous, Heejin. And what’s worse? He’s smart. He’ll study me, find every flaw in my technique, and use it against me.”

Heejin stood and crossed the room, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve faced dangerous opponents before, Leviathan. What makes Diobronto so different?”

Leviathan met her gaze, his voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “Because he’s not just fighting to win. He’s fighting for something he believes in. And that kind of conviction? It makes people unstoppable.”

Heejin nodded slowly, processing his words. “But you’ve got something too, Levi. You’ve got your own reasons for being here. Don’t let his story overshadow yours.”

Leviathan gave her a small, appreciative smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Part of the job,” Heejin teased, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “But seriously, Levi, you’ve got this. Diobronto may be a crowd favorite, but you’re not fighting for their approval. You’re fighting for you. And that’s just as powerful.”

Leviathan exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his body. “Thanks, Heejin. I needed that.”

“Anytime,” she said with a grin. “Now, how about we strategize a little? If Diobronto’s as unpredictable as you say, you’ll need a game plan.”

“Good idea,” Leviathan agreed, his determination returning. “Let’s figure this out. Together.”

Vendetta

After my most recent fight, I headed home. It was another win—another opponent defeated, another step closer to what I really wanted. But it wasn’t Burai. Again. For the fourth time, I’d asked to face him directly, but Hulk had been adamant that I needed to earn my way there. “The right way,” he’d called it. He said my petty vengeance wasn’t fair, that it undermined the tournament’s purpose.

Unfair? It wasn’t like I planned to stick around afterward. My goal was simple: beat Burai, settle the score, and disappear back to my little corner of the world. But no. Instead of wrapping things up quickly, I’d been forced to climb this ridiculous ladder. The more I fought, the more my fame and legend grew, and the more tangled I became in the tournament’s narrative. Now people were rooting for me like I was some sort of hero. It was exhausting.

When adapting Mei to Mei Washio, her introduction gains a layer of serpentine mystique and a duality of nurturing and danger that fits her unique presence. Mei’s snake-like features and confident aura would shift the focus of her character, emphasizing her as someone both alluring and potentially treacherous. Here’s how this could adjust her introduction:

When I finally reached my door, I stopped short. A young woman stood waiting for me, leaning casually against the frame. Her presence was magnetic, her confidence almost tangible. She had an aura that was both motherly and serpentine—a strange combination of sultry allure and gentle composure that left my thoughts scattered.

Her body was undeniably captivating, but it was her subtle, reptilian features that caught my attention. Scales adorned her collarbone, shimmering faintly under the light, and her golden eyes were slitted like a snake’s. A mutant, I thought, my gaze traveling over her. I tried to keep my appraisal focused and respectful, but it wasn’t easy.

“Diobronto?” she asked, her voice smooth, with a teasing lilt that made it impossible to ignore her.

I nodded slowly, unsure what to make of her. Her smile widened as she stepped forward, moving with a grace that felt both deliberate and effortless. “I’m Mei Washio,” she introduced herself, her tone light yet tinged with intrigue. Her piercing eyes locked onto mine, and I felt like she could see straight through me.

As I hesitated, she tilted her head, her scales catching the faintest glimmer of light. “Like what you see?” she asked, her voice a soft purr.

I nodded again, unsure how else to respond. Her chuckle was low and melodic, sending a shiver down my spine. Without waiting for an invitation, she opened the door and stepped inside, her movements as smooth as flowing water.

Once the door closed behind us, I found my voice. “Why are you here?” I asked, my tone wary. “You don’t know anything about me.”

She turned back to me, her expression playful yet enigmatic. Raising a finger to her lips, she shushed me gently before stepping closer. “Oh, but I do,” she said, her smile revealing the faintest hint of sharp teeth. “You’re the funniest and most interesting part of this entire tournament’s story. You and Burai? That whole drama? It’s like something out of a myth. Two creators of great stories and characters… and then Burai stabs you in the back, both literally and metaphorically. And now you’re out for revenge? It’s perfect. You couldn’t write a better narrative.”

I sighed, her words cutting deeper than I expected. “That’s not entirely true,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “Burai and I were good friends—or at least, I thought we were. Then something happened. I don’t even know what. Maybe I said something he didn’t like, or maybe I pissed off the wrong person. Whatever it was, he stopped talking to me out of nowhere.

“I could’ve handled that,” I continued, my voice growing sharper. “But then he goes around airing his grievances to everyone but me. And then—then—he stabs me in the back. I’m not letting that slide. It’s bullshit, and I hate it.”

Mei’s laughter burst forth, loud and unrestrained, as if I’d just delivered the punchline to the world’s funniest joke. She doubled over, clutching her sides, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “That’s even funnier,” she said between breaths. “So let me get this straight—you’re facing off against some of the world’s best fighters just to be petty?”

I shrugged, feeling a little defensive. “Pretty much.”

She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, a smirk still playing on her lips. “You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?”

“Oh, I know,” I replied, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “In my defense, I told Hulk to just put me in against Burai early on so I wouldn’t screw up the tournament for everyone else. But no, he wouldn’t do it. And now I’m four victories in, and more than half the contestants are out. So yeah, I look like even more of a jackass.”

Mei shook her head, her laughter fading into a softer chuckle. Her eyes, however, remained sharp, as if she was reading deeper into me than I was comfortable with.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said, though there was a strange note of admiration in her voice.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered, slumping into a chair.

She studied me in silence for a moment, her playful demeanor softening into something gentler. “You know, Dio,” she began, her voice quieter now, “you might think this is all about vengeance, but maybe it’s about something more. Something you haven’t admitted to yourself yet.”

I frowned, her words catching me off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She leaned forward, her movements deliberate, her golden eyes locking onto mine. “Revenge might be your excuse, but it’s not your purpose.” She smiled again, enigmatic and knowing. “You’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

Mei then got up and approached me before kissed me as she did she wrapped her plush thighs around my waist and all semblance of self-control or restraint left as soon as she put my hands on her ass. We broke the kiss and she slid her panties down from her skirt.

“Naughty boy,”Mei cooed as I took her top off, before bringing me in for a sloppy kiss. Her tongue wrapped around mine like an anaconda trying to suffocate mine and I was totally into it. When she broke the kiss she elegantly uncoiled from around me and began to strip fully. She smiled as she led me to my bedroom as if she had done a thousand times.

We were both fully nude by the time we both entered the room. Mei pranced around my room wearing only her teasing smirk. Her body was even more insane bare. Full ripe breasts, a plump ass you could bounce coins off and the plushest thighs I have ever seen. My dick throbbed witnessing such a vixen. I closed the distance with another kiss. She purred at the control she had over me. I wrap a hesitant hand around her thigh and Mei goes berserk as she spreads her legs and coils her hands around me like a snake and pulls me in closer. “Fuck I gasp as she coils herself around me tighter and tighter. She whispers in my ear.

“Im not letting go until you pass out.” she smiles as she leglocks me before having my cock embedded in her pussy. I groan as I bottom out. Mei moans before grinding against my crotch. I lift her from the bed and her coils tighten around me as I thrust in and out of her. She is ungodly tight but so fucking wet. Her pussy drools almost hungrily as she takes me in and out of her lower gluttonous gullet. Her body snakes around mine as she whispers more and more filth into my ears. She smiles as I thrust in and out of her.

Somehow she seems to get tighter I groaned as her pussy constricts my cock.

“Fuck you're suffocatingly tight,” I groan. Mei smiles then says

“I am! Now Cum!” her voice was commanding and I acquiesce exploding inside of her. Mei’s greedy pussy milks me for all I'm worth. She forces my mouth on her full tits and oh my fucking god she tastes amazing the salt of her sweat congrats the sweetness of whatever thing she’s wearing. It’s spicy and reminds me of cinnamon. As I devour her breasts I can’t enough, so I suck and I suck. As she coils tighter around me she moans in ecstasy. I groan as I flip her over to get a view of that plump ass. Mei yelps

“Oh how brutish… more!” she pleads so I give her more. I bend her over before spanking her.

I barely can hold on as we spend the rest of the night fucking, and fucking, until I black out.

I woke up in a mild haze. Mei’s body strewn against mine. As I stirred Mei smiled at me and said, “Fuck babe you were an animal last night,” my mind raced as Mei kissed me on my cheek before saying, “lets get ready.”

I nodded and we were off.

After getting breakfast, Mei and I sat on a bench overlooking the arena grounds. The morning sun painted the sky in hues of orange and gold, and the chatter of early spectators drifted in the air. Mei had insisted we come here, claiming it was the perfect spot to “reflect.” Whatever that meant.

She took a long sip from her drink, her eyes watching the arena as if sizing it up. “So,” she began, her voice light but probing, “what’s the plan? If you make it to the last battle, and it’s you versus Burai… and you win?”

I leaned back, stretching my legs out in front of me. “That’s the plan. I win. End of story.”

Mei turned to face me, raising an eyebrow. “End of story? Come on, Dio, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“Why not?” I countered. “I get my revenge, put him in his place, and then I’m done. No more tournaments, no more fighting. I go back to my quiet little life, just like I planned.”

She tilted her head, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle she was trying to solve. “You really think it’s going to be that simple?”

“It’s not complicated,” I said, shrugging. “He betrayed me. He deserves to pay for it. Once that’s done, there’s nothing keeping me here.”

Mei set her drink down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Okay, but what happens after you beat him? You think all this—” she gestured broadly at the arena, the crowds, the tournament—“just goes away? People already see you as this larger-than-life figure. If you take down Burai, you’ll be a legend. You think they’ll let you disappear after that?”

I frowned, her words sinking in. I didn’t want to be a legend. I didn’t want the fame, the attention, or any of it. All I wanted was to settle the score and move on. But deep down, I knew she had a point.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I muttered. “I just wanted to fight Burai. That’s it.”

Mei smiled softly, her tone gentler now. “I know. But the world doesn’t work like that. You can’t control what people see in you, Dio. And if you win… well, you’re going to have to decide what kind of legend you want to be.”

I looked away, the weight of her words settling over me. “I don’t care about being a legend,” I said quietly. “I just want to be free of all this.”

She reached out and placed a hand on my arm, her touch grounding me. “Maybe you should think about what ‘freedom’ really means to you. Because right now, it sounds like you’re running from something. And I don’t think beating Burai is going to fix that.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. She wasn’t wrong. As much as I hated to admit it, this wasn’t just about Burai. It was about everything that had led me here—everything I’d lost, everything I’d buried.

Mei gave me a small, knowing smile, as if she could see the gears turning in my head. “Take it from someone who’s watched you fight, Dio. You’ve got more in you than just anger. Maybe it’s time you figure out what else is driving you.”

I sighed, leaning back on the bench. “You’ve got a lot of opinions for someone who just met me.”

She grinned, a playful glint in her eye. “What can I say? I’m invested in the story. And you, my friend, are the most interesting character in it.”

Despite myself, I chuckled. “You really think this is all just some big story, huh?”

“Of course,” she said, her grin widening. “And the best stories? They’re the ones where the hero figures out who they really are.”

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m no hero, Mei.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms with a confident smirk. “We’ll see about that.”

Mei leaned into my shoulder, her breathing slowing to a soft, steady rhythm. It didn’t take long for me to realize she had fallen asleep. The warmth of her body, the steady rise and fall of her chest, and the silence of the room worked their magic, and soon enough, I drifted off as well.

The next thing I distinctly remember is waking up to the sensation of a massive hand lightly shaking my shoulder. Blinking groggily, I opened my eyes to see Hulk looming over me, his expression a mix of sternness and warmth. His sheer size filled the space, but it was his knowing look that caught my attention. He wasn’t angry; if anything, his eyes carried a strange kindness that felt out of place, given my usual interactions with him.

“Good to see you so relaxed, Diobronto,” he said, his deep voice tinged with amusement. “You’re usually so uptight.”

I groaned, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Mei stirred next to me but didn’t wake immediately. Stretching, I looked up at him and muttered, “Sorry for falling asleep in the arena.”

Hulk waved off my apology with a chuckle. “No need to apologize. You’re one of the few fighters here who understands the point of this whole thing. You get what this tournament is really about.”

I squinted at him, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. “And what exactly is it about, big guy?”

He gave me a look that was both knowing and paternal, crossing his massive arms as he spoke. “This tournament isn’t just about who can throw the hardest punch or land the flashiest move. It’s about building something bigger—creating the next generation of heroes. And whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve become the aspirational everyman. The crowd loves you because you represent something they can believe in.”

I frowned, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “I’m not a hero,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I’m here for revenge. That’s it.”

Hulk laughed, the sound booming and filling the room. Mei, now fully awake, joined in with a chuckle as she leaned back against the wall, her sharp eyes watching the exchange with interest.

“Whether you think you’re a hero or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you act like one,” Hulk countered. “Despite your whole ‘revenge plot,’ you carry yourself with integrity. You’re upstanding, moral—well, mostly—and you respect your opponents. You understand what this tournament is trying to achieve, and you lean into it. You play the part of a hero without even realizing it.”

I stared at him, incredulous. “How? How exactly am I playing the part of a hero?”

He grinned, pointing a massive finger at me. “Remember that kid who came up to you after your last fight? He asked you how he could be like you, and you didn’t brush him off or tell him something dumb. You told him to eat his vegetables, exercise, brush his teeth, and finish his homework. That’s the kind of stuff heroes do, even when they don’t have to. You inspire people, Dio. Families come to watch your fights because they see someone worth rooting for.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Really? That many people care?”

Hulk nodded. “You’re the kind of fighter they bring their kids to see. You’ve got the strength, sure, but more importantly, you’ve got the heart. That’s why the crowd loves you.”

Mei chose that moment to chime in, her voice sultry as she leaned forward. “It’s also why I can’t get enough of you,” she purred, her tone teasing yet laced with sincerity. Her piercing gaze locked onto mine, making her intentions abundantly clear.

Hulk barked out a laugh, clearly amused by her boldness. “See? Even she knows you’re a hero. And I need you to stay in this tournament, Dio. You’re too good at this to throw it all away for some petty revenge. Heroes like you don’t just win fights—they give people something to believe in.”

I sighed, leaning back against the wall as I processed his words. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” I admitted. “I just wanted to fight Burai and be done with it.”

“And yet here you are,” Hulk said, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder with surprising gentleness. “You’re here for more than just yourself, whether you like it or not. Don’t waste it.”

Mei smirked, tilting her head as she watched me. “Guess that means you’ve got to stick around, hero.”

I glanced between the two of them—Hulk’s unwavering belief and Mei’s playful admiration—and sighed. Maybe they were right. Maybe there was more to this than I wanted to admit. But that didn’t mean I had to like it. After hulk’s little pep talk he got up and said,

“Youre next fight is Burai. I do hope you make the right choice after,”

A rush of emotions and thoughts go through my head as Hulk and Mei laugh while Hulk leaves.

Here was everything I ever wanted but at what cost?

As the door closed behind Hulk, the room fell silent. Mei shifted closer to me, her gaze soft yet inquisitive. I could feel the weight of the moment settling over us. Burai. The name echoed in my head like a drumbeat. I had fought so hard, clawed my way through this tournament, just for a shot at him. And now, the fight was finally within reach.

“You okay?” Mei’s voice broke the quiet, her tone gentle but probing.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. I mean… this is what I wanted, right? Burai’s next. Everything I’ve done so far has been for this moment. But now…” My voice trailed off as I stared at the floor, trying to piece together what I was feeling.

“But now you’re wondering if it’s worth it?” she finished for me, her expression unreadable.

I looked up at her, surprised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

She shrugged with a small smile. “You’re not as hard to read as you think, Dio. You might act all tough and brooding, but deep down, you’re a lot more thoughtful than you let on. You care, even when you pretend you don’t.”

Her words struck a chord, and I found myself nodding slowly. “It’s just… Hulk said some things that I can’t shake. About being a hero, about people looking up to me. I didn’t ask for any of that. I’m not trying to inspire anyone. I just want to settle the score with Burai and move on with my life. Is that so bad?”

Mei tilted her head, studying me intently. “It’s not bad, but maybe it’s not that simple anymore. Whether you like it or not, you’ve become something bigger than yourself. People see you as a symbol, Dio. A guy who stands up, fights hard, and doesn’t back down—even when the odds are stacked against him. That matters to people. It matters to me.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she leaned back, resting her head against the wall, her eyes thoughtful.

“What happens after you fight him?” she asked quietly.

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s your plan? Let’s say you beat Burai. You get your revenge, the crowd goes wild, and the tournament wraps up. What happens next? Do you just disappear? Go back to your ‘little corner of the world,’ as you put it?”

Her words hit harder than I expected. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. All my focus had been on reaching this point, on confronting Burai. What came after was a blank slate.

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I thought beating him would be enough. That it would give me closure.”

“And now?” she pressed, her gaze unwavering.

I exhaled heavily, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “Now I’m not so sure. Hulk’s right—this tournament has become something bigger than me and Burai. I don’t know if I can just walk away from it all without feeling like I let everyone down.”

Mei reached out and placed a hand on mine, her touch warm and steady. “You don’t have to decide right now,” she said softly. “But when the time comes, just remember that you’re more than your grudge. You’re more than what Burai did to you. You’ve already proven that.”

I looked at her, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt or insincerity. But all I saw was genuine belief—belief in me.

“Thanks,” I said after a long pause. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but… it helps to hear that.”

#k pop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #gravure smut #gravure fanfic #mei washio #cignature #ive yujin #ahn yujin #jeewon fanfic #yujin fanfic #jeewon #gravure idol fanfic #mei washio smut #gravure idol x oc #chowon fanfiction

100 notes · View notes

biblical-chronicles · 18 days ago

Text

Mirrored

___________________________________

where Liam can't help but notice how similar Lennon's mate is to him.

___________________________________

You were supposed to be heading to some event, a gig one of Lennon's mates was playing, but as the two of you approached the train station, Lennon suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Ah, shit.” he muttered, patting his jacket pockets and pulling them inside out.

“What?” you asked, already sensing something was off.

“Left my keys at dad’s studio,” Lennon groaned, shoving his hands into his hair. “Can we swing by? Won’t take long.”

“Yeah, course.” you said, brushing it off like it was no big deal.

The studio wasn’t far, and Lennon texted his dad on the way to let him know you’d be popping in. When you got there, he led the way through a few doors and corridors until you reached the rehearsal room. The muffled sound of guitars and chatter leaked out into the hallway.

Inside, the room was a mix of cables, amps, and the low hum of conversation. Liam was leaning back in a chair, mid-conversation with one of the bandmates, his arms folded and his trademark grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright,” Liam greeted, his tone casual but curious. “What’s all this about then? Thought you were out.”

“Yeah, we were,” Lennon started, running a hand through his hair. “We went to—uh—this gig, right? Well didn't actually go yet, just heading and then—”

You groaned, cutting him off with a wave of your hand. “Long story short, he’s a melt and forgot his keys.”

Liam barked out a laugh, his grin widening as he leaned forward. “A melt, is he?”

“Fully,” you said with a smirk. “Lucky I’m here to keep him in check.”

Lennon sighed, shaking his head. “I was getting there.”

“No, you weren’t.” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from one of the bandmates.

Liam leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. “Right, so you’re the one keepin’ him on track, are ya?”

“Someone’s got to,” you replied with mock seriousness.

“Fair play,” he said, glancing at Lennon. “You could do worse for a minder, kid.”

Lennon ignored the jab and motioned toward his dad. “Keys?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Liam dug into his pocket, fishing them out before tossing them across the room. Lennon caught them, muttering a quick “cheers” under his breath.

“Alright, we’re off,” Lennon announced, already heading toward the door.

“Finally,” you teased as you turned to follow him. “Nice meeting you lot.”

“Likewise.” a little choir called after you, but Liam stayed quiet, his lips quirking into something between a smile and a smirk as you left.

The door clicked shut, leaving a moment of quiet behind.

“She’s got you written all over her,” one of the bandmates said, breaking the silence with a knowing grin.

Liam rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “Behave.”

“Nah, I mean it,” the bandmate pressed. “She’s got that energy, must be a handful.”

“And she didn’t take any of Lennon’s shite,” another chimed in, shaking his head with a laugh. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

Liam didn’t bite, keeping his face neutral, though the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. He reached for his water bottle, twisting the cap off slowly.

“Oh, he knows.” the first bandmate added, leaning forward with a smirk.

“Pack it in.” Liam muttered, his tone clipped, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. He took a long swig of water, hoping to get rid of the strange mix of emotions rising in his chest, but as he set the bottle down, his mind was already drifting.

They weren’t wrong. That was the problem. You did remind him of himself—or at least, the younger version of him, the one who had bounded into the world full of confidence, not giving a toss about what anyone thought. He hadn’t seen that kind of energy in someone for years, and now here it was, practically bursting out of you.

It should’ve been funny. Maybe even flattering. But instead, it left him feeling... off. A little too aware of you, the way your voice had carried through the room, quick, sharp and funny, leaving everyone hanging on your words.

And for one brief, dangerous moment, Liam had let his thoughts wander somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t have gone. Because you weren’t just confident and sharp—you were gorgeous, too. And not in some surface-level way, but in a way that got under his skin. The kind of gorgeous that came from how you carried yourself, how you spoke, how you laughed like you didn’t care who was listening.

What the hell was he doing? You were Lennon’s mate, for Christ’s sake. And you were young—far younger than him, with your whole life ahead of you.

Liam rubbed a hand over his face, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He could practically hear himself, years ago, sitting in some interview banging on about how he’d never settle for anything less than someone who could keep up with him. And for a while, he’d searched for that—someone who could meet him on his level, who wouldn’t back down from his sharp tongue or his big personality. But after a while, he’d given up. Figured maybe that person didn’t exist, or if she did, she wasn’t looking for him.

And now, here you were.

He shook his head, scolding himself. It was ridiculous. Stupid. He had no business thinking like that, not about you. You were Lennon’s mate, for god’s sake. Off-limits didn’t even begin to cover it.

The days after the studio visit passed quickly, but your thoughts had a stubborn tendency to circle back to Liam. You could still hear his voice, see the way he’d watched you with a spark of interest that felt impossible to ignore. And yet, every time you caught yourself thinking about him, guilt crept in. Lennon was your mate—someone you genuinely valued—and the last thing you wanted was for him to think you were taking advantage of that friendship to get to Liam.

So, you told yourself to stop. To leave it alone. But, of course, that resolve didn’t last long.

One evening, Lennon invited you round his gaff to check out some new gear he’d picked up. “Got this mad new pedal,” he’d said, his excitement palpable. “Come round, yeah? You’ll love it.”

You agreed without hesitation, and by the time you arrived Lennon was already fiddling with his guitar in the living room, the instrument hooked up to an elaborate setup of wires and pedals. You perched on the arm of the couch, watching him with a grin as he experimented with different effects.

“Sounds good.” you said after a particularly impressive riff.

“Yeah, well, give me a minute and I’ll make it sound better.” Lennon replied, his focus entirely on the guitar.

A few minutes later, you offered to grab drinks for the two of you. “You’re all right with water, yeah?” you called over your shoulder as you headed toward the kitchen.

“Yeah, cheers.” he replied, already lost in his music again.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you weren’t expecting to find Liam there. But there he was, leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone with a cup of tea in hand. He glanced up when he heard you, his eyebrows raising slightly in recognition.

“Alright?” he said, setting his phone down.

“Alright,” you replied, moving toward the fridge. “What’s with the tea? Shouldn’t you be on something stronger by now?”

He smirked, taking a sip. “Pace myself, don’t I? Can’t all be chaos all the time.”

“Shame,” you teased, grabbing two bottles of water. “Would’ve thought you’d perfected the art of chaos by now.”

“Perfected it years ago, love.” he shot back, his grin widening.

You leaned against the counter opposite him, the bottles of water in your hand momentarily forgotten. The banter came easily, almost like the both of you had known each other for years.

“What’re you doing lurking around here anyway?” Liam asked, his tone teasing but his gaze sharp.

“Came to see your son’s latest masterpiece,” you replied, motioning toward the living room. “Apparently, he’s got some new pedal that’s going to change the game.”

Liam let out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s been banging on about that all week. Surprised he hasn’t roped you into being his roadie yet.”

“Give it time,” you said, grinning. “Knowing Lennon, he’s probably drawing up a contract as we speak.”

The conversation could’ve gone on forever, but eventually, you remembered the water in your hand and the mate waiting for you in the other room. “Right,” you said, pushing off the counter. “Better get back before he starts crying over being alone so long.”

“Yeah, can’t have that,” Liam replied, though there was a flicker of reluctance in his expression.

You let out a laugh, feeling the atmosphere shift a little. The usual banter had turned softer, and something else lingered in the air between you both—something you didn’t quite want to acknowledge, but there it was.

You leaned against the kitchen counter again, facing him, your playful smile giving way to something more genuine.

He took a half step forward, the space closing between you as he looked down at you, his face softening. You didn’t back away, the pull of him too strong.

Before either of you could say anything, it just happened. His hand brushed against the side of your face as he leaned in, his lips catching yours in a brief, almost hesitant kiss. His breath hitched as he pulled away, his lips lingering on your bottom one for a second longer than necessary.

He looked at you, eyes wide, lips slightly parted like he was processing the same thing you were.

Your heart raced in your chest as you gathered your thoughts, trying to find the right words. You let out a quiet exhale, trying to steady yourself.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me.” you said softly, barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud could somehow make the tension between you both feel less charged.

Without giving him time to respond, you turned on your heel and left the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, gripping the water bottles tighter as if that would somehow steady your nerves. "Shit." you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as you made your way back to Lennon, determined to act like nothing had happened. It was wrong—so wrong—but it had felt so impossibly right. Your body had moved on autopilot, and now, all you could do was try to play it cool.

“Finally,” Lennon teased as you handed him the bottles. “What, did you have to climb a mountain to get these?”

You forced a laugh, masking the storm in your head. “Yeah, yeah. I got them in the end though, didn’t I?”

The evening carried on as usual. You and Lennon fell into the familiar rhythm of chatting, joking, and messing around with the new gear he was showing off.

By the time you started packing up, the sun had long been set. You slung your bag over your shoulder and turned to Lennon with a smile. “Alright, mate, I’m off. Thanks for having me over.”

“Anytime.” he said, walking you to the door. He gave you a quick hug and opened the door for you, grinning as he waved you off.

As you stepped outside, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Liam. He was standing behind Lennon, gesturing wildly with his hands, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. Your heart skipped a beat as you squinted, making out the motion of his hand pointing outside and then back to you, as if to say, wait for me.

You almost laughed at how ridiculous it was. But instead, you nodded subtly, pretending you didn’t notice Lennon’s cluelessness. “Night, Lennon.” you called over your shoulder as you walked down the path, turning the corner toward the fence where you could stay out of sight.

You stood there, hidden by the bushes, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know why you stayed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. There was something about it—about him—that had you rooted to the spot. And, if you were being honest, there was something undeniably thrilling about the whole thing, Liam Gallagher quite literally sneaking out of his own house just to talk to you.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the door creaking open, followed by footsteps on the gravel. You held your breath, and then he appeared, looking around before spotting you tucked behind the fence.

“Well played, love.” he said, stopping just in front of you.

You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. “What can I say? I’m observant. Plus, you’re not exactly subtle.”

“Not subtle?” he scoffed, though his cheeks flushed slightly. “You’re the one who stayed.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Can you blame me? You’re out here breaking your neck to get me alone.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, stepping closer. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you make eyes at me.”

That did it. His cheeks turned a deeper red, as he shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair as if to buy himself time. “Yeah, well…” he mumbled, clearly flustered.

It was almost endearing. Almost. Smiling softly, you reached out, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him toward you. His breath hitched just before your lips met.

This time, it was deeper, more certain, the initial hesitation melting away as he responded with equal energy. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the tension in his grip, the way he was holding himself back, as if he couldn’t believe this was entirely real.

When you finally broke apart, his lips were slightly swollen, his breaths uneven. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re somethin’ else, aren’t ya?”

You grinned, running your thumb along the collar of his shirt. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ve been clocking it for a while.” He paused, his tone growing more serious. “So… where does this go, then?”

You looked up at him, your own nerves flaring for a moment before you pushed them aside. “How about we take it one step at a time? See where it goes.”

His smile returned, softer this time. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

___________________________________

brilliant request from the one and only @shes-thunderstormssss, never disappoints, thank you so much love hope you like it !!

all the best tropes in one xx

#oasis x reader #oasis one shots #oasis band #britpop x f!reader #britpop x reader #britpop fanfiction #liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher x reader smut #liam gallagher one shots #liam gallagher fanfiction #liam gallagher x f!reader #liam gallagher x y/n #liam gallagher x you #dilf liam gallagher x reader #oasis fanfiction #oasis fic

60 notes · View notes

sinsinsininning · 1 year ago

Text

A little bit softer

Chapter 6

Eustass Kid x crewmate!fem!Reader

TW: drinking, gambling, swearing

A/N: this one is really short bc I’m a little run down from life rn. Next one will be a bit spicier

Also I have no idea why I kept Jon around this long, he’s a very generic looking guy, I picture him as the sorta boring hot a lot of people get away with.

—————

The bar is loud.

You slow down on the drinks before departing from Kid, your stool quickly taken up by a pretty lady who draped herself over him. He didn’t bother to shake her off, she’d run off eventually, he was still in a foul mood.

Hip and House were in a booth in the far corner, watching Quincy and Pomp dance to the heavy music. You slip in beside them, leaning against Hip as your lack of sleep and booze caught up with you. House laughs, sharp and high like a fox.

“You look fucked.” She giggles, you swat at her across the table, but the blow was half hearted. Hip pulls you back to lean on her again.

“Maybe you should head home?” She suggests. “It’s not that late, you could catch up on some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m beat but I’m still…” You trail off, tapping your fingers against the table. You didn’t know what it was but it’s like you were wired. Maybe it was the drinks or the bartender’s flirting.

Or Kid calling you pretty. Plenty pretty at that.

You decide it must be the booze and the bartender. House rakes her eyes up and down you, grinning.

“You look antsy, got something on your mind?” She teases.

“Yeah, I’m feeling kinda,” You glance at the bar, hoping to catch sight of Jon. “I think I’m gonna try to fuck the bartender.” You finally announce, Hip spits her drink out, you flinch away from the spray.

“What the fuck?” She shouts, wiping her mouth, eyes wide. House is cackling across from you, worse yet all the noise attracts Quincy and Pomp back to the table. You flush under the attention. “Why the fuck would you fuck him?”

“Wait! Who’s she fucking?” Quincy raises her hand and waves it.

“Yeah, I’m lost.” Pomp chimes in, you smack his arm and try to push him out of the booth.

“The bartender!” Hip shouts.

“Why is it so shocking? He’s hot and he was flirting with me! I just have to ask him and it’ll be fine!” You were drunk, no doubt, because you would never talk about this sober.

No matter how much you flirted and joked, there was always a line of seriousness and you never went over it. Until now.

“You’ve got so many options though!” Hip whines. “Your outta his league.” You shook your head and glare at her.

“That’s what Kid said!” You gesture towards the bar again. “Like am I blind? The guy is hot. You’re all blind.” The group bursts into giggles as House finally stops laughing.

“Wait Kid said what?” She asks, smacking Quincy’s arm to shut her up.

“I said that I thought the bartender was cute and he said I’m too pretty for him, or something like that.” You slur out the words like it was obvious.

“Kid called you pretty?” Hip gasped, you stare at her and nod once, the motion made your head swim. “Oh shit! Pay up bitches!!!” You swing your head around the table as everyone begrudgingly hands over a few Berries to the smiling blonde.

“Wha-What’s happenin’?” You hiccup. House is laughing again and you try to kick her but miss and stub your toe hard. “Fuck!”

“Nothing!” Hip answers quickly. “Sooooo you think the bartenders cute?” She half stands up so she can see him better, he sees her and starts to come over, assuming she wants to order.

“Oh fuck,” Pomp whisper shouts. “We gotta get rid of him.” You nudge him again.

“Why?”

“No reason!” Hip pulls you back to her as Jon arrives at the table, he smiles widely at you and you wave back.

“You guys need another round?” He asks.

“Yes! Another round of beer please!” House shouts, louder than she actually needs to, a nervous smile on her face. Jon glances at you once more.

“What about you, gorgeous? Beer or a refill of your rum and coke?” He’s only focused on you, it makes you flush, the attention is nice.

“Beers fine-”

“She taken!” Quincy shouts, then covers her mouth.

“Oh?”

“No I’m not. What?” You mind is slow to catch up, scrunching your face at her. Jon laughs a little and shifts on his feet.

“She definitely is!” House adds in.

“Yeah? Is it the angry redhead at the counter?” He grins at you.

“Kid? No he’s my-”

“Yup! That’s him!” Pomp is the one who cuts you off this time. Jon keeps grinning at your confused face, like he was in on a joke about you. You frowned harder now.

“That makes sense, he was pretty insistent on paying for your drinks earlier.” He whistled lowly, you can barely hear it. “Surprised he hasn’t decked me yet.”

“Wait he paid for your drinks?” House asks, eyes wide, you nod slowly still confused. “When?”

“Uh earlier?”

“Before or after he called you pretty?”

“Before?”

House and Quincy let out a whoop, high fiving each other. Hip grumbles as she fished out the Berries they’d just given her back out and to their outstretched palms. The pair cheer again and split the cash.

“Well lemme go grab those drinks. Be right back.” Jon says as he’s waking away. You stare after him while your group congratulate each other.

“Why’d you say I’m taken?” You ask the table.

“Well… just to protect you, ya know?” House says.

“You’re drunk and we don’t want him creeping on you.” Hip rubs your back and you glare at her. Sure you’re drunk but not nearly as much as they normally get, you’ve seen all of them run off with someone blitzed out of their mind before. Why’d it be any different for you?

“I wanted to fuck him even when I was sober though.” You say, but the group pretends not to hear you as Jon returns. He places your drink last, giving you one last wink before leaving.

You get up after him, stepping over Pomp who tries to block you, but you push past him. It takes you two steps to catch up with Jon, you grab him arm to twist him around.

“Hey!” You flinch at your own shout, not meaning to be so loud. He’s lost the flirty smirk, his face neutral. “I’m not taken and I- I am interested.”

“You sure?” He asks unconvinced, but his eyes are lit up now. “You’re friends seem pretty sure you’re not.”

“I don’t know why they did that. I’m not with Kid or anyone else.” You state firmly, you don’t really want to ask him to bed outright, but at least you can clarify your status.

“I get it,” He chuckles and you move a little closer to hear him. “They’re looking out for you. But I’m 93% sure they’re rooting for you and the grumpy guy.” He gestures subtly behind you, though you’re anything but as you whip your head to look. Kid is watching with hard eyes, a look he usual reserved for when a fight is about to break out. The pretty lady from earlier is still there, leaning over him.

You laugh when you turn back to him, shaking your head slowly at his behavior. He’s got a hottie for the night, why couldn’t you get your own?

“I don’t know why they’re like this.” You sigh. “But like I said, I’m interested if you are.” That was as outright as you could say it, red cheeks betraying your embarrassment.

“My shift is over at 1. Clear your head and if you’re still around, I’ll come to you.” He offers and you’re a little grateful you have some time to sober up.

“1 o’clock. Gotcha!” You’re grinning back at him now. He nods and turns to go back to work, then pauses to look back at you with a grin.

“Oh and just so you’re aware. I’m pretty sure your friends are betting on your love life.” He throws out then strides off, you almost laugh. Instead you turn back to your group, they’re all watching, tense and ready to pounce.

“Stop betting on me!” You shout as you return, smack each one on the head as you sit.

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #one piece kid #eustass x reader #kid x reader #kid pirates

103 notes · View notes

byllsbytch · 7 months ago

Text

A Surprise Visit

I was at work yet again, it felt like I never left. I started my shift off the bat at the registers having to force a smile despite getting abused by customers. I stood at the registers serving, repeating the same overused script; “Hi, how are you? Would you like a bag? Are you apart of our membership? Cash or Card?”

I’d been working for 3 hours so far and my break was coming up, I'd kept glancing at the time in the corner of my screen, excited to step away from the repetiveness. It was fine because once I came back from my break another girl was coming in to cover me from the registers and I could begin to clean and mind my business. With such a repetative job i find myself just day dreaming most of the time. But it’s ok, makes the day go fast.

I looked again at the clock and seen I have 5 minutes till I can go on my break.

5 minutes till Freedom.

The queue seem to grow longer as I sighed and called the next customer to my register. In the background I'd seen one of my coworkers coming up to serve and a felt a grin tug at my lips, it was now officially real that I didn't have long till my break. She signed in and instantly started taking through customers.

“Hey, Y/N it’s all good, I can take it from here!” She chirped.

“Oh really?!” I replied excited then shook my head, “I have 5 minutes I can help shorten the queue."

“Nah, just go, I got it sorted.”

I smiled and logged off after serving one of the customers. I walked to the tearoom and grabbed my bag, heading out the store to go grab my Saturday treat - a coffee and muffin.

I kept my head down as I walked out of the store trying not to get held back by a customer asking for help. While looking at my phone trying to avoid eye contact I’d seen Gustavs name glow on my screen.

Before I opened the message I quickly glanced up at to make sure I wouldn’t run into the random massage chairs scattered around the mall, as it surely wouldn’t be the first time. After putting my head down after the quick glance, I immediately shot my head back up to search for the familar face that caught my eye. I gasped loudly as I seen Tom and Georg sitting in the massage chairs both of them in a deep state of relaxation.

“Oh my God!” I yelled, running to the pair with my arms out, “What are you doing here! You’re supposed to be on tour!”

Both boys immediately jumped up from their seats.

“Y/N! We’ve been waiting for you!” Georg exclaimed.

”What the heck guys! I’ve missed you so damn bad.”

The boys embraced me one at a time. Tom closed the space between us, holding me a little bit longer, I intertwined my fingers into his locs and burried my head into his neck taking in his scent that I so dearly missed. Georg stood awkwardly, clearing his throat to remind us he was there. We quickly pecked eachother on the cheek before breaking the hug. Tom continued to linger with his arm prompt along my shoulders.

“Gustav actually just texted me! Where is he? Where is Bill?”

Tom began, “Oh Gustav? He’s actually-“

Before Tom could finish a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around me.

I turned around into the envelope and seen Gustav with a smirk on his face.

“Oh hellooo!” He sang.

I swung my arms back around him and squeezed him tightly as we gave eachother a kiss on the cheek.

“Gustav!” I chirped.

"Long time no see.” He chuckled, behind him stood Bill who just waved and smiled.

I pushed past Gustav as Bill put his arms out to me. I dove my head into his chest and he squeezed me tight. We kissed eachother on both cheeks - a custom I long held with only him.

“I missed my bestie,” I hushed into his ear.

“I missed you too.” He croaked, holding his throat in discomfort.

“Shit! What’s up with your voice?!” I asked concerned which earnt a eyeroll from Bill.

“No seriously why are you guys here? You’re supposed to be on tour!”

“Just to go shopping, you know?” Gustav chimed. I playfully punched him in the arm.

“Just pulling your leg, Bill’s fucked his voice doing something.”

I looked at Bill concerned and he nodded at me.

“He has to go for surgery tonight, doctors over in france says hes got some kind of throat infection.” Georg chimed in.

“Oh my goodness! Are you ok? How did it happen? How are you supposed to treat it? What’s happening with the tour?!”

“One question at a time.” He joked with his raspy voice. “I’m fine, I’ve just been straining my chords too much, I just gotta let it rest but for now the tour is post-poned.”

“That’s a shame, is there anything I can do?”

Bill shook his head with a defeated smile.

“Well, how have the rest of you been?”

We spent my whole lunch break walking around and catching up. The band of boys were continuously being stopped by fans to take photos and sign autographs.

We didn’t really get up to much shopping while walking around.

My lunch break was quickly drawing to a close before I had to head back to work.

“Hey look, it's been absolutely awesome being able to catch up with you guys, but I need to start heading back, my break is almost over. I’ll definetly come over later though when I’m finished.”

“Just say you need to go home sick.” Tom suggested as if it was plain obvious.

“Tom! You know I can’t besides we’re short staffed and I need the money.”

“I’ll give you money, how much are you making for this shift?”

“Pft don’t worry about it because I’m not leaving. I still see you guys after work. As long as you don’t go clubbing… I cannot be bothered.”

Bill smirked.

"Don't get any ideas!" Gustav called.

“What girl wouldn’t want to skip work to hang out with the Tokio Hotel?” Tom said shocked.

“We’ll just spend the rest of your shift with you!” Bill announced.

“Seriously!? That’s so sweet of you to offer but I think you need to rest up and I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“We’ll help clean! Let me talk to your manager. She’ll come around.”

“Yeah but what about all the people coming up for pictures?”

“It’ll boost the business, have more customers come in! You’re not getting rid of us Y/N.”

We started in the girlswear department; tidying all the racks and tables with folded shirts on them. The work was getting done surprisingly quickly, the boys were surely not mucking about.

Tom brought over a little denim skirt and pink top with minnie mouse on it. He smiled proudly.

“Look at how cute this would be on our little girl! With little piggy tails and pink hair ties!”

I looked up at him and fell even more in love.

“Our little girl?” Bill puzzled. “Puh- lease! You better keep your dick away from Y/N, that would be the end of the group.”

“Woah relax it’s a cute little fit and you know I want a daughter. Just looking at Y/N makes me want to have a daughter.” He stared me down with a smirk.

He then shook his head as to shake away his dirty thoughts of me. “But man… being in this store. Makes it hard.”

“Ok, noted, don’t let Tom in clothing stores, makes him was to have kids” Gustav joked.

“I just think Bill is jealous that he can’t be Tom’s and Y/N’s little girl.” Georg remarked.

“Or maybe he’s just afraid of losing Tom.” Gustav shrugged his shoulders.

Bill gasped in disbelief. “More like losing Y/N! Could you imagine loosing your bestfriend to this stud!”

I shook my head with a grin as I continued to fold the shirts neatly onto the table.

“Anyways, I’ve been meaning to ask you Y/N, The designer has really fucked my outfits, they look nothing like the drawings I sent through and approved, so because I’m like, you bestest best friend, could you please make up just a few fits for me. I kinda have already sent you the sketches.”

“Bill! Just because I work at a clothing store doesn’t mean I’m a costume designer! I haven’t touched a sewing machine since our home ec class.”

“Yeah well, it couldn’t be too hard, I just don’t have the time to be going to different countries for fittings, plus it would take to long to come all the way from the other side of the world!”

“Where is the other side of the world?”

“Italy.” He cheekily tried to avoid eye-contact.

I raised an eyebrow, “So you can’t pick it up from the next country over? Like maybe grab it on the way?”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, “Y/N I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need you to do it, please it’s just more ideal. It shouldn’t be too hard, mum used to sew us halloween costumes all the time!”

“Get your mother to sew it then!”

He threw a palm to his forehead and shut his eyes.

“Ok! Fine, but don’t expect it to be top tier gucci quality, I’ve warned you.”

He jumped nodding, “Yes, Yes! Oh thank you so much, you’ll have plenty of time while I recover to get it sorted, this is why I love ya!”

I crossed my arms and sighed.

Fuckin good luck to me.

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #fanfic #fluff #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel x reader

35 notes · View notes

flightfoot · 13 days ago

Text

I'm watching Jentry Chau Vs. The Underworld. Kit had better come back from the dead somehow, because damn, he was done DIRTY and that was a complete waste of a character (also seriously, what was up with him in the intro, him having wings makes no sense).

Like seriously. Okay, fine, he was originally planted at Jentry's highschool in order to get close to her and drain her soul. I can see why Jentry doesn't like that. But he literally didn't have a chance to DO anything to her before he decided that he liked her, reneged on his deal with Cheng (which is an extremely dangerous thing to do), and revealed all of this to Jentry in the process of saving her life by pulling her out of a burning structure. Note that this isn't the first time she's become friends with someone who used to work for Cheng and was tasked with killing her, she met Ed via him attempting to murder her, and he only ended up partnering up with her and Flora because Cheng would have murdered him for incompetence if he went back. Yet she's fast friends with him and treats him like a little brother as soon as it's clear that he has intention of hurting her anymore.

But Kit? Nah. She yells at him for being a demon. And yeah I can get that she's sensitive to any sort of deceit, given what her grand-aunt has put her through (screw you Flora), but still. Come on.

Mostly though, I'm pissed with her for using his feelings for her to rope him into the scheme to put her powers back in the robe, flirting with him, even kissing him I think at one point, and then dumping him like yesterday's dirty laundry the next morning, explicitly because she wanted to be normal, and he wasn't normal and they couldn't have a normal relationship. She didn't get any new information about him, she knew all this stuff when she was flirting with him to obtain his help before, it's just that NOW, she doesn't need him anymore.

Like. Fine. I can get not being obligated to date him. But not when you're actively using his feelings to get what you want, and then trying to shove him to the side as soon as he wasn't useful anymore. Jentry knows how it feels to be used, and that's what she did to Kit.

If she'd been avoiding him because she found out that he'd drained qi and killed people in the past in order to eat, and that horrified her, then I'd give her that. But that's NOT why she's avoiding him. It's because she wants to avoid having anything to do with supernatural weirdness, and since she no longer has her powers (thanks to manipulating Kit into helping her remove them, endangering himself in the process, I might add), she can.

Kit shouldn't have started stalking her afterwards. I agree with that. But honestly I thought that was pretty tame, considering that she had actively lead him on in order to get him to help her before, and that he'd originally been tasked with murdering her in order to steal her powers and be gifted his own soul, which was what he really wanted, by Cheng.

Normally in these sorts of stories this would be when a character like Kit would try to murder her like he was originally tasked to, but no. Instead he just stole the robe they put her powers back into and gifted it to Cheng, since neither him nor Jentry cared to be caught in this power struggle between Flora and Cheng, and this way, Cheng could make him human so he could have a chance with Jentry again (and also that's what he wanted to begin with), and he wouldn't have to hurt Jentry in order to fulfill the deal he made.

Jentry does have decent reason to not want to talk with him, to tell him to go away and never see her again, when he shows up after everything goes to crap and he says he wants to help. Though I still think it's overkill.

And then the last time he shows up, it's because, despite Jentry telling him to go away forever, he decided to act as a body double for her in order to give her the best possible chance against Cheng, and he dies in the process. At least she's sad about it I guess?

But yeah. He's not the 100% best at handling relationships, but he does endanger himself to help Jentry multiple times, at major cost to himself.

I'm definitely maddest about Jentry manipulating him though, and then tossing him out. What the hell, hero?

#jentry chau spoilers #jentry chau vs the underworld #kit

9 notes · View notes

abiiors · 1 year ago

Text

baking autumn treats 🍪 // george daniel x reader

promptober '23 - day 12

a/n: oh bbf!george how i've missed you <3 cw: weed, flirting wc: 900

george watches her move around the kitchen, absolutely focused on the bowl in her hand. she’s wearing an old apron—brown with a little bear on the pocket that currently holds her tasting spoon and an extra spatula—while she mixes together butter and sugar.

that’s exactly why he wandered into the kitchen in the first place—when he smelled vanilla and cinnamon and things far more delicious than the cold slice of pizza in his hands. well, that and the half-smoked joint that has his head buzzing.

but she hasn’t noticed him yet. no, she’s far too busy with her eyebrows pinched in concentration and her lip caught between her teeth as she measures the ingredients. the jar of apple jelly rests precariously close to the edge of the counter. and she’s so engrossed in whatever music she’s listening to (from her old and frayed wired headphones that she’s so emotionally attached to. seriously, george has actually see her be frantic when she thought they were lost.) but he feels caught between two worlds.

in one are matty and the rest of his friends in the living room, locked in an intense round of mortal kombat. in the other is she—baking in the warm kitchen and almost waltzing to herself to the tune of whatever music is playing.

and so george keeps watching from the threshold—so enamoured that he registers it too late when she takes a dazed little twirl and nudges the jar of apple jelly. in slow motion, it falls down. shatters into a million pieces. and jelly splatters everywhere.

what’s worse however is how her face goes from having the look of excited concentration to one of pure heartbreak. so much so that he can’t help stepping forward.

“need some help?”

she looks up from the ruined remains of the glass to him, already kneeling down to pick up the pieces and salvage whatever’s left (which is barely anything if he’s being honest.)

“um… not much you can help with,” she sighs, going back to it. when george steps closer to the wreck she looks at him again. “careful with the glass. don’t need you high and bleeding in my kitchen.”

“your kitchen?” he teases and then kneels down in front of her to start picking up some of the bigger chunks.

with a slight smile she rolls her eyes. “i’m the only one in this house who actually uses it. me and my dad once in a blue moon i guess…” then she clicks her tongue, looking at him with a bit more interest. a bit more scrutiny. “shouldn’t you be outside with matty?”

does she not want him here?

the thought sends a pang in his chest. here she is—the girl he’s kissed and slept with for fucks sake, all while hiding it from his best friend in the whole world. and he doesn’t even know what she is to him. matty’s little sister? a one night stand? his girlfriend? well that’s a word he certainly hasn’t used before…

“george?”

“yeah?”

she looks at him as if he’s grown two heads all of a sudden. “outside. your friends. my brother.”

“yeah, uh, yeah i was,” he clears his throat with some effort, putting another piece of glass onto the neat little pile next to her. “shouldn’t you be outside with us too? you love mortal kombat.”

“nah, not today,” she shrugs, “i just wanted some peace and quiet today. you lot make too much racket.”

“oh you are right there with us, yelling and screaming when you get into it!” he teases again and she laughs at him.

he can smell the sweetness that clings to her—sugar and vanilla and cinnamon. something that matches her so perfectly. and once again he goes back to that night, to the taste of her skin and the feel of her body against his own. absolutely fucking perfect.

his thoughts are about to run absolutely wild when she hisses and abruptly drops a chunk of glass, involuntarily lifting her finger up to her mouth.

the edge of the piece she just dropped is tinged with red.

“show me!” he’s alert in an instant, grabbing her wrist and pulling her finger away from her mouth to inspect it. he frowns when he sees the tiny bleeding cut.

it’s only shallow, just skin deep, but it’s still bleeding.

“it’s just a nick, george,” she supresses a laugh but when he looks up at her again, her eyes have gone soft. there’s almost a tender expression on her face if he really wants to delude himself.

so he lamely let’s go of her, nodding absently.

it’s just a nick. yeah, of course it is.

“what were you going to do? kiss it better?”

his eyes widen in surprise at her so openly referencing it when she’s rarely done it before. she’s flirting with him! is she flirting with him? something warm fills his stomach—something that very suspiciously feels like hope.

and so he grins at her, trying to suppress his shyness. “can i sweetheart? kiss you?”

it’s such a risky ask. everyone is right there! right outside the door! and anyone could walk in on them—heads bent together, sitting so close that he only has to lean a few inches to kiss her. and yet none of those thoughts take precedence. all that matters to him is the way she smiles shyly. and then leans forward to bridge those few inches between them.

lemme know what you think <;33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off

add yourself to the taglist

#promptober75 #the 1975 #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george x reader #george x you #george daniel fluff #the 1975 fluff #bbf!george #brother's best friend #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann

70 notes · View notes

miimo96 · 3 months ago

Text

Thoughts on Re:Zero S3 episode 4

Oh so that's how we're starting this off, already with the Scuffed shit huh, also what do you mean we won't be able to handle them, they look LITERALLY like minions, Not final bosses

I've only seen this guy twice, and I already HATE his ass, Definitely becoming one of the worst fathers in anime history

I swear the more we see Satella the More I wanna know about her, like she is So intriguing to me, and her whole connection with Subaru is 1 of the greatest mysteries to me, because what is it with her and him, Why did she curse HIM of all people and basically make him I think into her archbishop, also why does she want him to kill her?🤔

Oh No. No no no no this cant be happening, Please don't tell me mimi's going to die, PLEASE! Poor Garf's already been through enough 😭😭

So lemme get this straight, you can't exactly move the Witches remains otherwise if you do the whole town will be destroyed, because the witches remains house a special power that could wind up destroying the entire city? Just WHO EXACTLY DID YOU KILL!?

IT'S TYPHON'S REMAINS!? as in the Witch of PRIDE? It's been a while so I can't exactly remember if that's her but if so, you're telling me you guys killed a KID!? 😨 What is wrong with y'all! Also why hasn't Subaru tried offing himself yet, if shit is this Bad, why hasn't he tried going back to fix everything since he knows he'd be expecting it, he seemed pretty eager to that last season when he found out Rem lost her memories, only for it to not work because his Save file got updated, but if his Save file hasn't gotten updated yet he could still do it

Oh my boy Garf going THROUGH IT, also SHE'S ALIVE!? HOW? no like seriously how with a wound like that, that Definitely looks fatal, unless you're Zoro I don't think anyone can survive that, anyway I'm glad she's alive tho 😔

Yo Garfield has to Lock in because this shit with him seeing her makes absolutely No sense, like he should be fighting with the intent to kill, not hesitat, like wtf is up with him, why does THIS bother him so much

NOOOOO! Even though we've already seen the aftermath, it still hits Hard like DAMN IT! Also I wanna throughly apologize for clowning those guys, I was unaware they were Like That...

Uh DUH! I'm not leaving her in his hands, that dude got me effed up if he thinks he's getting away with taking her, as soon as he's done with this little side Quest, He is going to DIE

Look at my boy Subaru getting the RESPECT he deserves ^^

also this little moment between him and Julius was so sweet, like even tho he's a Smug cocky bastard, he's still a pretty good guy, glad to see them finally getting along ^w^

A F*cking DRAGON!? Nah they wilding now

I don't think I've talked about it before, but Subaru actually doing shit is CRAZY, like the character development this season is insane, I have not seen him act like this before, Normally he usually just relies on others and plays support, but the fact that he's actually playing a part during the fight is crazy! The character development for this man ^^

Oh We caught your ass with a set up, now my boy's about to slide you like a baseball game, in simple terms: this is GG's

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Regerntion powers are scary as Hell when YOU'RE the one without them

OMFG! Do you know the amount of PAIN you would be in after landing on a Busted up leg, not only did he land on it, but the fact that he's also still STANDING is amazing, nah Subaru's an absolute G at this point

Hold up he wasn't wearing green before...(processing) What did you do to Otto you bastard? 😡

Hold up that wasn't his name before, also why is he saying "We" all of a sudden, wtf is going on, seriously 😕

Let's go Subaruuu!!! Time to avenge Rem bitch! ^^ Next episode's about to go crazy, and I'm totally here for it >_<

BONUS:

Who the eff starts a conversation like that, Buddy She JUST woke up

#anime #kawaii #2000s anime #90s anime #anime / manga #animanga #isekai #re zero kara hajimeru isekai seikatsu #re zero starting life in another world #re zero #re zero spoilers #emilia re zero #re:zero #subaru natsuki #subaru re:zero #re zero season 3 #re zero s3 #miimo96

11 notes · View notes

keep-the-wolves-close · 1 year ago

Text

Steady Heart

Chapter 8: The Hand That Feeds

Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: language, some brief violence between Rip and Kayce, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

* Word count: 3,498ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y’all 💛.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! 💛🤓

The morning was cold. Fog stretched across the pastures and mountains in every direction as far as the eye could see. It was very early and Stella had just gotten to the ranch. She wanted to start her day out with Abigail. It was easy like Sunday morning with her girl. They would go out riding around and when the sun came up a little bit higher, she would come back and actually start her day job. ‘Whatever it is now.’ She sighed and shook her head.

She shivered from the cold as she walked out of the refuge the barn offered. She zipped her dark green jacket up as high as it would go. Hearing footsteps not far away, she fixed her glasses and gazed around trying to find who else was getting an early start.

Stella was pleasantly surprised when she saw that the person the footsteps belonged to was Kayce. He had his head tucked down against his chest, shielding himself from the cold, his hands buried in his pockets.

Stella greeted him softly while fixing her ball cap backwards. “Hi you.”

Kayce’s head shot up. He didn't expect there to be anyone out here yet. He wanted to clear his head from the disagreement between him and Monica last night. Seeing Stella made him relax. He knew there wouldn’t be many questions, there wouldn’t be judgment. If there was, she always asked for clarification before making any final decisions. If it would have been any of the men, he would have thought twice. They could be worse at gossiping. Like a bunch of old ladies at the hair salon on Main Street.

He stopped just before her. “Hey.” He took a beat. “What’re you doin’?”

“I was gonna go on a ride before I started my actual work day.” Stella smiled. “What’re you doin’? I thought you would have been back at the cabin.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah. Just wanted to clear my head this morning.”

“Oh,” she dragged the syllable out. “So how did the lover’s getaway go?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him with a smirk.

“More like a break for the parents.”

Stella nodded. “Well I mean fair. You both have had a lot happen in a short amount of time. You are more than deserving of a break.”

“Yeah.”

The silence became heavy. Stella checked her saddle, and side-eyed Kayce. “Why were you comin’ up here instead of spending the mornin’ in bed with your wife?” She faced him and leaned against Abigail. The mare shifted onto the leg closest to Stella and caused her to stumble forward. She caught herself and stood up fully again and side-eyed her horse. Abigail let out a low neigh that sounded like she was chuckling. Stella glared at her for a second before looking back to Kayce. “I know you didn’t come here to see lil’ ol’ clumsy me.”

He laughed quietly and challenged her. “Who says I didn’t?”

They made eye contact. Stella immediately looked away. “Kayce, you and I both know that ain’t true.”

“Okay, fine, you got me. I was comin’ down to take Tank out. See how he does outside of the ring, but also clear my head.”

“Do you want me to wait for ya?”

“Nah you go. You’ve got actual work to get to after.”

Stella ignored the small pang of disappointment and covered it with humor. “Well, some of us do have to work around here. But if I see ya, I’ll see ya.” She stepped up into her saddle. Abigail shifted forward ready to go. “Be safe okay?”

Kayce bobbed his head. “I should be saying that to you.”

“Oh pfft, I’m not the one that could find trouble in a paper bag.”

“No, you’d just be the one tagging along with the one who found it.” Kayce meant himself.

Stella belly laughed. “Alright, cowboy. I’ll see ya later.”

Abigail and Stella free galloped along for a good while. The sun was finally up and the cold didn’t bite as badly now. She let out a long sigh and sat back in her saddle as they came to a stop. There was something about the quiet out here that gave her peace.

She thought back to how Kayce sounded when he mentioned him and Monica. Yes, they needed a break. However, there was an underlying tone of annoyance. That couldn’t be good. She hoped that he had taken her advice and talked to Monica.

There were hoofbeats coming up behind her that broke her out of her thoughts. She legged Abigail to make her turn around to face the oncoming intruder of the peace.

Stella smiled fondly. “Well would ya look at what the cat dragged in.”

Rip laughed as he trotted up beside her. “Oh you can go straight to hell, Miss Stella-belle.”

“You love me, good sir, and you know it.” Stella shoved his arm playfully.

“Is that right now?”

“Mmhmm. Yes sir it is. I dare anyone to prove me different.”

Rip questioned her. “What’re you doin’ all the way out here?”

“Clearing my head before my day starts. What are you doin’?”

Rip glanced around at the surrounding tree line. “Lookin’ for a bear that your brother and Jimmy said they saw nearby.”

“These bears are gettin’ big in their britches, ain’t they?”

“Uncomfortably so.”

“You think it’s from redirecting that river?” She asked.

Rip paused and observed her. “You knew about that?”

Stella made a face at the foreman. “How could I not?”

“You weren’t home then. You were at Grand Springs at the time.”

“You think I don’t hear things? Especially after everything that’s happened around me hearing things in the last week?” She raised her eyebrows. In realness, she and Jimmy had spoken about it. She wasn’t going to throw him to the wolf of the Yellowstone known as Rip Wheeler, though.

“Fair.”

Stella threw in a defense for the newest ranch member. “Speaking of Jimmy, y’all have got to give him a break. He’s tryin’.”

“Not hard enough.”

“Rip…,” Stella let the syllable drag out. “He got thrown into the lion’s den. With no one to care or help. Y’all just expect him to know these things, but he’s never lived this before. Lloyd has faith in him, so I do too.”

“You got a thing for our resident dipshit?”

“What? Good lord, no. There’s just something endearing about him.” Abigail turned herself around, unprompted. “Uh okay, we’re facing this way now.” Stella frowned at the motion because normally Abigail didn’t shift much, that big of a shift anyhow. Stella fixed her glasses on her nose as she examined the mare’s body language.

The bay roan’s ears were perked forward in the direction of the stream that ran through the one side of the pasture they were in. Abigail’s nostrils flared as she smelled the wind which caused her to snort loudly when she let the breath out. She danced on her hooves and Stella could swear she heard a horse neigh in distress.

Stella legged Abigail forward to the top of the small hill. Rip slowly trotted behind. She spotted Kayce, horseless, and waving his hat. He yelled and tried to make himself look big. Her eyes darted to the trees where he was facing and she detected the bear making its way downtown hot and fast to Kayce. She heard Kayce yell and kicked Abigail into action. “Damn it all to hell!” She cussed to herself.

Rip sighed. “Found that bear.” He grabbed his shotgun out of its holster, and kicked his horse into gear.

Stella pushed Abigail to gallop as fast as she could. She kept an eye on the bear, and it was closer than she was. “Fuck!” She kicked Abigail again in a plea to open her legs up and fly. She adjusted her glasses again before she would lose her chance and her glasses.

As soon as she was within ear shot, she hollered. “Kayce! On your left!” His head snapped to her and he reached out in her direction. She rushed up on his side, braced herself in her saddle, and shot her right arm out for him. Their arms slammed against one other. With Abigail’s momentum, and Stella’s pull, Kayce swung himself up onto the mare’s hind end. Abigail quickly turned them away from the bear and they heard the gunshot from Rip.

Kayce slammed against her back as he landed fully on Abigail’s hind end. Stella let out an oomf and lurched forward. They galloped back to where Rip stood, and Stella brought Abigail to a stop. Kayce hopped off and Rip started to give him a hard time.

“You could get in trouble in a church.” He taunted Kayce and trotted up to him standing on the ground. “You stood your ground, though. For once.”

“I ain't used to seeing you off my dad's leash.” Stella’s eyebrows raised at Kayce’s comment.

“Guys, not today, please?” Stella tried to steer away the fight she could see brewing.

Rip ignored Stella and dared Kayce to say it again. “What's that?”

Kayce panted, trying to catch his breath. “I didn't stutter.”

Rip hopped off his horse and charged at Kayce. “Go ahead. Come on. Go ahead.” He challenged him. They traded blows fast and Rip was able to get the upper hand.

Stella jumped off Abigail and hurried to put herself in the middle of the men. There had always been animosity between them, and it had only come to blows a time or two. She grappled her way in between them. Kayce’s arm made her hat fly off her head. “Hey hey! Knock it the hell off! Put your dicks away!” Rip’s fist grazed by her face unintentionally, and she jerked her head back to avoid the blow.

Kayce tugged Stella back farther and threw one last solid punch to Rip’s face. “Watch your fuckin’ hands!”

Stella pushed the men apart as hard as she could. “Knock it off!” She stood there and panted. “Y’all are being absolutely ridiculous!” She pushed her eyewear up her nose. Bending down, Stella snatched her hat aggressively off the ground.

“You still can't take a punch, though.” Rip goaded as he got up on his horse. “She would’ve taken it better than you did.”

Kayce asked him. “Where the fuck you going?”

“Ah, there's work to be done. You know what work is, don't you?” Rip turned his horse, which Stella could tell the horse sensed the agitation. “Course you don't. You got your wife for that.” He placed the rifle back in its holster. “By the way, welcome home.” Galloping off left the pair standing there still trying to catch their breath.

“Good lord, Kayce. What’s the deal?”

“You know what the deal is.”

“With the hostility between y’all? Yes.” She walked over to Abigail, surprised she was still here, and grabbed her split reins. “But you knowingly responded with fightin’ words instead of saying thank you, you ass.”

“If I say thank you to anyone, it would be you. You got me away from the bear.”

Stella tapped Abigail to walk toward him so she didn’t have to shout. “Yeah, but he got the bear away from us. For the second time in our lives.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He admitted sourly.

She held her hand out to him and took her one foot out of its stirrup so he had a leg up. “Well c’mon. Hop up. Let’s see if we can find your horse. I doubt Rip is gonna try.”

He climbed up and settled onto Abigail, just behind the saddle. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but he could make it work. Stella stiffened her back and tried to lean forward as far as possible. She didn’t want to be all up in Kayce’s face. Although, if he wanted to stay on using more than just his legs, he had to put his hands on her waist. She took a deep breath to clear the fog that draped itself over her.

Kayce leaned forward a bit. “Is that okay?” He didn’t want to be in the way of her range of movement.

She shook her head. “Yeah, that’s fine. If I need you to move, I’ll let ya know.” Sighing, she nudged Abigail into a trot. With every bump her stomach hit the horn of her saddle. She groaned every so often and Kayce caught onto her discomfort.

“Stella, why are you so far forward?”

“Because I don’t want to be in your face?” She questioned like it was obvious.

Kayce placed himself directly against her back, and leaned forward. There were confused noises that came from Stella. She struggled to get out her question. “Kayce what the hell are you doing?!” His arms grabbed her hands that held the reins and pulled the mare to a halt.

“That’s what I’m doin’.” He tapped the bill of her backwards ball cap and sat back up straight. She turned her head as far as she could to look at him.

“Do you want down or something?”

“No. I want you to sit in your seat.” His voice reminded her of when he was teaching her some maneuver when they were younger. It was just deeper now. “You’re the one controlling the horse, not me. Since when have you ever worried about personal space with me?” He paused for a few seconds. “Ever?”

Stella let out a heavy huff. She leaned back to sit naturally. Feeling Kayce’s chest meet her mid back made her tense up again. He gripped her waist and forced her to sit deep in her saddle.

“You’re fine Stella. Let’s get a move on.” His voice echoed behind her ear. It caused goosebumps to bloom on her arms. She blamed it on the cold.

She shook her head and cleared the cobwebs. Nudging Abigail again, she and Kayce settled into her floaty lope. That mustang was probably halfway to Wyoming at this point. Stella would have believed that, but she spotted Rip leaning against a tree with Tank next to him.

“Well I’ll be damned…,” she trailed off quietly. In shock that Rip actually caught the mustang for them at all.

Kayce slid off Stella’s horse quickly. “Wanna go again? Let's go.”

Stella and Rip started to speak at the same time.

“Oh my fucking god Kayce —,”

“— No, no, no. I think we got it out of our system. For now.” Rip stopped Stella from scolding them.

Stella condescended both of the men, pissed she’d been ignored this whole time. “Did you really? You fuckin’ twelve year olds?”

Rip left her condescension unnoticed. “My job is to protect this family, and you are the worst thing for it.” He pointed at Stella. “For her.”

He walked up to Kayce and got in his face. “You made your choice, Kayce. Now you stand by it. Don't come back now. You wanna do something for your father? For Stella? You do that.”

He passed Kayce and Stella by, and got on his horse again. “'Cause I'll be honest with you, I'm getting tired of burying your secrets.”

He pinned Stella with his gaze. “And I’m tired of pulling you outta the shit he puts you in. I don’t want you to be the thing I have to bury next.”

Stella screwed up her face at Rip’s admission. ‘What the hell is he talking about?’

Stella questioned him angrily. “What the fuck does that even mean? Bury next?” She looked to Kayce as if he had an answer, but then fixed her ire on Rip. “Are you trying to say you think I make bad decisions, or are you threatening me?” She would be damned if she’d let him do that. “You know I’ve always had his back! And yours!”

Rip fired back. “I’m not threatening you, but stop and look at all the bullshit you’ve gotten into by being near him!”

“What? A couple of scars, and a place of my own? I fail to see how that’s bad!” She volleyed back.

Rip rolled his eyes at her behind his sunglasses. He knew her blindness to Kayce was detrimental and it would be like arguing with a wall. Especially if her mind was made up. And in the case of Kayce, it always was. He readjusted in his saddle with a groan. “Okay, Stella.” He sucked his teeth. “I want you to truly think about that. You’ll see.” Rip took off without leaving any more room for argument.

Stella watched Kayce pull what appeared to be a blue folder out of the shovel handle of the shovel that Rip had stabbed in the ground and open it. She stood there looking at the ground as she tried to figure out just what the hell Rip meant. She stepped up into her saddle. When Kayce heard Stella and Abigail come up behind him, he folded it and shoved it in his pocket.

“What was that?”

He said harshly. “You don’t need to know.” Rips words echoed loudly in his mind. ‘You're the worst thing for this family. For her.’

She frowned at the unexpected attitude. ‘It was just a question. Damn.’

She sassed back. “Okay then. I’m gonna go.” She exhaled loudly. “Don’t try to fight anymore bears, I guess.”

Not waiting for him to answer, Stella made Abigail transition from trot to canter quickly. She felt bad for leaving him there, but he had his horse again. He would be fine. He obviously didn’t want her there, so she would go find something to do with the wranglers.

The second Ryan saw Stella coming down the hill on Abigail, he could feel in his bones that something was wrong. He tapped Colby on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he told him as he trotted to meet Stella off to the side.

She came to a slow stop as her brother came up to her. They made eye contact, but then Stella looked off to her left in Rip’s direction. She rolled her eyes and Ryan motioned for her to follow him.

They trotted around to the side of the barn where her car was parked near the bunkhouse. “So what’s going on? What happened with Rip?” He pulled the bandaid off and asked.

The words tumbled out of Stella’s mouth. “I had gone out by myself for my normal morning ride. I came across Rip, then he and I ran into Kayce about to be eaten by a bear, probably that bear you and Jimmy saw. I went to save Kayce and Rip scared it away. The guys ended up getting into it, and then Rip said something about how it was his job to protect the family and Kayce was the worst thing for it and for me. How he was tired of burying Kayce’s secrets and pulling me outta the bullshit Kayce drags me into and I should choose better to not stand by him.”

“Woah slow down. What bullshit has Kayce gotten you into now?”

“None! I don’t even know what Rip meant!” Stella shouted. “I’ve always backed Kayce. Everyone knows that!”

“We all know you’re both a package deal. I think Rip is just in a sour mood. Whatever fight they got in, I don’t think you had anything to do with it. You just got caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Yeah well it’s really irritating to be told I shouldn’t be friends with my best friend.” She huffed harshly, annoyed that sounded like a child. “That I make bad decisions.”

“Don’t let him get to you —,” Ryan would have finished his sentence, but the siblings saw Kayce race from the cabin up to his father’s house on Tank.

Stella and Ryan shared a quick look. He waved her on. She hurried Abigail to catch up. The wind whipped through the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.

“Kayce! What’s wrong?!”

“Monica’s hurt! I gotta go!”

“Shit!” She followed him up to the house with lightning speed. He immediately slid off Tank and ran inside to find his dad.

Stella hopped down from Abigail. Tank chuffed when Stella’s hand touched his side. “Hey, buddy. It’s just me. We’re gonna go back to the barn okay?” Her head snapped up when the two men raced out of the house.

Kayce started to say, “Stella will you —,” but she interrupted.

“— I’ll take care of him. Let me know if you need anything okay?” Kayce nodded his thanks and hopped in the truck.

John called out to her. “Stella?”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna speak with you when I get back, so stick around.” He spoke quickly as he jumped in the driver's seat. The truck took off without giving her time to answer. Stella breathed out heavily and turned to find both horses staring at her.

“What? I’m not in trouble this time.” She hopped up on Abigail and grabbed Tank's reins with her right hand. “At least I don’t think I am.”

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic #ryan yellowstone #rip wheeler

33 notes · View notes