#not sure if you remember me suggesting this plot a while back but i figured it fit well for this meme.

[awalkoflife-arc]

@fidelissimi sent: ❝ i never meant to cause you trouble. ❞ from ( x ).

harrison doesn't respond right away and instead, lets his eyes wander over her as she sits on the floor, cutting lines of cocaine on the table for them. he still remembers the night ruby told him about it --- the time she slept with her professor, or rather, how she was coerced into fucking him. granted, he didn't take it well. to this day, it made his skin crawl. "you didn't." harrison states, as though it should have been obvious. the person who did cause him trouble, well... he suspects she already knows who that might be. all across their university's socials, alerts and reports were sent out to the students, letting them know that a professor had been attacked not far from campus. a safety warning was issued, asking students to be vigilant and for anyone who might have witnessed anything to contact local authorities. it happened the previous weekend, when harrison had enough time to get off grid, buy what he needed and get the job done. it was raining heavily, much like it is tonight. he'd broken the guy's jaw, left him with fractured ribs and some internal bleeding. "none of this is your fault, okay?" he reminds her, dark eyes void of any anger. if anything, now he just felt numb. indifferent. as long as ruby was alright, he would be too.

[dadsbongos]

dungeon meshi gave me an excuse to write clone porn

2.6 k words / warnings - readers have boobs and vagina, oral (laios + reader receiving), thigh fucking, porn without plot like none at all, not proofread + written while sleep deprived

summary - on your honeymoon, you and laios have a special kind of shapeshifter encounter

~~~

“Who keeps two towels in the whole house?” you grumble, pulling on the shoes you’d kicked off just minutes ago.

“Like I said, they probably keep some in the shed,” Laios is directly behind you, shoes on and wired to step outside, “Vacation houses out here are rare, but their sheds are more useful for storage than farming tools.”

“Still, did they not think to prepare a little more?” your frustration is not so easily tempered, “They knew a king was coming, didn’t they?”

“I’m sure they did,” Laios opens the front door for you, ushering you outside, “Marcille seemed pretty sure she set this up nicely for us. It’s just a short walk around the back, I could go by myself if you want to finish showering?”

His suggestion makes you sigh, you shake your head, huddling closer to him as chilled wind scathes your damp skin, “I’m just annoyed, it’s nothing for me to be so hostile about… Sorry for losing my mind.”

“I don’t mind,” he smooches the crown of your head and ventures around the house. You chase after, having to keep a hand dragging along the wall to avoid tripping.

“Laios!” you wail, unable to make him out with gray clogging your whole vision, “Laios!”

“Yeah?” you slam into his chest, letting out a muted ‘oomf!’ at the impact.

“It’s so foggy out here,” you grumble.

“It is, guess I forgot how terrible it could be.”

“Dunno how you could forget anything like this.”

Laios groans in irritation at the weather, blindly reaching out until he’s got a hand on your shoulder. Once he’s certain of your position, he reaches out again, “Here, take my hand, I don’t want you to get separated from me.”

You take the hand extended and let Laios tug you towards the shed. By the time you’re inside and the hanging overhead lantern is lit, a sudden discovery is made.

There are two extra bodies among you. You hold one Laios, and the Laios across from you holds the hand of your copy.

A gasp echoes through the room, distinctly Laios-like in passion.

Seems a monster has crossed your paths.

One Laios is taller, a mere two inches, and you think if you really stare that same Laios’ chest is slightly bigger too. He’s also smiling, beaming really, right off the bat while the second Laios’ excitement is more contained to shaking hands and meek giggles. To be fair to both, they thought they’d never see a monster again so you let the strange giddy slide.

However, your duplicate is scary in how precisely Laios remembers you. Your hair is a bit bouncier and lips more glossy than current, but she’s undeniably accurate. Its legs, the swell of its breasts, the mold of its waist -- almost as though you’re gazing through a mirror.

“This would probably be easier if it wasn’t just us,” you think aloud, looking at the two Laioses only to see them poking and prodding at one another.

“They don’t seem too keen on figuring out which is which,” your copy mumbles, earning a glare from you.

“It’s a shapeshifter!” the slightly shorter Laios (who you’re now electing to dub Laios A) shouts, “I haven’t seen one of these in forever! I thought I never would again!”

The other one, Laios B, nods and yanks Laios A’s hair experimentally, then groping his bicep, “It really feels just like I do! Soft, but firm skin and the hair texture’s exactly right!”

As if thinking in sync, the pair slowly turn towards the yous. Four hands turn unto you both to squeeze and roll down the planes of your body. Or, bodies, considering they’re petting down your copy as well.

“Practically identical!” Laios A squeals, kissing your cheek then your copy’s, “Even the plumpness of their cheeks feel the same!”

“Glad you’re having fun,” your dupe cuts in, “but shouldn’t we try getting rid of the fakes before they get rid of us?”

Oh, that little wench.

“Let Laios have fun,” you smack its arm, “You should know this is rare for him now.”

“That attitude’s terrible! He could die if we keep messing around!” it glares at you with an accusatory finger-wag, “I bet you want us to waste time, you fake!”

“You’re the fake, you fake!”

Laios A has to restrain you with both arms around your waist -- while Laios B does the same for your shifter -- to prevent you from knocking a fist into its stupid, fake face.

“There’s gotta be a way to figure out which ones the real one without breaking into fights,” Laios B fusses, hugging the shifter tighter to soothe her. Which, in turn, only agitates you more because what if that Laios is the real one, and he’s in horrible danger holding that monster?!

“We can’t just cut ourselves open,” Laios A’s chest reverberates at your back, then his hand skims down the front of your stomach, fingertips dipping just beneath your waistband, “But maybe we could tell each other’s behaviors apart some other way…”

“Oh, so it’s like that?” you tilt your head back to stare up at Laios A.

He nods, terminally serious despite the pinkish hue trailing from his cheeks to his neck, “It’s like that,” he then darts his eyes between you and your copy, “Can we?”

The real question seems to be: can you two get along for now?

Are you so devoted to Laios that you’re willing to play nice with something so grating?

You sigh and reach up to cup Laios A’s cheek, “Yeah, we can.”

Both Laioses rush to undo the tie of their trousers, only to be stopped by you and your copy -- the two of you falling onto your knees, creeping hands under Laios’ shirt and beneath his pants.

Yanking the soft material down to unveil thick thighs, Laios A above you gasps quietly at the cool air brushing his exposed skin. Your lips climb the meat of his leg, noting that Laios B’s thighs are looking a little rounder. Not that it matters, you’ll gladly bite and suck both.

Fingers dancing along the apple of your cheek redirect your attention, Laios A’s face tinged crimson. You smooch the bone of his hip, nails scaling along the back of his thighs to pull him closer. Beside your face, his cock hardens, color deepening towards his mushroom tip; he keens for more attention, unintentionally smearing leaky precum over your face as his erection twitches. You smooth a thumb along his underside before chastly pecking the weepy head.

Laios B’s hands strip your copy’s shirt, lifting it to paw at its breasts. He kisses down the column of its neck before reaching out for you as well. Rising onto your feet, you run your hands up Laios B’s back to shirk off his top -- Laios A awkwardly lingering behind your clone. His hands find the waistband of its pants, snaking beneath the lip to plunge into its panties.

You press a kiss to Laios B, he doesn’t turn to return the affection, but you recover quickly by pulling down both you and your duplicate’s bottoms. Laios A’s neck cranes over your copy’s shoulder to snatch your lips for himself. Laios B’s hands warm and calloused from labor as they careen up your waist to rid you of your shirt as well. He sucks a violet array from your shoulder to jaw, grinding his turgid girth between your thighs -- your wetness welcoming him.

Laios A moans at the sight of himself thrusting along your soaked slit, fingers quickening inside your copy until its own slick is rolling towards the floor. While Laios B releases muted groans and puffs into your ear.

“Need to be inside you,” Laios A whines, kissing your copy’s lips before striding past all three of you towards the center of the room. Laios B and you tilt to watch him.

Laios A quickly flattens his back against the floor, cobblestone acclimating to his rising body heat, he pulls you down by the waist -- then beckoning your copy via wave. One of his hands cradles your waist while the other smoothes along your copy’s thigh. Silently urging it to kneel over his face, all while his twitching cock bobs toward the apex of your thighs.

“Want to know if here’s the same, too,” Laios A murmurs into your dupe’s thighs, sharply jerking his hips towards yours.

Suddenly, large hands are burrowing into the thicket of your hair, swerving your eyes to Laios B. Your tongue lulls in time with your copy, lips brushing hers around the base of Laios B’s flushed head. Needily, he mushes your faces together, thrusting between the wet cavern of your mouths. Hands just as soft as yours slither beneath you to work Laios A inside you. Laios A snaps his knees up, feet on the floor, to aid your copy’s effort. His hips buck up, punching air from your chest as he pops into your hole.

A louder mewl slithers past your copy’s lips, Laios A’s tongue lathering its slit before pausing at its clit, bathing the bud in extra attention. His thumbs splay it open just for easier access to tongue-fuck. Meanwhile, your sleepy bouncing rhythm is interrupted by abrupt, sharp humping throwing you off balance. The only reason you don’t fall over is Laios B stubbornly holds your head still, fucking the sodden gap between yours and your clone’s faces; otherwise leaving you to your own devices. You manage to catch yourself on Laios A’s chest, firm muscles flexing beneath your palms with his throaty hums and whimpers of pleasure.

Your tongue clashes with your clone’s -- soft and wet and warm.

Pulling both your heads back, Laios B rearranges you so your clone is left squealing around his balls while he slaps the meaty weight of his cock on your tongue. Sliding toward the back of your throat, his face flushes as he hungrily coaxes your head further down. Until your molten cheeks meet the protrusions of his pelvic bones.

A hand bigger than yours (though smaller than the one in your hair) rests on your flexing tummy, pressing against the bulging evidence of which Laios is inside you. Laios A groans at the feeling, and you quickly fumble your hand over his, pressing harder with a delighted gasp that ends in a gag and choke. Their sizes are indecipherable, and if the mood were different you could almost be ashamed by how perverted it makes you seem.

Laios B throws his head back as your throat spasms around his tip, lip cinched between his teeth and brows furrowed. He forces your head side-to-side, reveling in the bend of your muscles shifting to accommodate his dick. Laios A, however, stretches his hand (a little uncomfortably) so his thumb can swish messily against your clit. Your volume grows, quickly overpowering both Laios B and your own duplicate. Spurring Laios A to hasten, jostling you with his powerful drilling paired with stimulating your clit.

The other hand of Laios A has found one of your clone’s tits, squeezing and padding the nipple with his thumb. She’s grinding down against his nose, hips jumping and muffled mewls just barely scratching past its lips into the sensitive sack of Laios B’s balls. Spit gurgling down its chin, drying against its breasts and Laios A’s hand.

Drool steadily pools at the pucker of your own lips, pushed out everytime B shoves in -- saliva splatters his hips, dripping down his thighs and soaking his base as well as your entire lower face. The quicker he fucks your face, the sloppier and wetter it gets. Which is certainly in character for Laios.

But so is the way the one on his back is staving off his burgeoning orgasm to make sure (both of) you finish first. Something he always tries.

Laios A’s hips snap up firmly, crooking up into you midair, deep as possible to ensure all his cum is milked by your cunt. He moans into your clone’s cunt, now content to let his tongue hang out as it fucks his face -- his hand still squishing its tit.

Yet something he always fails.

Laios usually cums before you, but he’s also got the stamina to soldier on until you drop.

Determined, Laios swirls your clit, fevered thrusts slowing to meet your bouncing on his cock. Another slush of saliva oozes past your lips, lubing the shapeshifter as you cry around its erection. Laios fucks you through your orgasm, evidently loving how cum spews from your weeping cunt -- leaking down his cock, over his nuts, and spilling onto the cobblestone below.

Faux Laios spits cum down your throat with a few final aggressive jerks. Your clone is the last, and the quietest, shy huffs scarcely audible between skin on skin and both you and Laios’ noisy crooning.

The shapeshifters tumble off, thoroughly exhausted, and you fare no better collapsing into Laios’ chest. He leisurely jabs the last of your energy from you before pulling out altogether. Sweetly pecking your forehead, Laios murmurs something you don’t quite catch before he rises -- still naked -- to drive off the imposters.

Snagging both by the back of their necks, Laios herds the pair towards the back wall, then scooping you up to carry towards the main house. Once your doppelgangers are locked outside, Laios can focus on getting you in bed.

You pinch the juncture of his neck, yawning into his chest, “Clothes…”

“I know, I know,” he slumps against the door upon getting inside, laying his head over yours -- eyes fluttering with drowsiness as soon as he crosses into the master bed, “I’ll go back when the shapeshifter’s dealt with. You brought more clothes, right?”

You nod clumsily. Then peek at him through heavy lashes, “How do you know I’m the right one anyway?”

(you trust him to know which you was which, you just want him to bask in this)

Laios grins, visibly excited to share as he slips you beneath the sheets, “You’re always loud when we have sex, so I knew the version of you trying to be quiet couldn’t be it. And it was too shy about sitting on my face -- we’ve been together a while so you should be used to it by now,” his expression grows somehow brighter before disappearing from your sight, voice lively from the bathroom, “Could you tell which me was me?”

“Mhm,” you wait for him to return with a damp washcloth before mumbling your own reasoning, “The other one was too rough, kept shovin’ my head. And he never kissed me,” you fling a hand out, and Laios moves his head so your palm lands on his cheek, “Which was very unlike you.”

“You’re so smart,” he muses, shifting to kiss your palm before lacing his free hand with yours and retucking it in bed so he can properly clean the mixed cum between your thighs. Then, suddenly, he’s frowning.

“Aw, what’s wrong?”

“This might actually be my last time seeing a monster, unless it's a corpse Izutsumi brings me…”

“Poor baby,” you’ll never understand his fascination -- monsters are deadly and terrible and most are ugly as sin, but you’re useless to denying Laios anything so you always indulge him, “You could sing me the mermaids’ song, would that help you feel better?”

Laios sits up straighter, finishing cleaning you off, “Can I sing to the end? I never get to finish it.”

“Of course, you can.”

Quiet, hysterical giggles leave Laios’ mouth as he slides into bed beside you, hugging you into his chest before clearing his throat to begin singing.

(you have to keep pinching yourself awake to actually let Laios finish the song before falling asleep, but his grateful little kisses on your hairline are enough thanks)

[reverieblondie]

The Dare

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Stealing Stuff, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Degrading, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Hair Pulling, Fingering, Reader is called Slut.

Summary: Hobie takes the dare game up a notch. Unexpected events ensue...

A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever so please be kind!  If I missed any warnings or my grammar and spelling sucks please just let me know. I thought this idea was funny so figured I would share! 

Word Count: 5,757 (still working on my editing skills so warning)

Hobie casually struts into view, wearing Peter's favorite pink robe. He has a smirk on his face. He obviously was successful in the dare.

You, Hobie, Gwen and Ben were passing time at HQ by having a friendly game of daring each other to do things, you all recently got done with a mission so it was perfect to kill time, Gwen had suggested truth or dare but Hobie said that dares only would make for a better game. It started innocently enough like reading the last text message you sent your crush, drinking a bottle of hot sauce but you can’t drink anything else for 10 minutes, and going to dance in the cafeteria to no music to see if anyone joins you, but it quickly diverted to more dangerous dares.  

“I can't believe you were able to get that” Ben laughs out as Hobie strikes poses while Gwen and you cheer him on 

“Oh this was nothing mate, I do believe that is your turn for a dare Miss Y/N” 

You look at Hobie with a smirk, if he was trying to scare you it wasn't going to work.  “I can handle whatever you throw at me Hobie, all these dares have been a cakewalk so far” 

Hobie smirks, “Why don't we get you something challenging then, hm?”

You shrug feeling confident “I'm not scared of any dare”

“Any dare?”

“Yep!”

“No backing out aye?”

“No backing out” you grin, feeling that he wouldn't be able to think of anything too crazy, but you forget this is Hobie, and he loves to push the limits.

Hobie thinks for a moment, his face contorted with thought, and then a wicked smirk flashes on his face, he looks at you and leans in knowing he had a perfect dare. 

“I dare you to steal a pair of Miguel's underwear” Gwen and Ben exchange shocked looks then look back at you, brows furrowed mouth agape you are equally as shocked by the request.

“What?!”

Hobie goes to repeat but is quickly cut off by you interrupting him “Eh…Please don't repeat it I heard you.” This causes Hobie to laugh

“So are you game?”

you think for a moment, that stealing Miguel’s underwear…this was definitely a challenge and a bit of a gamble on your life. But you would never hear the end of it from Hobie if you backed out now. Face riddled with concern you look up at Hobie, a fire in your eye blooms not wanting to be beaten. 

“I'm game!”

You and Hobie shake hands the dare is on, no backing out now. 

You first had to think about a game plan to get Miguel's underwear. It's not like you can just walk up and ask the guy, he was the big boss he could crush your head like a peanut. Plus it didn't help that you had a fat crush on him, and now you have to nab his underwear.

Taking a deep breath you headed to Miguel's room in HQ. You ducked around corners and made sure you were not being followed or looking too suspicious, though that wasn't easy to do considering you were sweating bullets. Miguel's room was known to be located at the top of HQ, being the leader and founder of the Spider Society means you get to have a penthouse suite at your job you guess. 

You had only ever been to the door of his room once, you had forgotten to give him your mission reports on time so you had to hand deliver them one night at Miguel's irritated request, you remember that night having to rush the paperwork over and banging on the door, for Miguel to reveal himself in sweatpants and an oversized shirt hair lose from a recent shower. Seeing him in such a casual state had worsened your crush.  Miguel just gave you the same furrowed expression he always seemed to have glued to his face, looking you up and down before he took your reports without uttering a word to you. 

After that night you couldn't help but fantasize about Miguel doing more casual mundane things, like grocery shopping or maybe telling jokes to you, the guy was in a consistent state of stress so thinking about him relaxed made you excited. People might think it would be weird but hey it's your fantasy, not theirs.

Finally making your way to the top you peek around a corner looking at his door. There is no one around from what you can tell, so you check your watch. Perfect it's still afternoon, Miguel, the workaholic he is, never leaves his office early so you still have plenty of time. Sneaking over to the door you try the handle, and to your surprise…it's unlocked? Huh? Miguel should lock his room. There are some real weirdos out there, the current weirdo being you. Then again what idiot would be dumb enough to sneak into Miguel's private space? Oh yeah thanks to the dare, you! 

Through the door you steadily walk in, the living room is huge, nicely lit, minimalist design, and very clean, a total opposite to Miguel's office which is dark with all kinds of clutter. A nice large sofa and a TV that hardly looks like it's ever been used decorate the space, attached to the vast living room, a kitchen with a sleek-looking island and very modern appliances, some you can't even recognize. As you go further and further in his suite, you tiptoe around looking at everything, if you didn't know this was Miguel's place you would have never thought that anyone lived here, so devoid of any kind of personality. Maybe he's just a minimalist? 

As you quietly walk through the impressive suite you hear a noise that stops you in your tracks. You look and see a door that is slightly cracked, you examine the door cautiously slowly making your approach. Another noise draws you in closer, a grunt?

 Thanks to your careful steps you manage to sneak to the door and peer inside without making a sound. Peering through the slit of the door you lean in to survey what caught your attention, your eyes widened at the sight and your breath instantly halts. 

There he is Miguel, your leader, your crush fully nude standing in his master bedroom, head thrown back eyes screwed shut, fangs fully extended, moaning in pleasure as he tightly fucks his cock with his hand. His hips are jutting forward slightly, his angry red tip leaking glistening precum that only aids in his feverish fucking. His muscles are tense and rippling, each moan makes his massive body shake. You are mesmerized by the sight, you're sure your jaw is on the floor. You are watching Miguel O’Hara fucking his hand chasing any kind of release.

 Continuing to watch his relentless pursuit, your excitement builds as you watch. Mouth dry and wanting to desperately attach yourself to his cock and lick and suck till your thirst is quenched from his release. Your thoughts run rampant, you shouldn’t be watching this, it's wrong, but you can’t take your eyes off him. His tanned skin glowing with the subtle sheen of sweat, his moans egging him on and equally you. 

The whole display has you tightening your thighs together, your arousal ls pooling in your panties. He starts to move with more sloppiness, slipping incoherent words in Spanish to the air and he gets close to his high. Then to your pleasure, sticky white ropes escape him and cover his large hand painting him white. He continues to pump for a few more moments, slightly shaking as he does. He then opens his eyes, grabs a towel resting on his bed and cleans himself, as he’s cleaning he gives a small sigh looking more relaxed during his come down and takes a deep inhale from his nose. Then he stops and his face contorts to confusion, taking another whiff of the air again he looks towards the slightly ajar door. 

You jump quickly backpedaling from the door, did he see you? Shit you need to hide, you quickly tiptoe to the next door finding yourself in what looks like a home office. You look around the room quickly scanning for a place to hide, a desk catches your attention, this will have to do. Quickly hiding below it you hear Miguel walking slowly into the room looking around. Heart beating rampant you place your hand over your mouth and steady your breathing, you can not get caught he will kick you out of society or worse kill you! 

Miguel scratches his head and gives a slight “huh” before leaving the room and going back to the bedroom. You wait a few moments before you poke your head out cautiously. Looks all clear, you quickly go to make your escape, but then you stop the dare…you got to get that underwear, it was just a stupid game but your pride was going to get the better of you and you didn’t want to be subjected to Hobies teasing of how you couldn’t hack it after all your big talk. You swallow down your fear and turn towards the bedroom door. 

You approach the door hesitantly and place your ear to it, you hear what sounds like a shower, Miguel must be doing some aftercare for himself. Taking all risks you gently open the door and peer inside your spider senses helping to guide you through feeling no immediate danger. Peering inside you see the room is empty. Walking in you look for a dresser but with no luck, the only thing you see is a large bed and nightstand, ever the minimalist huh Miguel? Your eyes go to the door on the side of the room where you hear the shower being used. 

This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid! You're going to get seen! Thinking to yourself as you slowly crack open the door to the master bathroom. Looking through the crack you see a silhouette of Miguel in the shower, the glass is steamed over from the intestine heat of the water he is cleaning himself with. It’s so hot that as you carefully crawl in you feel the heat and humidity in the air thick and making it hard to breathe. 

Miguel is something else to take such scouring showers. You look around, eyes darting all over the floor for any chance of dirty clothes and then to the fogged-up shower making sure he is still blissfully unaware of the invasion of privacy. Your eyes catch what looks to be another door that you are betting to be his closest, you quickly crawl over and sneak into the closet carefully shutting the door behind you. 

Looking around the closet you see a variety of different clothes ranging from tee shirts and jens to luxury suits and jackets. Your attention falls to a leather jacket that you can’t help but touch, imagining how wonderful he must look in this jacket, what you wouldn’t give…you quietly slap your hands to your cheeks trying to refocus. you're on a mission here! 

Surveying around your eyes lands on what seems to be a dresser. Quickly rushing over you open the first small drawer, socks in various neutral colors. Okay, drawer number two, you open and bingo! There they are Miguel’s assortment of underwear, boxers or briefs? He’s a brief man.

Eyeing the underwear you feel a tinge of embarrassment and guilt looking at his underwear, this is pretty perverse, you already watched him masterbait now taking his underwear? Well, it's only because of the dare that makes it less perverse right? You did get excited from watching him, do you have a problem? Too horny maybe? You shrug that’s something you will ponder another day, today you have a mission. Plunging your hand in the drawer you take the first pair your hand falls to, navy blue. This will have to work!

Still hearing the shower you are thankful he seems to be taking his time. Going to make your escape you head for the door, then just your luck, the shower turns off, fuck. Quickly backtracking to the closet you hide yourself leaving a crack so you peer out to watch. 

Miguel wipes the fogged-up glass of the shower revealing his damp hair cascading down his forehead, the water rolling down his chiseled physique, you feel your heat dripping down as you watch. Note to self find an excuse to pour water on Miguel so you can see him dripping wet again. You watch with intrigue as he swiftly wraps his towel around his narrow waist drawing attention to his deep v.

It takes everything in you to not drool and melt away into a puddle on his floor. Every movement of his routine made you desire him more and more, you were down bad. Miguel brushes his hair back with his hands and that has you almost losing all sense, why is everything he does so sexy? You need to get a grip. Studying him you wait for an opportunity to make your escape without getting caught, just have to be patient now. He's looking at himself in the mirror looking at his jaw and inspecting his face, he then widens his lips to reveal his teeth and fangs on full display.

The sight of his fangs has you holding your breath. That’s right if you get caught he would have no problem using those things on you, actually, that’s not a terrible idea…no! Too horny, get out of here! 

Miguel opens a drawer at the sink and pulls out some floss, he tentatively pulls a long string out and begins to floss around his teeth making sure to go carefully around his fangs. Why is this oddly adorable? Scary Spider man adorably flossing, and very cute. Miguel gets done flossing and licks his teeth, then something you never thought you would ever see. He smiles to himself in the mirror before quickly going back to his permanent neutral state. Too bad he doesn't smile more often; you often try to make him smile when you get to interact with him at work. Telling jokes, funny stories, smiling and waving as you pass him but nothing has ever seemed to work out for you. 

Miguel sighs and shakes his head going away from the mirror to his bedroom. Okay, enough daydreaming you need to get out of here quickly. You decide the best way to sneak out is to crawl on the wall, you start scaling the wall crawling on the ceiling. He left the door to the room open so you peek your head in, and it’s all clear. You crawl through and go to exit his bedroom as you are about to get down to open the door. It swings open causing you to quickly flatten yourself to the ceiling. Miguel walks in with a bottle of water in hand still in a towel from the shower. As he is right under you he stops and sniffs, shit shit! Why does he keep doing that? Do you smell? You took a shower this morning, you should not be smelling. 

As Miguel whips his head side to side you quickly and quietly slip out the bedroom before he has a chance to get wise and look up. 

You quickly get down from the ceiling and start making your pursuit to the door. You did it! You made it, you got the underwear! Oh, the look on Hobie’s face is going to be priceless!

Suddenly, as you are about to reach out to the knob and make your escape, feeling the high of success you are pulled back and swiftly turned around to be met with a crimson-eyed Miguel, and he looks pissed. It’s in this moment you wish to see Miguel who was smiling but you're not getting that side of him you're getting Miguel burning with rage. “I thought I fucking smelled you…” okay wow, ouch? Do you smell bad? Before you can say anything his hand grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks “What are you doing in my room?” 

You stare at him, lips puckered and eyes wide, this is how you die…

Miguel squeezes you harder “Answer me…” he growls, he’s so close to you, you can feel the vibration in his chest, his heat burning your skin his smell invading your senses, it’s intoxicating being this close, he's not wearing a shirt and only in those familiar sweatpants, you can’t help but notice your panties getting soaked. However you can’t get lost in the fantasy right now, you’ve been caught and you need to focus on not losing your life. 

“I’m sorry” you mutter out as best you can. Miguel continues to stare daggers into you, he wants more of an answer than that. 

“I didn’t think you would be here”

Miguel releases your face and now keeps his hands on your arms pinning you to the nearest wall. “Why would you even come in here?” He looks you up and down for a moment and that’s when he sees what’s in your hands, his eyes widening in surprise “Is that…” 

“Wait! Miguel, I can explain! This isn't what it looks like!” 

Miguel tilts his head at you, “Yeah? Because it looks like you're a nasty little perv” 

His derogation sends shivers down your spine and makes your sex even more wet.

Miguel studies you seeing your flushed features, can he sense that you're getting turned on? The answer is yes, “I should have known you were here, your sweet scent tainting the air.” 

Okay, what the hell? You furrow your eyebrows at him “Do I smell? You keep saying that I smell?” 

Miguel lifts an eyebrow at your face still stern but not so much angry “I can smell your arousal pooling in your panties” he grips you tighter “I may not have that little danger alarm like the rest of you but that doesn’t mean my other senses are not heightened. And right now I can smell just how excited you are, was this your plan? Watch me, take my underwear, and get caught? Or is getting caught just a pleasant surprise for you?” 

Miguel lends down whispering in the shell of your ear, his warm breath causing your skin to tingle “And don’t try to deny it” 

Your breath hitches for a moment “I didn't mean to watch it was an accident”

“What about you getting so turned on?” He stares intensely at you, you feel your face flush with embarrassment and clench your thighs together. You are turned on, desperately so. His voice is so sultry, even him bullying you is causing you excitement. Looking into his red eyes his face seems less of rage and more of fascination. 

“I-I couldn't help myself.” 

His hands slowly slide down your arms to your waist, and he buries his head in your neck, smelling you taking you in. The feeling of his breath fanning over your skin makes you think you will instantly melt. Your eyes flutter, closed breath becomes heavy and he rubs his nose slowing up your neck. Finally, he moves away from your neck and looks at your blown-out eyes and flushed cheeks, he smirks, oh you're in danger. 

Miguel suddenly turns you around pressing your chest and face to the wall, his hand grazes your ass before roughly spanking you, causing your hips to buckle forward releasing a high-pitched yelp. His weight leans on you and his knee drives up into your wet cunt, the slight friction makes your head jerk back and clit to tingle. Miguel chuckles and he brings his face into your hair smelling you before reaching and grabbing a handful of hair, pulling slightly. His lips slightly graze your ear as he speaks. 

“You're a bad little slut aren't you?” 

“N-no'm not” 

Another spank smacks across your ass “Oh, I think you are though. Sneaking in here watching me and taking my stuff, good girls don't do that.” He purrs 

He leans more into you and you can feel just how big and hard he is. Miguel's hands find the zipper to your suit slowly zipping it down “Tell me to keep going, tell me how much you want it” 

Pushing yourself from the wall you nod your head, your mind hazy from the desire to be touched more. Forgetting all about pride, forgetting all about the dare, your only thoughts are your desires.

Miguel tsks at you and stops unzipping your suit “Use your words Cariño or I will stop” 

“Yes, I want it! Please!” You whine slightly rubbing yourself on his knee desperate for any kind of friction. 

“What are you bebé?” Releasing the zipper of your suit that now reveals your bare back to him, He swiftly brings a hand to tug your hair, he's going to make you beg and plead, isn't he? Biting your lip you feel him shove his knee further into you, his other hand going to your hip to help guide you as you rub yourself practically riding his knee like a bitch in heat as he continues his torment.  

“Your needly slut! Please just take me Miguel!” 

With that Miguel releases his grip from your hair and hip peeling down your suit revealing your naked body to him, he eyes you for a moment drinking in every curve and dip of your soft skin slowly running his hands down your sides whispering incoherent filth in your ear before he quickly turns you around and scoops you in his arms carrying you to his bedroom. 

He practically kicks his door in tossing you on the bed, before you can get your bearings his hands are on your ankles dragging you closer. He stares intensely at you like a predator about to devour its prey. 

Miguel crawls on top of you, his breath fanning over your lips, he carefully takes his thumb and swipes it over your bottom lip. “Soft…” is all he mutters before he kisses you, softly first then quickly heating up to a sloppy ravenous hunger to taste you. His hands paw all over your body squeezing all over and grabbing handfuls of you desperately. When you break away for air he can't help but  

lick wet stripes on your neck then give you slight nips, his fangs slightly grazing you careful not to break your skin.

He trails down peppering kisses down your heated body, your bra is quickly tossed off of you causing your breast to bounce before him letting out a yelp to the suddenness of his action. Miguel stares for a moment watching your nipples peak, He just smirks and massages them before latching himself to your peaked nipple, first lapping with his tongue before biting with a tug. You moan and whimper at his teasing, playfully biting and licking one as he pinches and pulls the other. 

He travels lower, his eyes staying on your face watching each reaction, he's studying you, he wants to note what every kiss, bite, lick, and tug does to you. When he finally reaches your heated sex he examines your panties, soft blue with a very noticeable dark spot, he rubs his middle finger across your wet panties taking in how your body shakes at his touch and you push yourself into him more. The hard-on in his sweatpants is aching to be released, but he wants to punish you for your perverted behavior.  

“Look at what you have done to your pretty panties princesa, acting like a dirty slut has ruined them” his finger rubs on your clothed clit digging into your folds and ruining your underwear further. You can only moan and plead for him to continue, your cunt aching to be filled with anything, getting impossibly wetter as he continues his teasing. Rocking your hips faster on his finger desperate for friction on your clit, you really are needy. 

 He slaps his hand down on your clothed cunt causing you to jump and moan at the bullying. “No, rushing me princesa” he's making sure to go painfully slow, he wants you to beg for it. 

He slips your panties off slowly, watching your sweetness leak out of you, your needy pussy is clenching around nothing desperate to be filled. You are a rambling mess of pleading and whimpering as Miguel tortures you with his slow lingering touches. Miguel slowly dives his face into your cunt and nose pushing your clit making your body jerk and moan, he takes in your smell getting drunk on your sweet secretion. He lifts his head and leads his head on your thigh “Such a sweet-smelling slut, you know how long you have been teasing me?” 

He starts to run his finger through your slick folds “walking around me all aroused, making me have to smell you without getting to taste you”

He Plunges his finger into you, his large finger going knuckle deep and curling slowly in you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit making your vision blur from how deep he is. As you wetten he slips in another finger filling you up, your breathing becoming desperate, back starts to arch, and hands flying to your hair. He continues his pursuit moving his fingers around your gummy walls searching for that sweet spot of yours. When it's finally found you're seeing stars and clenching tightly on his fingers, your hands flying down to hold his wrist as he continues to make you ride his hand. Miguel just watches as you approach your high “Do you know what all that teasing does to a man?”

He suddenly pulls away as you are reaching your peak. His fingers are glazed with your wetness. Smiling down at you he puts his wet fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean, eyes never leaving yours. He takes them out of with mouth with a pop “Makes a man hungry Hermosa” 

 You have tears pooling in your eyes being robbed of your orgasm, you start begging him to continue whimpering and flustered as he just watches you beg. 

“You're such a needy little slut huh?” 

 Nodding feverishly you agree to everything that leaves his mouth

“You know? I think I know how to correct your bad behavior”

Standing from the bed he removes his sweatpants, his hard cock flicking up to hit his stomach leaving precum in its wake. Staring intently at you he starts pumping his massive cock throbbing for friction. All you can do is watch him wide-eyed sure you saw it earlier but now it's going to be inside of you. His length and girth are so big you don't even know if it would fit in your tight pussy, but you are aquiver to try, whimpering at his display. 

“We got to fuck it out of you Hermosa, you want that? You want me to fill up and teach you a lesson?” 

You nod and spread your legs wider for him. Miguel slips out a moan, eyeing your spread open sex. All for him, begging for him, he almost can't help himself from immediately thrusting into you.  

“Words?” he says, still pumping himself, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes I am bad, teach me a lesson! Fuck me, ah please Miguel!” 

Miguel Grabs your face and laughs at you “No need to beg, such a desperate thing” he shakes his head. Teasing still makes your skin tingle and nipples to perk evermore. Truth be told he loves your begging, he's getting drunk off your eagerness for him. 

He watches as your cunt clenches around nothing begging to be filled. He lines up and slowly rubs his length between your folds gathering your slick before slowly inching in his tip. His cock feels like fire as he slowly stretches you open, heating your soft slick walls. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep from clenching allowing him to slip in.  

“Mm, that’s right, fit it in Hermosa” 

The initial pain quickly becomes pleasure as he splits you open, heating you slowly going inch by inch stretching you deliciously. Your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and you close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over you. Suddenly Miguel slams his full length into you, filling you instantly and bullying into your cervix, the head of his cock nudging your g spot. The sensation causes your eyes to shoot open, you digging your nails into his shoulders and the air in your lungs to escape you.  

“Keep your eyes open and on me” 

Following his demands you watch him, eyes glaze over as you get cock drunk on his relentless rutting. Miguels just laughs as he rolls his hips back and slams into you again and again forcing you to stretch open and take him in. Usually, he would warm someone up a bit more before he starts fucking them so forcefully, but you've been a little pervert so you need to be taught what happens when you're bad. All you can do is moan and shake as he bullies your tight cunt making it form to his shape.

“That's it, baby, take it”

He continues to rut into you pulling back to the tip before slamming back in, thoroughly fucking you dumb. Eyes crossed and mouth hanging open muttering incoherently. Miguel leans down and kisses you sloppily still fucking you at a brutal pace, taking your jaw and making your mouth open wider he spits in your mouth. 

“Swallow” he demains 

Quickly following his demands you swallow and open your mouth again to show him how obedient you can be to him, you really are like a dog.. 

“Good girl” He rewards you by snaking his hand to your clit and rubbing it in circular motions. 

You are quickly approaching your high toes curling, legs wrapping around Miguel's waist, and hands clawing into his back leaving scratch marks painting all the way down his back. Your walls start to clamp down on him.

“Ah, Mig ah Miguel I'm close, please!” 

 His massive cock abusing your sensitive spot has you seeing stars and pussy creaming all over him, leaving a white ring around his cock finally cumming around him. He continues chasing his release as he helps you ride out your orgasm. His cock continues to fill you pulsating as he reaches his orgasm. The sounds of your wet pussy and the slapping of skin fill the room. His rhythm becomes sloppy and pounding harder into you 

“You hear that? Ah, such a needy pussy. Where do you want it huh? When does my dirty slut want my cum? Her stomach? Ah, Face? Mm inside?” 

“Inside!” You beg, approaching your second high. 

“Oh? Do you want me to fill you up? Such a greedy slut aren't you?”

You begin to see white, his relentless pace making your head empty.

“I said, Aren't you!” he pounds harder, making everything shake and you scream in pleasure. 

“Yes! Im so fucking greedy!” you're practically sobbing at the pace he's set. You think you're going to break as he takes your legs and pushes your knees to your face, making him slip what you thought was impossibly deeper. Miguel angles himself that has you clamping down on him squirting out on his cock.  

With that Miguel stops moving, hips completely flushed with you, his body shakes as he releases his hot thick cum inside of you giving out a moan that vibrates through his wide chest. His hot load warms your insides, mixing in with your release causing you to shudder. Miguel looks down at you and smiles still staying in you, he leans his massive body over you and kisses you while pulling out. The emptiness makes you whine and he quickly goes to look at his handy work. 

He holds your ankles out so you have to be stretched before him, your abused clit red and sensitive, your hole filled with his sperm leaking out. Quickly taking his thumb to the escaping mess he pushes it back into your hole causing you to shake with overstimulation. 

“Mm, Such a pretty mess baby.” 

Miguel gets up and heads to his door, he turns to look at your tired body glowing with sweat. 

“I'm going to get you some water, when I get back you better prepare yourself, I'm not done punishing you.” 

You close your thighs together, his words sending a shiver of anticipation back through you as you bite your lip watching him leave.

 You will have to thank Hobie later for picking this dare. 

Miguel laughs, “So you came here to steal my underwear for a dare?” You look over at him with a smirk admiring his nude body in such a relaxed state and giving that smile you have been so desperately dreaming for. 

Eventually, you told him all about the dare game and how you ended up here. You're searching all over the floor for your underwear in the mess of bedding that found its way to the floor in a messy heap. 

 “Look I am not going to back down from a dare, now where are…”.

Miguel whistles and you look up at him as he's holding up your underwear; you reach to grab them from him but he pulls them back causing you to crash down on his bare chest. His other hand instantly curled around you to hold you to him. Once red eyes now dulling down to a brown as he just holds and smiles at you.

 “Take mine, do what you need to do and I will keep these” He balls up your underwear and holds them in a fist behind his head. 

You give him a suspicious look “Why do you want to hang on to them?” 

Miguel chuckles and looks back at you “To make sure you'll come back”

Later you find Hobie, Quin, and Ben sitting down chatting, you march up to the table and throw the navy blue underwear down on the table. They all look at you stunned at the item of clothing in front of them. Your hair was disheveled, lips red and swollen from being kissed, and cheeks still painted with a bit of blush. Hobie raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down noting your appearance, then he smirks. 

“And what took you so long?”

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One, Part Three

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[dksfml]

misfit - lee chan, jeon wonwoo

pairing: student!lee chan x teacher!reader x coworker!jeon wonwoo genre: delinquency, slight violence, major plot twist, love triangle???, slightly suggestive, dino is hot period word count: 6.5k summary: what would you do if you caught yourself in teaching some delinquents (one of whom refuses to take his eyes off you) because of a job that your good friend slash now coworker has offered you? a/n: got inspired while watching study group. AND because I went to a seventeen con a while ago and dino surely got into my bias list. everyone stay safe!!!! enjoyyyyyyy

The morning air was crisp as you walked through the university gates, the golden hues of the rising sun casting long shadows over the quiet campus. This was your first official day as a professor, the culmination of years of studying, passing the licensure exam, and navigating post-graduation uncertainty. You had spent the last year lingering in your small apartment, jobless and wondering if you had chosen the right path—until Jeon Wonwoo offered you an opportunity.

Wonwoo had been your anchor during that uncertain period. You’d met him during your final year of university, and while he had always been somewhat reserved, his sharp intelligence and dry wit had drawn you in. He had a way of making everything seem a little clearer, a little more manageable. When you’d expressed your frustration with not finding a job after passing the licensure exam, he had listened quietly, like he always did, his gaze thoughtful. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you had received an email from him, offering you a position as a lecturer at the university where he worked.

You still remembered that moment—how the weight of that email had felt like a lifeline. And how, when you’d thanked him over a coffee that afternoon, he had shrugged, as if it was nothing. “You’re smart. You deserve a shot,” he’d said, his voice so typically matter-of-fact.

Since then, Wonwoo had become not only a colleague but a steady presence in your life. He was someone you could rely on when things went wrong, and someone who always seemed to have everything under control. His reserved nature was still a mystery, but there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. He had a protective streak that you only began to notice once you started working with him closely—watching him step in when things got too chaotic or when your confidence faltered in front of students.

In those quieter moments, when you shared lunch breaks or brief moments of downtime between classes, he would talk about his own experiences teaching. His insights were always thoughtful, often offering advice without being overbearing. And sometimes, when you were frustrated, he had a way of easing your worries with just a few words. Even when he didn’t directly say it, there was always an underlying sense that he was looking out for you.

You knew that, in a way, Wonwoo had always been a silent mentor—never overtly guiding you, but always there when you needed him. Today, as you stepped into the university grounds, he was still that familiar figure in the background. You might be starting your own journey, but you weren’t doing it alone. Not as long as Wonwoo had your back.

And now, here you were, about to teach your first class.

“You nervous?”

The question came from Wonwoo, who walked beside you, his usual composed and serious expression in place. He was a man of few words, but his presence alone was reassuring.

“A little,” you admitted, adjusting the strap of your bag. “But I’ll be fine.”

Wonwoo hummed, unconvinced. “You’re assigned to 3-C, right?”

“Yes. Why?”

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "You sure you don’t want me to switch with you?"

That made you pause. “Why would I?”

Wonwoo finally looked at you, and for the first time this morning, a flicker of amusement crossed his features. "You’ll see."

You frowned at his cryptic words but brushed it off. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you got me this job. I can’t mess up on my first day.”

Wonwoo didn’t reply, but his silence said enough.

And with that, he walked off to his own classroom, leaving you standing there, confusion brewing in your mind.

With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to Room 3-C.

The moment you reached the door, the realization hit you.

Loud laughter, desks scraping against the floor, students yelling across the room—it was absolute chaos. Some were standing on chairs, others were throwing paper balls, and a few were in the middle of what looked like an arm-wrestling match atop a desk. The noise, the reckless energy, felt overwhelming. You could already feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach as you stepped into the doorway, taking in the scene before you.

You had expected some rowdiness—every first day was a bit chaotic, right? But this... this was different. It wasn’t just rowdiness; it was pure, unbridled anarchy. The kind of behavior that felt almost designed to test your patience and authority. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. This was your first real day as a professor, and it already felt like you were standing at the edge of a precipice.

You exhaled slowly, forcing your feet to move forward. So this is what Wonwoo had meant when he warned you about the challenges of teaching here. The thought barely crossed your mind before you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The moment you crossed the threshold, a wave of noise and disarray seemed to crash over you. No one noticed. It felt almost as if your presence was irrelevant, swallowed by the overwhelming disorder in the room. The loud chatter, the sporadic shouts, the sound of chairs scraping on the floor—all of it blurred into a maddening symphony that made it impossible to focus on anything other than the noise itself.

For a moment, you simply stood there, taking in the madness. You had prepared yourself for some degree of disruption; you weren’t naive. But this? This was beyond anything you’d imagined. Students were climbing over desks, yelling across the room, engaging in loud arguments. The space felt thick with a palpable energy, a sense that no one was in control—not you, not anyone.

You weren’t one to raise your voice unnecessarily. It wasn’t your style. You believed that authority should come from presence, from the subtle ways you commanded respect—not from fear or shouting. You were here to teach, to guide—not to battle. But with every passing second, it became harder to ignore the creeping frustration building within you. The idea of just letting it slide seemed impossible.

And then, as if the universe itself had conspired to give you an out, someone else did it for you.

“Oi.”

The word was simple—short, firm, yet carrying a weight that immediately cut through the chaos. It was the kind of command that silenced a room without raising the volume. The laughter died down almost instantly, and the noise slowed to a muffled hush. You felt your body stiffen, your focus narrowing as you turned toward the back of the room.

There, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, sat a figure. His messy hair and relaxed posture told you everything you needed to know—he’d clearly just woken up from some kind of nap, and yet, his presence was commanding. The room had fallen silent for him as easily as if he were a force of nature.

Lee Chan.

As he met your gaze, the air between you shifted. His dark eyes gleamed under the dim morning light, unreadable but intense. There was a certain sharpness to him, like a predator sizing up its prey. It was unsettling, but you refused to be intimidated. You weren’t here to be cowed by anyone, least of all a student, no matter how powerful his presence might be.

You didn’t need to be told who he was—you could see it in the way the room moved around him. The students had instantly fallen silent at his command, all of them snapping to attention as if they knew, deep down, that this was a battle they would lose if they defied him.

Chan tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, in a voice that was still calm, but not without authority, he spoke again.

“Sit down. The teacher’s here.”

The effect was immediate and almost eerie. The class scrambled to obey, students shuffling quickly back into their seats. The previously rampant chaos dissolved into nothingness in the span of a few heartbeats. Chairs scraped across the floor in a rush of motion as everyone rushed to restore some semblance of order.

Your grip tightened around the roster in your hands. It was subtle, but the realization settled in: Lee Chan had more authority over these students than you did. In fact, he had more authority over this classroom than anyone, and they all knew it.

Still, you couldn’t let yourself be rattled. You refused to let this one student dictate the rhythm of the room. You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and met Chan’s gaze once more. “Thank you,” you said, your voice calm but firm.

He didn’t respond. Instead, his dark eyes simply continued to study you with a quiet intensity, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingered for a moment before he turned away, clearly losing interest.

Turning your attention back to the roster, you began calling out names, trying to push the lingering tension aside. It would be easy to focus on Chan—his presence was like a weight pressing down on your chest—but you couldn’t let that control the way you conducted the class.

That is, until a voice from the back of the room snapped your attention back into focus.

“She would do better as a camgirl.”

The words came from one of the students—a boy with a cocky grin and an air of entitlement that grated against your calm. The remark hit like a slap, echoing in your mind as the room fell into a tense, suffocating silence.

You paused, fingers tightening around the paper, a slow burn igniting within you. It wasn’t the first time you had encountered disrespect, but something about the casualness of the comment—the way it seemed to roll off his tongue without any regard for your presence—struck a nerve.

You lifted your gaze, voice even but sharp as you locked eyes with the student. “What was that?”

The student—Kang Jaemin, according to your roster—smirked, sinking deeper into his chair. “Just saying,” he drawled. “You’d make more money doing something else. We’d all tune in, wouldn’t we, boys?” He winked, nudging his friends. A couple of them chuckled in response.

It was immature. It was crude. And it was unnecessary. You stood there, breath held, trying to decide whether to ignore it or shut it down immediately. You had faced worse—much worse—in your teaching career. You knew that responding with anger or frustration would only fuel the fire.

But before you could even form a reply, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor shattered the silence.

Without a word, Chan kicked his desk forward with a force that made everyone in the room flinch. The room went completely still, the air thick with tension as all eyes turned to him. His gaze was cold, hard—focused solely on Jaemin, who was still lounging in his chair, clearly oblivious to the danger he was in.

“Apologize,” Chan said, his voice low but filled with unspoken menace.

Jaemin scoffed, rubbing his nose like it was no big deal. “What’s it to you, boss?” He flashed a grin, trying to play it cool, but his eyes flickered nervously as he took in Chan’s stance.

A nervous whisper came from beside him. “Hey, Jaemin, just drop it. Chan’s already in a bad mood this morning,” his seatmate muttered, voice barely above a breath.

Chan didn’t move from his seat, his eyes never leaving Jaemin. His voice was steady, even calm, but there was a weight to it that made every student in the room uneasy. “She’s our teacher,” Chan said quietly. “You respect her, or you leave.”

The command hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. For a moment, the classroom seemed to hold its breath. Students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging glances as the tension between Jaemin and Chan grew.

Jaemin opened his mouth, clearly about to argue, but Chan’s eyes hardened, and he tilted his head ever so slightly—a subtle but unmistakable warning.

Jaemin hesitated. But only for a moment. Then, the challenge came.

“Or what?” he scoffed, his lip curling in defiance.

Chan exhaled slowly through his nose, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked on Jaemin with a quiet intensity that sent a chill through the room. The silence that followed was suffocating. His voice was calm but held a deadly weight. “Or I’ll make you.”

The tension in the classroom thickened, becoming almost palpable. Students shifted nervously in their seats, their eyes darting back and forth between Chan and Jaemin, sensing that something had shifted—something beyond their control. Some leaned forward, watching the confrontation with bated breath, while others instinctively backed away from the desks nearest the two boys, as though expecting an explosion.

Jaemin scoffed, brushing his fingers through his hair as he leaned back in his chair, trying to exude the same arrogance that had caused the conflict in the first place. “You think you can order me around just ‘cause everyone here’s scared of you?” His voice was mocking, almost too casual for the moment. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Man, you’re pathetic. What, got a little crush on the new teacher?”

The taunt hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite. That was all it took.

Chan’s movement was so fast, it was almost a blur. Before Jaemin could react, Chan was on him, his fist connecting with Jaemin’s jaw in a sharp, brutal crack! The impact echoed across the room, and Jaemin was sent stumbling backward into the desk behind him, his knees buckling as he struggled to regain his balance. The sound of the punch resonated like a thunderclap in the stillness that followed.

Gasps erupted from the students, the force of the blow sending shockwaves through the class. Those nearest to the altercation scrambled to get out of the way, chairs screeching against the floor as they instinctively shifted back, creating space. The tension had finally come to a head—and it was as chaotic as it was terrifying.

Jaemin wiped his lips, his fingers coming away stained with blood. His face twisted into a grotesque mask of rage as he glared at Chan, barely able to contain his fury. “You son of a—!”

Before Jaemin could finish his sentence, he lunged forward, a primal, reckless move driven by anger. His fist swung at Chan, but the other boy was already one step ahead. With a fluid motion, Chan caught Jaemin’s wrist mid-air, twisting it back so sharply that Jaemin let out a grunt of pain. The force of the move sent Jaemin to his knees, his face contorted with both shock and fury as he struggled to free himself from Chan’s iron grip.

The entire classroom was frozen, watching with wide eyes as Chan’s expression remained cold, calm, and terrifyingly controlled. There was no wildness to him—no desperation. His composure made the whole scene even more unnerving.

“You don’t talk to any woman like that,” Chan’s voice was low, dangerous, the words dripping with an almost chilling finality. “That’s not so gentleman of you.”

Jaemin’s face twisted with more rage, his breath coming in harsh pants. “Like I care what you think—” he spat back, but the words were drowned out by the mounting tension in the room.

Just as Jaemin struggled to break free, another loud bang rang out through the room—this time, it wasn’t from the students or the fight. Everyone froze, the noise so sharp it cut through the chaos like a knife.

At the door stood Jeon Wonwoo, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed directly on the fight in front of him. His presence alone was enough to send a wave of unease through the students, like a cold front sweeping in, freezing the energy in the room. The sharp clack of his shoes against the floor was the only sound as he stepped forward, his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

His gaze flicked to the two boys, and then, without hesitation, his voice rang out, cold and authoritative. “Break it up.”

The command was simple, but it carried a weight that no one could ignore. Chan’s eyes flickered toward the other professor for a brief moment, an imperceptible hesitation passing through him, before he released Jaemin. Jaemin stumbled to his feet, still seething, his chest heaving with rage, but there was little he could do. His pride had taken a blow that he couldn’t easily recover from, and the air in the room seemed to settle just slightly as the two boys were forcibly separated.

Before anyone could breathe a sigh of relief, the door burst open again, this time with the arrival of the student council president and another professor. They moved swiftly into the room, their presence immediately commanding the space. Within seconds, both Chan and Jaemin were being pulled away, their bodies being guided toward the door by the authority of the faculty and student leaders. The chaotic energy that had pervaded the room for what felt like an eternity dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving only the echo of the confrontation hanging in the air.

And just like that, it was over.

The class sat in stunned silence. The atmosphere felt thick, almost suffocating, as if no one knew what to say after witnessing such a volatile moment. Some students exchanged nervous glances, others seemed almost relieved that the tension had been broken, but no one dared to speak out of turn.

You exhaled slowly, rubbing your temples, trying to process everything that had just happened. Your head throbbed with the weight of the moment, the emotional whiplash of what you had just witnessed settling deep in your bones. The chaotic flare of violence, the tension, the unsettling silence—it was enough to leave anyone rattled. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so shaken, but there was no time to dwell on it. You still had a class to run—one that had just seen more than its fair share of drama.

The room remained heavy with silence, save for the occasional rustle of someone shifting uncomfortably in their seat. No one seemed quite ready to move on, the air thick with lingering unease, like a storm that hadn't quite passed.

Wonwoo stood beside you, his presence a quiet anchor amidst the unsettling atmosphere. His sharp gaze flickered over your face, a quick scan as though searching for any hint of lingering distress. It was a habit of his, the subtle way he kept track of everyone around him, always assessing.

“You okay?” His voice was steady, familiar—like a grounding force in the midst of chaos.

You exhaled slowly again, grounding yourself. “I’m fine,” you murmured, adjusting the papers in your hands as if that simple motion could erase the chaotic energy that had flooded the classroom. But the image of Chan, that brief glance he had thrown your way before disappearing down the hallway, lingered in your mind like an echo.

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze briefly flicking to the classroom before turning toward the door. His attention shifted elsewhere, but something in his posture, the small shift in his stance, told you he was still watching you. Observing. “Let’s just get through today, alright?” he said, a quiet suggestion more than a command.

At the far end of the room, just before stepping out, Chan paused. His back was to the door, but his eyes flickered back—just for a second—across the room. The briefest glance, but enough to make your stomach tighten. He wasn’t looking at you, not exactly. But it was as though he had taken note of everything. Of you. The way he looked at the scene, the way he committed it all to memory, was unsettling. Then, just as quickly, he was gone.

You couldn’t help but wonder what’s inside his head.

The faculty room was quieter, but the atmosphere was still charged, the earlier events hanging in the air like a storm cloud, ready to break. You sat at a corner table, trying to concentrate on the papers in front of you, but your mind kept returning to that fight. The way the room had shifted the moment Chan stepped in. The look in his eyes. Something about him felt different. Dangerous. And you had a creeping feeling you hadn’t seen the last of it.

Professor Kim, the head of the disciplinary committee, sighed heavily, adjusting her glasses. “The fight was disruptive and violent. This cannot be ignored. Both of them need to be disciplined appropriately.”

Professor Park, ever quick to share his thoughts, didn’t hesitate. “Jaemin, of course, has a long history of problems. We can’t say we didn’t expect this. But Lee Chan…” He trailed off, his tone shifting as though weighing something in his mind. “He’s not a student we can easily overlook. He’s a troublemaker—just in a different way.”

Your brow furrowed slightly as the name “Lee Chan” reverberated in your mind. From what you had heard, he was intelligent, sharp—his grades were impressive, even top-tier. But the way he carried himself? The silence that followed him, like a lingering shadow? It didn’t add up. Something didn’t feel right.

Professor Choi, usually reserved, leaned forward, adding to the conversation with a rare intensity. “He gets good grades, yes. But that doesn’t mean we should let his actions slide. His reputation alone is enough to make anyone hesitate. He’s not just a student—hell this school is named after his family name. Though no students here knows that fact, his presence still command respect, or fear. He makes people follow him, just by being in the room.”

You listened intently, absorbing every word, every hesitation. You had heard the rumors about Chan even before you came into this school, whispers in the hallways, the unease that followed him like a dark cloud. But until now, you hadn’t fully realized the weight of it all. The way people avoided his gaze, the way others seemed to bend to his will without question. You were amazed by the realness of it all.

Wonwoo spoke up then, his tone calm, but his words carrying an unexpected weight. “Chan might be smart, but he’s trouble. He’s one of those students who uses his reputation to get what he wants. He’s not above intimidation, and that’s something we can’t afford to ignore.”

You glanced at Wonwoo, surprised by his bluntness. He wasn’t someone who typically spoke so openly about students—at least, not those who still managed to keep their grades up despite their behavior. It was almost as if he knew something you didn’t.

Professor Kim raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “And you think his good grades should excuse his actions, professor? Because his grades don’t justify a fight. He’s crossed a line.”

Wonwoo sighed, a fleeting flicker of frustration crossing his features. “I’m not saying we should excuse his behavior. But Chan has a way of manipulating situations. If we come down too hard on him, it could make things worse. He’s the kind of student who doesn’t respond well to authority, and if we push him too far, it could escalate.”

The room fell silent for a moment, as if everyone was processing the implications of his words. The tension between caution and confrontation hummed in the air, unresolved.

Professor Park narrowed his eyes, a sharp edge to his voice. “So, what are you suggesting? That we give him a pass just because he knows how to make people scared of him?”

“No,” Wonwoo replied, his voice steady and certain. “But we need to be careful. We can’t treat Chan like any other student. He has a way of turning things to his advantage, of twisting situations. And this is not just because his family own this school. This is because he built his reputation that way, making other students afraid of him. If we push him too far, we risk triggering something we might not be able to control. He’s not like the rest of them.”

The conversation settled into a heavy silence, each person wrestling with their thoughts.

Finally, Professor Kim let out a long breath, her fingers tapping lightly against the papers in front of her. “We’ll put both students in detention for the time being. Jaemin, no surprise there. But with Chan…” She paused, as if trying to weigh the possible consequences of her next words. “He’s not the type to back down, and we need to keep that in mind moving forward.”

It had been one of those days—busy, slightly chaotic, but nothing out of the ordinary. You found yourself sorting through papers at your desk when a familiar voice broke through the quiet hum of the faculty room.

“Hey, you’re looking pretty focused there. Are you sure you’re not trying to work yourself to the bone?” Wonwoo’s voice had that familiar teasing tone, and you could almost hear the faint smile behind it.

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Says the guy who spends half his time pretending to read the reports when he’s just watching the clock,” you retorted, leaning back in your chair.

He chuckled, pushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’m just keeping an eye on you. Don’t want you getting lost in all that paperwork.”

You shook your head, amused. “If I get lost, I’ll just call you for help. But I’m sure you’d rather be napping in the staff lounge, huh?”

His eyes narrowed playfully. “I’m a responsible adult. I don’t nap during work hours.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Well, not all the time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I should start timing your breaks, see how long you really go without a nap.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, I’m more efficient than you think.” He tapped a finger against his temple. “Don’t forget, I’m the one keeping the department running smoothly.”

You leaned forward, matching his teasing tone. “I’m sure the students would beg to differ. They’ve all been talking about you.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, his face unreadable for a moment before a grin tugged at his lips. “What about me?”

You leaned back again, crossing your arms with a playful smile. “Oh, nothing. Just that you’ve been the silent hero in the background. Maybe you’ve earned a fan club.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling up at the corners. “A fan club, huh? I like the sound of that. Just make sure you don’t join it.”

You shot him a wink, amused by his overconfidence. “I don’t need to. I already have my own fan club.”

His grin widened, but before he could say anything more, the conversation shifted, and the teasing between the two of you faded into comfortable silence.

A few days later, you were buried under paperwork once again, the weight of the past week pressing down on you. Your phone buzzed with another unrecognized number, and you ignored it, frustrated. But then, almost instinctively, you found yourself dialing a number you’d been trying to reach all day—Chan’s number.

You sighed in frustration, tapping your fingers against the desk as the phone rang. “Come on, pick up already…” you muttered under your breath.

The soft click of the door opening made you freeze, and you quickly turned your phone’s screen away, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

“Who are you calling?” Wonwoo’s voice broke through your thoughts, low and inquiring.

You froze, trying to play it cool, but the tension in your shoulders betrayed you. “It’s… just someone,” you said quickly, attempting to brush it off.

Wonwoo stepped closer, leaning against the edge of your desk. His eyes flickered to your phone before meeting your gaze, and there was a knowing look in his eyes. “Is that the fifth time today? They still aren’t answering?”

Your stomach twisted. Wonwoo was always perceptive, but this time, it felt like he could read you like an open book. You cleared your throat, trying to keep your tone steady. “It’s not a big deal,” you muttered. “Just trying to get in touch with a student. He’s been… absent.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not missing the way your fingers tightened around the phone. His voice softened, his teasing tone slipping into something more serious. “It’s Lee Chan, isn’t it?”

Your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t just guessing. He knew. You hesitated for a moment, before nodding slightly, feeling the weight of the conversation settling in.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “He hasn’t been showing up to class, and he missed his detention after the fight last week. He was supposed to work in the library after class, but… I haven’t heard from him.”

Wonwoo’s gaze didn’t leave you as he processed the information. “He’s been avoiding you?” His tone held a quiet concern, though there was still that ever-present edge of curiosity in his voice. “Isn’t that a bit… unusual for him? I thought he usually showed up when he needed something.”

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and unease wash over you. “Yeah, I thought so too. But it’s been days now. I’m not sure what’s going on. He’s always been hard to reach, but he’s never just ignored things like this.” You paused, your mind racing with the possibilities. “I’m worried something’s happened.”

Wonwoo gave you a long look, as if trying to gauge the situation. “Chan’s the type to do things his own way,” he said softly. “Maybe he’s just making a point. Or maybe he’s not ready to deal with the consequences yet.”

Your fingers tightened on the phone again, the thought of Chan slipping further away from your reach gnawing at you. “I just don’t want to let it slide. He has to face the consequences, but I don’t know how to make him show up.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened, just slightly, as he straightened up. “He won’t make it easy for you. But if you want him to show up, you’ll have to push a little harder.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But that’s what you do, right? You get the students to listen.”

There was a certain understanding in his words that made you pause. Wonwoo didn’t say it outright, but he knew how hard you’d been trying to reach Chan, and how important it was that you got through to him.

You gave a short, tight smile, grateful for the insight. “Yeah, I guess I’ll just have to find a way to get through to him.”

Wonwoo nodded and gave you a small, knowing smile. “Let me know if you need help with that.” His tone had returned to its usual teasing edge, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel like he wasn’t just offering help on a whim.

“Thanks,” you said, though your mind was already elsewhere, focusing on what you could do next. After a brief moment, Wonwoo left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You stared at your phone for a moment, the unanswered calls piling up in your call log. Chan wasn’t just skipping school—is he avoiding you? That would made everything feel far more complicated. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of game he was playing this time.

You made your way back to your apartment, your mind still racing with the events of the day. The walk had done little to clear your head. The sky had darkened by the time you reached the familiar building, and the usual hum of city life seemed distant, almost muffled, as if the world around you was out of focus. The weight of everything, your new role, the chaos in your classroom, and the unresolved tension settled in your chest.

As you approached your apartment door, you realized something was off. The hallway light flickered overhead, casting strange shadows along the walls, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the door itself. The door to your apartment, which you were sure you had locked this morning, was ajar. Just slightly, but enough to make your stomach twist with unease.

You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Your instincts told you to back away, to go back downstairs and find someone, anyone, but you remained rooted in place. You had been living here for months without issue, and yet now, in the quiet of the night, the very thought that someone could have been inside your space felt foreign and terrifying.

You stepped forward cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest. Every step felt heavier than the last, and you felt a shiver creep down your spine. The door creaked softly as you pushed it open a little further, and you glanced inside. The apartment was dark, but nothing seemed out of place. The silence was unsettling, too perfect, like it was waiting for you to make the next move.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stood just inside the doorway, your hand still on the handle. Every part of you screamed to leave, to turn and run back down the stairs, but you couldn’t. You had to know. Had you forgotten to lock the door? Was this a mistake? Or was someone else in there?

The moment you stepped into your apartment, something felt off.

A slow, uneasy breath left your lips as you carefully pushed the door open, stepping inside with cautious, measured steps. The dim lighting from the street outside spilled through the window, casting long shadows against the walls.

Then—

“Oh, you’re back already?”

That familiar voice sent a sharp jolt through your body, but not from fear. From pure, unfiltered frustration.

Your head snapped toward the couch, where he sat so casually, one arm resting over the backrest, his legs sprawled out like he owned the place. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips as his dark eyes drank in your stunned expression.

Lee Chan.

You exhaled sharply, tension flooding your body as you stormed toward him. Without hesitation, you smacked his broad shoulder—hard.

“You—!” Your voice wavered, caught between anger and relief. “Why are you not answering my calls?”

Chan barely flinched, only tilting his head slightly as he watched you with that irritatingly amused expression. Then, in one swift motion, he stood, his arms wrapping around you before you could escape.

“Now, why is my pretty teacher crying?” His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something in the way he pulled you against his chest, how his hands instinctively found your waist, that made your stomach flip.

You clenched your jaw, your hands gripping his hoodie. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?”

Chan let out a short exhale, like your concern was misplaced.

“Worried about me?”

“Yes, worried about you, you idiot!” You pushed at his chest just enough to glare up at him. “You didn’t show up for detention. You haven’t been at school. You disappeared, Chan. I kept calling, but you never picked up. What was I supposed to think?”

His gaze flickered across your face, unreadable. Then, his lips curled into something almost smug.

“Do every teacher worry about their students like this?”

Your stomach twisted at his words, heat creeping up your neck.

You smacked his chest. “You know what I mean.”

He groaned dramatically, tilting his head back. “Ugh, I hate this.”

“Hate what?” You narrowed your eyes, suddenly remembering exactly why you were so furious with him in the first place.

“Sitting in that classroom, watching you teach, pretending you’re just another professor, when I know I could grab you anytime and kiss you so hard you forget your own name.”

His voice was low, raw with frustration, and the way he looked at you made your breath catch in your throat.

Your lips parted, but before you could say anything, he scoffed under his breath.

“This is exactly why I told you not to accept Wonwoo’s offer.”

Your brows furrowed, irritation flaring inside you. “We’re not doing this again.”

Chan’s grip on you tightened slightly, his jaw clenching. “Yes, we are. You knew what would happen if you started working there. You knew there was a chance you’d be assigned to my class, and you still took the job.”

Your hands curled into fists against his hoodie. “What was I supposed to do, Chan? Turn down a stable job just because you don’t like it?”

“Yes.” His answer came without hesitation, sharp and unyielding.

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“No, I’m being realistic.” His voice dropped, something darker lacing his words. “Do you know how much I hate seeing you there? How much it pisses me off when I have to sit through a lesson and pretend I don’t want to pull you out of that classroom and keep you all to myself?”

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat pounding against your ribs.

“I told you it would be difficult,” he continued, his fingers pressing lightly into your waist. “I told you I wouldn’t handle it well, and now look. I can’t even focus in that damn classroom, because all I can think about is how wrong it feels for you to be standing there, acting like I’m just another student.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was being selfish, but deep down, you knew—he wasn’t lying.

It had been hard.

Harder than you expected.

Keeping your relationship hidden, pretending there was nothing between you when the weight of his gaze alone was enough to unravel you. And when he stopped showing up to class, when he ignored your calls—it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

Your shoulders sagged slightly. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Chan.”

He studied you for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t want you to do anything. I just…” His fingers brushed against your cheek, his voice softer now. “I hate this. I hate not being able to have you the way I want.”

Something inside you cracked at his words.

You reached up, your fingers threading through his hair as you exhaled shakily. “I hate it too.”

Chan smirked, but there was no teasing behind it this time—only something knowing, something bittersweet.

His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing against yours.

“Then let’s stop pretending,” he murmured.

It was as if the air between you shifted—thick with tension, unspoken words, and the heat that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

Chan’s fingers brushed over your shoulders as he slid your coat off, letting it fall to the side without a second thought. His touch lingered, slow and deliberate, as he guided you toward the kitchen table.

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

“Chan…” you started, voice barely above a whisper.

But he was already behind you, his presence overwhelming, his hands warm as they rested on your waist. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Now,” his voice was low, filled with something dangerous, something utterly possessive.

“Bend for me, my love.”

[wordssricochet]

💬 — Hello !! Just the usual reminders, I am still learning. Please do not expect my work to be perfect, English is not my first language. That is all, thank you.

⚠ — rejection, bullying, draco being stupid, hurtful words, mischaracterization of Blaise Zabini (I guess, we had to do it for the plot)

📝 — ♡ (fluff) + ☣︎ (angst)

#⃣ — 1270 words

📹 — based on the movie "Flipped" (one of my comfort movies)

_________________________________________________

Flipped | D. M |

by wordssricochet™

_________________________________________________

Growing up as a troublemaker kid, you were always rejected for affection. Thus, anyone who would even look at your way would be bombarded with your attention and affection.

And that anyone, fortunately —for you— is Draco Malfoy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Heart eyes again, yeah, Y/N? " Fred Weasley —your best friend's brother who is also your best friend— elbows you.

"I honestly don't get what you see in that blondie, " George adds, "I mean, he's.. good looking and all, but his personality? Askaban! "

You simply just roll your eyes at the twins, focusing your attention again on Draco. Or Dray-Dray, as you nicknamed him (He never liked it, and would glance at you with a disgusted look. You loved his face though.)

A few minutes passed by and the boy and his gang of Slytherin friends leave for their classes. Now, you were left wondering about what Draco's type is. It just suddenly came up in your mind! But what is his type? Is it like you? Or is his type those pureblood girls that bullies first years? Hopefully not, hopefully not Pansy Parkinson.

"I wonder if his type is even closer to me.. you know, a fun but serious girl? " You questioned yourself.

"Oy, don't flatter yourself, Y/N. Since when were you serious? " Ron snickers, followed by Hermione hitting his arms.

"But seriously, Y/N, why him? I mean, there's Cedric-", " Too old for me" You interrupted Hermione.

"Okay.. what about Longbottom? He's a nice guy. " She gives you a warm look.

You almost wanted to cackle at Hermione's suggestion, "Seriously, Hermione? Neville is the complete opposite of Dray-Dray. "

"And that's exactly why I wanted you to give him a try, plus, the Yule Ball is in 2 weeks already, " She plastered a smirk on her face, "Let's be real, Y/N, You have no chance with Malfoy.

"I'm aware.. but still! " You insist.

Hermione gave a long sigh, "Do what you want then. But remember, I warned you! " She glances at you with a worried look.

"I'll be fine. "

Your classes for today ended and you went straight to Fred and George.

"Okay.. How do I look? " You fixed your hair. You put a clip on it and put the remaining hair behind your ears.

"Stunning", " Gorgeous" , the twins replied at the same time.

"You got this, Y/N! Plus, if ever that Malfoy prick rejects you, I'll go with you at the Yule Ball. " George says with a reassuring smile.

"Now, off you go! " Fred says, as he gives your back a soft tap.

"Dray- Draco, can we talk? " You ask while fiddling your fingers. It's been at least 5 years since you guys last talked, since his father found out about your friendship.

Draco and his friends glanced at each other, a smirk coming up on all their faces.

"Sure, what is it that you want to talk about? "

"Can we please talk in private? "

".. fine. "

"So, what is it? " Draco started, looking down at your rather smaller figure.

"Um, look, I've been meaning to tell you this since we were kids, " You gave a short inhale,

"Malfoy, I really like you. You were the first person to ever look at me like I'm a normal person, and not some nuisance to society. I've liked you since the day that I met you, the day that we met by the sea shore when you were taking a rest because of all the moving houses thing going on. I really appreciate your kindness toward me.. Well, towards me in the past. I hope that we can be friends again, or even more than that. So Dray-Dray, will you please go to Yule Ball with me? " You let out a long exhale as you said all those words in a span of 30 seconds.

"How pathetic can you be, Y/L/N? " He lets out a chuckle, "For Merlin's sake, are you even capable of being embarrassed? You're honestly the most annoying person I've ever known in my whole life! Since the day that.. "

You couldn't even hear what Draco was saying anymore, you just stood there, your ears ringing. Your vision started to blur. Your body can't physically move at this moment, like you've been paralyzed. After what seemed like an eternity (which is just 3 minutes for Draco), you finally gained consciousness.

"- I feel disgusted and offended that you can even think about being with me, hell, being friends with m-" You cut him off by saying sorry and ran away, just like you did when all those kids from your childhood bullied you.

It all started coming back to you, and you hated Draco for being the reason why.

You headed straight back to your house's common room and straight to your dorm. You ignored all your housemates asking if you were okay.

You flopped on your bed, head onto the pillow. You started letting all your emotions drain you.

These past few days, you started ignoring Draco more and more. You flooded yourself with academics and friends, specifically George Weasley.

You never stare at him in classes anymore, not even in the Great Hall. You started avoiding him at all costs. You couldn't even handle being in the same hallway as him. It makes you teary eyed whenever you remember the things he said to you.

Of course, Draco Malfoy had noticed the drastic change in your demeanor, too. He no longer had this Gryffindor stalking him around. He no longer had this girl that would send him chocolate frogs whenever she goes to Hogsmeade.

He should be glad, that's what Pansy tells him.

"Well, well, well, congratulations, Malfoy. You no longer had an obsessive stalker that would smell your hair whenever she's beside you in charms class! " Blaise Zabini chuckles, as he claps his hands together.

"Mission successful, I guess, huh? " Theodore Nott added.

Draco stayed silent, not answering any remarks, not looking at anyone.

"Anyway, Draco, would you mind going to the Yule Ball with me? " Pansy asks with hope in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Draco was dying inside at the faint mention of the Yule Ball. He remembered what he had said, and what he had lost.

Draco suddenly stood up from the couch of the common room and left the room before anyone could even ask what's going on.

"'m going to make things right, " Draco muttered to himself as he looks for you. Little did he know that Blaise was following him.

"Dude! Malfoy! Wait up! " Zabini yells as he grabs his best friend's arm, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Pansy Parkinson, the finest Slytherin, just asked you if you wanted to go the ball with her. And you're here, bailing? Completely ignoring her? " Blaise yells, trying to put some sense into his friend.

"I already have someone I'm going with. "

"Who? Astoria Greengrass? Merula Synde?"

"None of those, idiot! "

"Who then? Y/N Y/L/N?"

Draco went silent at the mere mention of your name. Blaise looked discombobulated.

"What the hell, man? You're bailing Pansy Parkinson for Y/N Y/L/N? Are you insane?! "

"I don't know anymore, Zabini! I-I don't know what I'm feeling! "

"Are you really that bloody stupid, mate? You rejected her! Countless of times! We even laughed at her silly love letters together with Nott! "

"They were not silly, Zabini, you just.. don't understand. "

"Oh, I don't understand, alright! You hate her, Y/N, since the first year! "

"That's the thing, Zabini, I don't think I hate her now. "

"You've gone mental, man! I'm telling you! Have you flipped?! "

"Trust me, Blaise, I have no idea. "

💬 — hi !! OM GOSH, idk how to end this!! but i'm thinking either angst or fluff.. i still haven't planned. although, i finally found the perfect schedule when dropping fics (not like anyone cares); sundays in philippine time. anyway! i MIGHT make a masterlist now (with 2 fics in them lmao)

Sincerely, March.

[luvnaomixo]

✧.* PLAYING ALL THESE SONGS FOR ME (희승)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ᭄᭡ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ⋆. Your at a party, you were dragged here but you know that you wanted to talk to someone by the end of the night. Heeseung wasn't here by choice either but you two seem to have a very, VERY nice time

˚｡⋆ 𝒫𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. student!heeseung x fem!reader — 825wc.

stangers to lovers, kissing, lil suggestive. ༝༚༝༚ … fluff overall 𝜗𝜚.

• 𝗻𝗮𝗼𝗺𝗶: second story! tysm for the love on my first ff! <3

The thumping bass of the party overflows your body once you walk in the house. You had drove all the way out to the valley to come to this party. Coming with your friends saying “this party is going to be so good. especially if it’s Jaeyun’s party —you should definitely come y/n!”. Knowing you, you’d only go to parties to hook up. If you were being honest this week was NOT your week. but you might end up doing something different for a change..

You were wearing a cute sparkling halter top that snatched your figure so nicely with a black skirt that could be ever so short, completing the outfit with black boots. Some might call it plain but you looked fucking good. A few minutes into the party, You were already talking to familiar faces and have a good time when you hear a voice in the background calling your name…

“Y/n! —What’s good??” Sim Jaeyun walks up to you with open arms ready to give you a hug. “jake how’ve u been?” giving him a good hug “i’ve been great pretty, hey um do you want a drink?” Jake asks pointing his thumb to the alcohol behind him . “I think i’m good for now, i don’t really feel like drinking tonight”. “alright just lemme know what you need and I gotchu” jake says while walking backwards getting back to the party but making sure not to break eye contact with you. You took a few shots.. don’t really feel like drinking my ass, you needed this if anything. Not an amount to get you turnt up or anything, you just wanted to feel something but you turn your back to see a familiar guy in the corner… he’s pretty cute. You think to yourself since your friends already went to talk to people might as well talk to someone in the meanwhile.

Once you get closer to the boy in the corner you see the face of the familiar guy more clearly. Its Heeseung! God you take it back he’s SO FINE. He was so underdressed for this and it wasn’t even like a dress code or anything. dude had the most plain outfit on but god he looked so good it didn’t even matter. Heeseung was sitting on a couch, cup in hand, manspreading and you swore to god something was screaming inside of you. He adjusted in his seat looking anywhere but at the crowd of laughing carefree people dancing. A soft voice cutting thought his zoning out.

“can i sit here?” He looked up at you, you smiling at the boy. you didn’t wait for an answer though you just sat down next to him.

“i saw you sitting here looking like you were plotting something” your tone was teasing but kind. It made him feel nice. He chuckled running his hands thought his hair. “Sounds about right. I was practically dragged out here.”

“me too,” you admitted. Putting your legs up to curl with the half side of your body leaning on the couch. “But we’re here saur..” “I’m y/n.” you introduced yourself. “y/n~” he says back in a calm low voice. You didn’t know but something about him saying your name back after introducing yourself made you wanna faint then and there. “heeseung..” he said looking away taking a sip of his drink. “i’ve seen you on campus no?” he asks. “yeah i’ve seen you two” “i knew you were familiar i would’ve remembered such a pretty face” heeseung adds and you literally feel your knees weaken. “did you get a drink yet?” heeseung asks. “a few shots” you say taking his cup and taking a sip of whatever he was drinking. You looked at him while taking a sip. Heeseung was looking at you the. whole. time. It was something about your glossy full lips on HIS cup. You could see heeseung adjusting his pants. It had been a few minutes of you two talking and you swore if anyone else was looking at you two they would think you guys were seconds away from making out.

At some point, the music shifted to something slower. You wanting to dance at least once tonight and if that meant it would be heeseung up on you grabbing you from the waist down you were gonna do it. “come on, let’s dance”. he hesitated, glancing at the small crowd swaying the middle of the room thinking it was small so why not. he puts his drink down and gets up to dance with you.

You two shifted to a smaller, quieter spot near the corner of the room. where you could still hear the music but didn’t feel so exposed to everyone else. You placed his hands on your waist and your hands around his neck. “Not so bad”. heeseung felt his cheeks warm up and smiled. Before you knew it you both were looking at eachother swaying to the music… he was so handsome it wasn’t even funny. You could feel his eyes looking at you so intensely. His hands were so big.. you could literally feel playing with your skirt before he slipped a hand under there and you literally could feel yourself fold. he whispers in your ear “you look so cute right now it’s unbelievable”. you go up on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek before looking at him with a cute lil smile, resting your head on his chest. You hope this moment would never ever end.

But unfortunately the song had came to an end and heeseung saw your soft expression and your eyes locked for a moment. You felt Heeseung’s hand brush a strain of hair from your face. he leaned in and you met him halfway. The kiss was so sweet. You could taste the jack(alcohol) he was drinking earlier but it didn’t matter because it was heeseung you were tasting. You could feel him deepening the kiss as he rested his whole arm to rap around your waist before you two broke apart. You both smiled at eachother, your cheeks flushed and his lips swollen. “this party got a whole lot better” you stated and heeseung chuckled.

“wanna get outta here?” heeseung said with his heart racing.

you nodded, and you two slipped out the building unnoticed by anyone. You and heeseung made it out of the building and heeseung walks towards his jeep and unlocks the it. you think to yourself. i’m not going home tonight…

2024 © luvnaomixo

[harukamitsuki]

hello! The idea of yuga being forced to suggest one of his classmates to be recruited into the LOV is so tragically fun that I might honestly incorporate that into my own rewrite. I could imagine the canonically guilt yuga feels would be absolutely increase tenfold if he had to play any role in the kidnapping.

y’know yuga’s guilt (and his canonical suicidal ideation) has so much potential to explored in fics, it’s a shame he isn’t a more popular character… but at the same time he already gets mischaracterize to Hell and back, don’t really wanna imagine how bad it would get if he was popular. *insert the “the viewer fell for the character’s facade that the viewer were supposed to dismantle” image here*

but anyways, it specifically being either izuku and mezou??? brilliant and your reasons makes complete sense. yeah, mezou being the one kidnapped could easily be the catalyst to the mutant discrimination arc. and izuku getting kidnapped also has so much untapped potential, and tomura & izuku desperately needed to have more interactions before their big fight as well.

though, since it wasn’t until post-kamino that yuga stopped distancing himself from the rest of the class, it makes me wonder if he would be confident enough in his observation skills to choose either izuku or mezou. there’s a chance he might go with a more “safe” option like shoto or (dare i say) mina.

also, oh wait, here’s a way to make katsuki less relevant to plot. when izuku and shoto are having their talk between the sports featival rounds. instead of katsuki listening into their convo, have it be yuga. It makes sense, especially when paired up with the idea of yuga being forced to suggest a student to be recruited.

In canon, Yuuga is shown to be far more intelligent than fans make him out to be. He's able to figure out the relation betwen Izuku and All Might without any external guidance or direct hints, and he managed to fool the entirety of 1-A until the reveal. The dumb guy that fanon portrays him as, the guy who's only smart with love, doesn't exist in canon.

I see this as less of an issue with fanon and more of an issue with Horikoshi's writing. He completely forgot about the traitor plotpoint, leacing fans guessing for years until he finally remembered. As such, there really wasn't much build-up to it.

Everyone was guessing Denki, or Tooru, or even the audience themselves. (That last one was a really cool theory but sadly not true). There definitely were some hints here and there, but it never felt like there was a solid foundation until the traitor arc actually hit.

As for him not really interacting with the others until post-Kamino... IMO, if you've experienced something yourself, you find it easier to recognise when somebody has been or is going through something similar.

Yuuga knows what it's like to try to reign in a quirk you were not born with, and he knows how it feels when you believe you've made no progress. He knows how it feels to be discriminated upon, to feel weak, like the whole world is against him.

For those reasons, I think, even without properly interacting with them, he'd be able to recognise how strong Izuku and Mezou are, as well as how they could seem like 'easy' targets for the LOV. He can relate to both of them, (though neither were able to relate to him).

And for your idea with Yuuga eavesdropping rather than Bakugou, while I like the idea, I'd prefer nobody eavesdropping. Bakugou doesn't eavesdrop, and Yuuga would integrate in another way with the IzuCrew.

Shouto's conversation with Izuku was insanely private. He's opening his heart out to Izuku, although I'm sure he didn't realise it, sharing his memories of only pain as a child, something that should only be disclosed by the person afflicted to the one they want to know about it.

While it may suit Yuuga's traitor status, I also can't see him using this information in any way, meaning it would be ultimately useless for him to eavesdrop.

UNLESS!! Unless he decides to report Endeavour to the League, due to his sympathy for Shouto and horror at Endeavour's actions, which could lead into a different arc entirely–

Okay, I'm liking the idea a lot more now.

Thanks for the ask!!

[wehangout]

So, the amazing Calli @callivich came up with this beautiful idea for DVD commentary, fic style, and the amazing questions that go with it. As suggested, I'll be indulging myself while talking about:

Thicker Than Forget. Summary: He blinks at you. “What was your first name?” “Erato.” “Erato,” he repeats. “No need to roll the r.” “Like the muse?” You grin. “Poet, meet muse."

AU. Ian is a poet. Mickey is his recently-corporal muse. They eat an absurd amount of stupidly named ice cream, try to find beauty in things, and fall hopelessly in love.

This was fun! Let me know if you want commentary on any other fics!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

So, I wrote this for the Shameless Big Bang in 2021. I couldn’t tell you how long it took me to write (Word is giving me conflicting info), but it was probably my easiest write to date. Word count sits at 30-ish thousand words.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

It was initially inspired by a novel. I don’t remember which one, but it was either Lament or Ballad by Maggie Stiefvater. The only similarity between that one and mine is that a character falls in love with their muse. The plot itself is very different.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

Mickey. Because it’s almost always Mickey lmao. I did try from Ian’s, but this had to be from the muse’s POV and Mickey had to be the muse.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The smut 👀 if you’ve read it, I hope you understand why lmao

How did you come up with the title?

From the poem, Love is Thicker Than Forget! It fits so well with Ian being a poet and the overall theme of the story.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I went a little meta on fanfic, fandom, and shipping in this, which was so fun. I think only one person seemed to really notice and mention it, though, haha.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I didn’t struggle to write it, but figuring out how to end it was tough. It took a long time for me to figure that out. When I originally came up with the idea it was for an original story, and did not have a happy ending.

Favourite line in the story?

I’m gonna go with lines, plural, because I have a couple

He kisses you and he kisses you and oh. Oh. This is what they were writing about. All the poets, every word of creativity they took from you … it’s this.

He closes his eyes and continues to sigh sonnets into your skin

Also, the last two lines of dialogue, and, I mean, “Fuck the connection” has to be right up there.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

The writing, actually. I’m not a poetic person, none of the poems in the fic are mine, but I’m pretty proud of the poetic nature of the writing.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

So, this is the fic that made me realise I needed to stop taking things so seriously lmao. @captainjowl can attest to the research I tend to do. In this case, every ice cream name was a legit flavour at the time, taken from a Baskin-Robbins website. The mural exists. The flowers and trees in the botanic gardens are flowers and trees found in that exact botanic garden. The hoodie! Taken straight from the Brooklyn Zoo website. The pasta they eat at the North Pond – I used Google Maps to make sure there was an Italian restaurant nearby and looked up ponds in Lincoln Park.

I've since tried to be more chill. Sometimes I fail.

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I’d make it longer, if possible.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

It’s a nice idea, because I’d love to write something pretty again, but I have zero inspiration for it.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

Uh, if you’ve read this and Suncatcher you might notice that I, like Ian and Sandy, have a thing for The Doors.

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

I don’t know if this is my most popular story, but I was definitely surprised by the intensity of the comments I received. It was one time when I knew I’d written something good, but the way it made other people feel definitely took me by surprise.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

I love that this was loved. I still go back and read it every now and then and just sigh.

[bluegalaxygirl]

Celestial Wedding (ZoLu X Reader) P2

Plot: Reader gets taken as revenge for Luffy and Zoro's defiance against the Celestial Dragons, they were just going to kill her to make an example but now theres a wedding????.

Warning: Bad language, Blood, Violence, Drugs, kidnapping, forced marriage and salivary.

Thank you to @herwritingartcowboy for the suggestion. Reader is Female and a gunslinger, Zoro X Luffy X Reader, Poly relationship, established relationship.

P1 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - P15 - P16 - P17 - P18

The cold breeze felt nice but the blinding sunlight hurt the captains eyes, with a groan Luffy opens his eyes only to shield them with his arm blocking out the bright morning sun. "Luffy" Chopper runs over seeing the captain finally awake, Luffy turns his head at the noise and sits up noticing Zoro laying next to him just starting to wake up too. "Are you ok?" The Doctor asks stopping in front of Luffy who places a hand on his head realizing his hat is gone, jumping up he looks around soon spotting it on the floor close by so with a sigh of relief picks it up and putting it on "Yea i'm good. Is everyone ok?" The captain asks looking around the deck seeing most of the crew awake. Robin sat with Nami as they watched over a sleeping Usopp who had quite a few cuts and bruises while Sanji sat close by a bandage around his head while smoking a cigarette. Franky was repairing the ship while Brook brought over some equipment for him, a groan caught the captain's attention looking down to see Zoro sit up and rub his head starting to look around as well. A sniffle made the two look over at Chopper who had his head down trying not to cry while he clenched his fists to his side "They took Y/N" Their breath caught in their throat making Luffy scan the deck again seeing your not on the deck, how did he not notice you were gone? Zoro stands up and scans the deck as well putting his swords back on his side before noticing Robin walking over.

The black haired woman stops next to Chopper with a sad look "Where is she? what happened?" The swordsman asks remembering you were with Robin most of the fight, Luffy steps closer his fists clenched to his sides as anger boils inside him, not only did they attack his crew, damaged the sunny, but they took you too. "I'll explain it to everyone" Robin sighs with a sad look before walking back over to the others who have finished what there doing and sit down to listen and figure out a plan. The only person still not awake was Usopp who along with Brook weren't knocked out by the gas but by physical force. "Robin" Luffy sits next to Zoro crossed legged his fist resting on his knees becoming impatient. "I'm sorry Captain. Those men took Y/n, i'm sure they were bandits but some of the things they said where odd and their weapons had symbols on them, I know i'v seen them before but i can't put my finger on it" Robin places her finger on her chin as Nami pulls out a piece of paper and a pen from her bag handing it to Robin "Can you draw it?" The navigator asks watching as the woman nods and starts to draw the best she can. "Oh no my Y/N-chan" Sanji holds his hands to his heart earning a growl form Zoro who more than hates the cook fawning over you "What the hell happened?" Zoro growls turning his attention to Robin, those guys gave no indication of who they where, he couldn't tell if they were pirates or bounty hunters, so they didn't have much to go on if they were going to find you.

Robin hands the paper back to Nami who looks it over, Brook bending down behind her to have a look at the drawing of four circles each one having a star in the middle. "Me and Y/n were't fully out so i heard quite a few things. Their goal seemed to be only Y/n and it seemed like they need her in one piece and unharmed" It brought a sense of relief to Luffy and Zoro hoping you wouldn't be too badly hurt "But i... I don't want to believe it but some of the stuff they said indicate that they might be working for slave traders" An eerie silence fell over the ship, most of the crew in shock but Luffy clenched his fists tighter and gritted his teeth in anger, he remembers what happened on Sabaody and how they treated slaves. If looks could kill the people who did this too you would drop dead even though their miles away while Zoro glares at the ground, his eyes burned with the desire to kill. The silence was broken by Brooks gasp, Nami jumped at the sudden sound and turned to smack the skeleton for scaring her only to see the terrifying look on his face "Urm guy... That symbol is part of the Slave traders but, I remember seeing it on Punk Hazard too, they were responsible for taking the kids and giving them to Caesar" Franky looks up in surprise before standing a look of shock mixed with anger " Wait a minute man, marines took the kids not Bandits" Luffy stands stopping the upcoming argument "I don't care who they are, all i need to know is where they are" Zoro nods at his captains words standing up and placing a hand on Luffy's shoulder.

The crew knew their captain was beyond mad so nodded and stood along with the swordsman "The Marine Commodore in charge is part of the G-5 if i remember correctly" Nami places a finger on her chin trying to remember as much as she could as Luffy's hand goes to her shoulder "Then thats where we're heading" The captain lets a big smile show causing the navigator grab him by the shirt "What?" she yells in his face as Chopper cowers behind her "We can't attack a marine base that big" The doctor yells earning a laugh from Robin and Zoro "We're going to get Y/N back." Luffy's stern voice stops Nami form shaking him anymore, she stares at him hoping it was a joke, but she knew it wasn't, with a sigh she lets go "Ok, I'll set course" Luffy nods at her before turning to the rest of his crew "Lets get our strength back and find Y/N" The captain yells getting the rest of the crew to nod, with a small chuckle Sanji nods and heads off to the kitchen to start cooking. Once everyone had left the deck Luffy sits down next to the still sleeping Usopp, he hated seeing his friends hurt, but he's confident in their skills and even though the sniper can be a cowered he's still willing to fight for the crew. Zoro watches his captain for a minute before sitting down next to him and taking the mans hand "Luffy" The swordsman manages to get the captain's attention, Luffy prying his eyes away form his injured friend to look at his first mate with a small smile.

Seeing the worry on Zoro's face Luffy knew he had to say something. "Y/n's strong she'll be fine" The captain was mainly reassuring himself with those words and the swordsman knew it but nodded and wraps an arm around Luffy pulling him into a hug "I know" Zoro whispers rubbing the captains back, the Sunny starts moving changing course to head to the G-5 base, it'll be a big battle but their main goal is to find those with the blue stars and hopefully they will have information. Luffy sighs and moves to sit on Zoro's lap letting the green haired man hold him form behind, the captain relaxes against the swordsman's chest "Everything's gonna be ok" Zoro whispers into the captain's ear before kissing his neck and laying his head on Luffy's shoulder. Usopp groans while rubbing his bandaged head and sitting up, the snipers eyes land on Zoro and Luffy "Hay, your awake" Luffy smiles over at his friend who looks around the ship "What happened?" Zoro groans into his captains shoulder not wanting to answer the question but Luffy filled the sniper in on what happened and where their heading "What? a marine base? are you sure about this Luffy" Usopp asks getting closer to his friends face, Luffy nods with a smile but that smile soon fades as Usopp tries to convince the captain not to do it. "Where getting her back." The sniper tenses at Luffy's tone and demeanor change, feeling a heavyweight wash over him as his captains eyes go almost black. Usopp simply nods knowing there's no way of convincing Luffy, he just hopes he doesn't have to fight.

With a swift kick the bandit that tried to get closer flew into the metal bars hitting his back and yelling out in pain. The other bandits growled watching as you stand ready to hurt anyone who gets too close. You were almost at the Red line, and they wanted to make you look presentable but now that you've regained your strength you refuse to do anything they tell your or at least make it harder for them to do anything it. "What is taking so long?" The captains voice calls out walking down the steps before sighing at the mess you've made, several men where either knocked out or groaning in pain while others where standing around trying to find an opening. "Can't you do anything right? Just sedate her" The captain yells making the few who are still left standing jump in fear at their captains angry tone "We already used two needles" One speaks up as the Captain walks into the cell eyeing you, the man was right, the first guy managed to stab you in the leg with a needle but luckily not much went in, the other guy got you in the arm but you didn't react fast enough. Despite feeling tired and weak, the adrenaline running through your veins helped you stand your ground and fight off anyone who got close. "Give it here" The Captain holds out his hand to one of his men who hand him their needle and taking a step back as to not be in is way. "Now be a good girl and do as your told" The captain smiles gripping the needle in his hand.

Glaring and letting a slight growl leave your lips you back up pressing your back against the wall mainly so you can push off and kick him if he gets close enough. The captain steps closer his eyes scanning you over trying to see what your next move is but stops just far enough away to where you can't kick him, the thought of charging at him did cross your mind but you knew you wouldn't be able too with the short thick chain your currently attached too. "I'm guessing you know where we're going then... you should learn early on that defiance isn't acceptable" The captain takes a few steps closer but you wait until he grabs your arm to pushing off the wall you kick will all your might, your foot landing on his stomach but to your surprise he grab your leg and turns to the side pulling you closer. You gasp at the feeling of a sharp needle going into shoulder as his other hand lets go of your leg and grabs your neck slamming you back against the wall knocking the air out of your lunges. While trying to get some air back you try fighting him off you, grabbing is hand thats around your neck and trying to pull it off while using your foot to push against his stomach. Despite your effort the captain keeps his tight grip waiting for the drugs to kick in, it doesn't take long for your arms and lets to feel tired and weak along with your head starting to feel fuzzy. "There we go.. that wasn't so hard now was it?" The captain asks letting you go and watching your legs give out form under you, sitting on the ground you pant a little trying to regain focus as a fogginess clouds your mind.

The captain turns glaring at his men before leaving the cell "Hurry up, we're almost there" His men nod rushing over to you to start their work, one grabs your arms pulling you away from the wall while another un-cuffs your hands, this would be the perfect opportunity to escape but there's no way you can run let alone stand with your legs feeling numb. They wash your skin and hair before dressing you in a white short dress and finally put shoes on your freezing cold feet "What do you think?" One man looks you over before turning to the other who hums while thinking his eyes scanning your figure. "Tie her hair up, they seem to like it more when their neck is exposed" The man finally speaks putting new cuffs on your hands before holding onto the short chain its attached too. The cuffs aren't as thick as the last ones but with how tired your body is, it feels heavy making it hard to hold your hands up for long. The other man nods tying your hair up before helping you stand and making sure your steady on your feet, your legs where still weak but luckily you can stand and regain your balance quite easily. With a growl you elbow the man holding you in the side making him yell out in pain stepping away and holding his ribs, the one holding your chain pulls you towards him knocking you off balance, but he grabs your neck shoving you back into the wall. Their eyes burn with anger but you can't help but let a small smile show, even in your tired state you can still somewhat fight back.

Managing to catch his breath and rubbing his side the bandit glares at you "Gods lady do you want to die? You know who your going to right? a celestial dragon" The man rubbing his side grows threw gritted teeth, you knew where you are going but it didn't matter, you had to get back to your crew, to Luffy and Zoro. "I belong to no one but my Captain and my crew" you glare as the mans hand tightens around your neck pushing you harder into the wood, his eyes burn with anger before letting you go watching as you take a much-needed breath and bringing your hands to your neck to rub it. "Stupid girl" Both man growl the one holding your chain pulling it hard forcing your hands away form your neck before walking out the cell dragging you along with them. Walking up the steps you shield your eyes from the blinding light until they can adjust, the cool sea breeze sends a shiver down your spine and your exposed logs but it feels a lot warmer up top despise the cold wind. "Much better" The captain smiles walking over to you and placing a thick black collar with a blue ball embedded in it around your neck, you try to step back but the man holding your chain shoots you a glare while pulling you closer so the collar can close and lock around you. "Listen closely, girl" The captain grabs your face while holding a black detonator with a big red button on top of it bringing it closer to your face and waving it a little.

You gulp a little knowing it's a bomb collar but you didn't know there were different ones. "This collar works a little different, since your being difficult and are fighting back i have no chose but to put this one on you. I won't get paid if your dead so a chained collar is out of the question." You know the type he's talking about, all the slaves have them, if the chain is broken the collar around their necks explodes, It stops the slaves from running away. Since you have a tenancy to fight them every step of the way even knowing who your going too it makes sense not to have one on you, in case you deliberately brake the chain. You wouldn't do that though, you want to get back to your crew alive and in one piece, but they don't seem to be taking any chances. "It doesn't matter where you go or how far away you are, this will be able to tell your new owner where you are and if he decides that your no longer worth the trouble then they'll just press the button and BOOM" The captain yells in your face before shoving your face away making you stumble a little, the man around you laugh a little but your focused on the detonator in the captains hand, it has a small screen on it with a blue dot. So far you've been focused on only getting out and getting back to your crew but now it doesn't seem possible at least not on your own. "So don't go running off ok?" The captain smiles grabbing your chain walking you off the ship pulling you along behind him, with a sigh you nod knowing you need a new plan but the only thing you can think of is survived until your crew finds you.

Stepping off the ship and onto the red port you look up to see the large red line that splits the earth in two, the red earth so high it goes beyond the clouds. You didn't get a good look at it the first time you passed under it, having to go under and to Fish-man island in order to get over to the other side, being pulled along you soon stop at strange looking yellow elevator with the world government's symbol on it. It makes you sick that this place is home to the world government and the celestial dragons, how can they preach about justice and saving lives while slavery and torture are going on right next to them. Stepping into the elevator the Captain forces you to sit by pushing you down by your shoulder while some of his men follow. "Now be a good girl and stay quiet" The man glares waving the trigger around as a reminder, you only nod in response and look down at the floor as the elevator doors close. Getting higher and higher into the air your anxiety and fear raises up with it, your leg starting to shake a little but you as your dress moves up your leg a small smile appears on your face. The tattoo on your thigh brings you hope knowing your crew will always be there for you even if their miles away, it helps you stay calm and remind you that your strong, you can get threw this you just have to not show any emotion around the dragons. You can't let them see how your feeling and you can't give them any bad looks, If you want to live you have to turn it off, it's going to be hard at times and you'll want to scream at them or cry but you can't, once your crew comes to get you then you can fight them but for now you just have to stay calm.

[6okuto]

YOUR TOUCHSTARVED HCS ARE GOD TIER I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU CAPTURED THEM SO WELL WITH JUST THE DEMO

If you want, could I ask for some with Vere and Kuras?? I feel in love with them in the demo and am in desperate need of more toushstarved content

GENERAL KURAS HCS

gn!reader | ?!!?!! GIGGLES..THANK U THANK U a girl never shares her secrets 😍🤫😘 jk ive shared characterization tips at Some point. KURAS TIME!!! ;3c

has a sense of humour where if you say something silly he Does find it amusing,, he just has a calm + direct demeanor. "can i climb you like a tree" > he blinks because he's caught off guard but smiles anyway. says you could definitely try, but he thinks it might be more effective to just pick you up, no?

the Look the others give him when he says a joke You often say that just...does not match him at all. awesome

he'd get you flowers. not in a bouquet of red roses way but in an i checked the meanings of all of these and personalized it to have your favourite colours and what you mean to me. i'll either explain to you the most devastating story of eternal love and our souls being intertwined or look at you and go :) who's to say what it means? and let you figure it out

next level putting things high up so you have to ask him for help. doesn't try to hide his amusement at all. "odd how it ended up there." ? Yeah i know right

but seriously if you're on the shorter side and you choose to get a chair instead of asking him he's a little upset. and worried. please don't hurt yourself

very serious if you hurt yourself or get sick. if you want to recover fast, let him take care of you. just know he's going to follow some strict rules to make sure you're healing as efficiently as possible

don't let this guy in the kitchen.... his lack of cooking skills make him very appreciative of any home cooked meals, and he knows some pretty good restaurants to make up for it

go ahead and hold onto kuras if you're stuck in a crowd again. like you Can trust him to not lose you, he meant that. but also he won't stop you from reaching for his hand/arm. asks if you're alright before continuing on

get him to relax by laying his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair

never minds bending down to kiss you. you can solve ths problem by getting him to sit down and standing between his legs by the way

forehead kisses are a go to!! and a hand on the small of your back

likes when the both of you talk about how your days went in the evening. i think he likes hearing about drama. he remembers names and stories and if he ever sees the person that pissed you off he's. a Little petty/passive-aggressive. he's really good at making it seem like it's accidental though. LOL

you know when you recommend something to someone and they figure out the big twist or mystery so fast you're like wtf. that's kuras. he pretends he doesn't know, especially the first few times, but eventually you just have to take the opportunity to make it a challenge. how fast can he do it y’know.

? glitter eyeshadow. give it a thought and come back to me.

morning person who gets breakfast for you by the time you're up

giving me words of affirmation and quality time vibes. inviting you out whenever he isn't working and making sure you know you're a priority... casually saying some kind of sincere, poetic praise..

sort of a dry texter but you know what. he's supportive. boyfriend who doesn't know what game you've started and are now incoherently ranting about but does his best to guess and support u. looks up the wiki to read about the characters and plot on his own time

when the game has a secret and kuras Offers a Suggestion. a Guess. and he's right. and ur like OMG :D and he :). pretends he didn't look it up because you told him you were stuck yesterday

[pynkhues]

Back in hs (over 10 years ago omggg) I used to write fanfic. I really enjoyed it but over time I stopped writing. I’d like to get back into writing but all my interests are in dead fandoms and I know it sounds dumb but I really feel like I need the validation of reviews. In part bc another thing holding me back is I’m afraid that I’m just not any good at writing.

Any suggestions? It’s okay if not. I really enjoy you as a writer and thought there’d be no harm in asking🤍

Hey! Thank you for your kind words, and how exciting that you want to get back into writing! Mm, when you ask for suggestions, are you asking for advice on writing, or in figuring out what fandoms to write for when the ones you're most interested in writing for are dormant?

My suggestion with the latter would be to write for them anyway. I think you'd be surprised at how many people do still check for fandoms that look dead from the outside, but even beyond garnering engagement, starting to write fic in the storyworlds you're most interested in is going to be what keeps you writing.

I think following your interests is one of the most important things you can do as a writer, both in fic and in original writing, because the things that you're interested in are going to be the things you engage with the most curiously, the most creatively, the most passionately, and that is something that comes through in writing to readers. I think you can often tell when someone's chosen to write something because they know it hits a sweet spot in fandom and will likely maximise comments or engagement, and while there's nothing wrong with that per se, I think it can be creatively limiting and usually won't be someone's best work.

It feels such a cliche thing to say, but in writing - particularly in writing fic - you should be your own primary audience. Write for yourself, write the stories you wish other people were writing, hell, write the stories other people are writing, write what you want to read, because that's what fanfic is ultimately for. There's no way to guarantee engagement, let alone validation through writing - I truly still, after years of writing fic, couldn't tell you at the point of posting which of my fics are going to get me 300 comments, or 30 comments, or 3 (and I've had plenty of the latter, trust me, haha) - so focusing on the thing you can guarantee needs to be your own enjoyment and creative fulfilment.

Loving the act of writing, even when it's frustrating, even when it makes you want to tear your hair out, has to be a part of the process, because you're never going to be able to know if people are going to love reading it, or even read it at all.

It's also important to remember that writing is a skill like any other. We tend to romanticise artistic skills, but the reality is that, as with anything else, you get better by doing the thing. You can read about writing (and you should), and reading broadly and thinking about stories is definitely vital, but the only way to really get better at writing is by writing. In a lot of ways, smaller, more dormant fandoms are the best places to start too as sure, you might get less comments, but there'll often be people hungry for fic there which in turn offers you space to develop your skills.

I've actually got a writing advice tag which I've used on an ad hoc basis over the last few years, so there's a bit in there if you're interested. I've cherrypicked a few posts that I've written that might be useful, but if you have other questions, please let me know and I'll do my best to answer. :-)

Writing advice posts

Broad advice for new writers (plot in three questions, cause and effect and character agency)

Advice for new writers: three questions to build your plot

Talking about scale, scope and stakes (concrit of The Batman)

Disruption of ritual and inciting incidents

Tips on finding a character's voice

Tips on getting dialogue to flow / writing conversations

Tips on writing dialogue (Rio from GG, but also general)

Tips on writing sex scenes

On where to break a paragraph

[rattonoid]

(A reference to Matt's promise to turn the world into a nightmare from canon, and the core of the artificial deity's vessel from au.)

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥ This was part of the plot of the AU from Sarah's point of view, which will most likely no longer be canon, because I'm not sure about it... I don't write fan fiction. I can't describe emotions in detail and some other things. I'm sorry. ◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢ Warning: SOME VIOLENCE She feels cold all over her body. - "Am I dying? Why can I...feel something like...?" Sarah opens her eyes. Her body is submerged in a stone capsule, and cold water envelops her. It seems too real to be a dream or… a game. She can't move her arms. Sarah stares at the ceiling for a moment… Then she finally looks at her body. A muscular, feminine figure, covered in scars. Her clothes look shabby. Did her model look like this before? The model feels like she was always born a member of this magical race. On her hands are heavy handcuffs on chains, and on her neck is a stone collar with a number carved into it, covered in runes on the inside. She can't see the number, but her neck feels the roughness of the collar on the inside. Luckily, her legs are not restrained by anything. She managed to sit up. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember what could have happened to her after the events at the end of her past life. "Past life"… Was she really given a second chance? But why? Would her soul never find peace again? The room was very shabby. There were shards of glass scattered on the floor, and puddles. Some of the lights weren't working, or were flickering and sparkling. The room was full of strange equipment… It seemed like the glass was part of her capsule, since the other capsules in the same row with hers seemed more intact. - "What...w-what is this place...?" She climbs out of the capsule and down to the floor, careful not to step on the glass, like a minefield. Sarah looks at the other capsules, but they are empty. Except for the one at the end of the row. Sarah gets closer, but before she can react, the sound of footsteps splashing through a puddle is heard behind her. She didn't hear anyone enter. The Hylian twitches her pointed ear at the sound and reaches for her sword and shield out of habit, but her inventory is empty. Nervousness makes her inattentive. She steps on the glass while trying to turn around to face the unknown guest. The pain only makes her more nervous. Sarah turns sharply to the door, getting into a fighting stance, despite the fact that her hands are shoved in and she has no weapons or armor. The dark-robed Hylian shakes the dust off his clothes. He looks at the notes in his notebook, then back at her. His face suggests that he is flustered and disorganized, as if he had just had to interrupt something important to come here. But he quickly pulls himself together and smiles at her in a friendly manner. - "Ah- Luna bless, you're awake!" - He wanted to clap and almost dropped the notebook into the water, but caught it in time. - "Happy birthday, 423! Today marks exactly one year since you were brought here. You caught the connection- I mean…Oh! Sooo many scars! There's some glass left in your capsule, huh? I'm sorry, we didn't have time to clean it, something happened… Anyway. Let me check the integrity of your body-" Sarah knew who he was, and that made her even more wary. She frowned, silently, carefully stepping back. Her blood mixed with the water on the floor, but she didn't care. He thought it was funny, she looked like a wild dog in a kennel about to have her blood tested. - "Ohhh no, look what you've done… you've hurt your paw…!" He wanted to seem caring, but there was a glint of sadism in his eyes. He put the notebook down on the nearest surface and tried to go around the glass, holding the hem of his robe.

He tried to get closer, but after a moment… A loud clang. Her hands were on his neck. He gasps in surprise, that's the last thing she hears…

["Bastard! It was his fault!" - she had no doubt about it. She was ready to break the chain, she was ready to break his neck in an emotional outburst. Sarah felt the power that this model gave, this strange, game-like convention of the Alpha world… This is still the Alpha world, isn't it? She didn't care about anything else. What the hell had he done this time?! Whoever he was pretending to be, she knew. He couldn't be trusted. A liar. A wolf in sheep's clothing. "You won't fool me this time."] His nails scratch her arms, his breathing and his pulse quicken… >Perform an action. >Request rejected: Not enough fuel to perform this action. >Perform an action. >Request rejected: Not enough fuel to perform this action. >Perform an action. >Request rejected: Not enough fuel to perform this action. >Perform an action. >Request rejected: Not enough fuel to perform this action. >Perform an action... - "You...Y-You..." [Her hands are shaking, the remains of the handcuff chain jingling. At one point, it seems like her hands are passing through his hitbox, but it's all a hallucination, blurring her vision, as if her eyes are artificial.] - "You bastard, I-I won't let you...!" When suddenly her trembling speech is interrupted by a stabbing pain piercing her arm. And no matter how much she hates him, this event frightened her. Sarah was forced to let go of his neck. She looks at her hand, but the glitches do not go away, only intensifying from her tears. All she sees is a red, growing spot on her hand. As if it were a pixelated image of poor quality, or censored. The Hylian catches his breath, shaking and trying to keep his balance. He wipes the blood from the pale blue dagger on the fabric of his robe. - "Hmmm..." The carefree look on his face disappeared, leaving only the coldness of his blue eyes under the ominously flickering lamps. - "This is… a very serious decision, you understand? To attack without a weapon, when our forces are clearly not equal. But, to your credit, I did not expect you to break the chain. My Goddess decided that you needed to be punished for your disobedience. I did. And I will do it again, if necessary. So please, allow me to show you mercy and heal your wounds. If you resist, you will receive more scars, and you do not want that, huh, Sarah Lowman?" - "..." He softened his tone and began to help her stand. Sarah could not take her eyes off the wound he gave her. But it hurt so much. Her feet and knees were bleeding. The puddles of splashed water had turned into small bloody lakes under their feet, with islands of broken glass. He leads her to a place near the exit of the room, where she can walk without risking losing her legs. He sits her down on a chair near the table with the documents.

- "If you want to address me, please use my nickname! It will be shorter and more convenient than some long names, right?" - He smiled at her gently, as if they had already made up and become friends, although Sarah was still recovering from the pain and did not answer him a word. - "If-" - "Matt, what's is going on? What did you do?" - Sarah suddenly spoke to him, desperately searching for answers. Matt froze, looking at her. - "Excuse me, what did you just...? We… We haven't even had contact before today?? Why are you...H...HOW are you..." - He lets out a short, nervous laugh, not taking his eyes off her. Sarah pauses, confused by his reaction, and waits for him to explain, wiping away her tears. He steps away from her, squinting in disbelief, since he was ready to swear he hadn't said his name in front of the subjects. Sarah swallows, and while her vision is recovering, she decides to play along with Matt, so as not to get into more trouble. For some reason, he doesn't seem to remember their interactions from their past life. Everything just got more complicated. - "I…I beg your pardon, sir!" - She blurts out, playing the role of a confused, lost lamb, which is inconsistent with her recent attack. - "It's an accident, I beg you, believe me! You look so much like… a person I knew." Matt slowly approaches her again, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to discern the lie in her confused look. What if this strange behavior is a consequence of suspended animation… - "Stand up." Sarah nods casually and quickly rises to her aching feet, continuing to pretend to be a trusting poor thing. - "Do I look like someone you know? How sweet. I hope it's a positive memory. You'll stay here for a long time." He liked her submissive behavior. The feeling of superior status over an insignificant subject. He even thought that she wasn't really that strong-willed, despite the appearance of an experienced warrior. Although, perhaps he was like that too, just playing his part. But only The Machine knows this truth. ◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥ End of the first part!!!! ◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Three

Part One, Part Two

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After an unexpected visit to Tannyhill, you stalker comes up with a plan to make you his. But, will you be able to execute it just as he planned?

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 4.5k

Author Note: Part Three has arrived! I still am unsure if I like where the story is going, but we'll see. Also I'm getting so IMPATIENT and horny while writing this and it's literally killing me. Please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on this story. I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

“Okay, you remember the plan, yeah? You know what you’re supposed to do?” Rafe speaks as you look out of the passenger window of his truck. 

You turn back to face him before speaking. “Y-yeah I know.” You nod, turning back to look out of the window and at your house across the street from the parked truck. “I have to tell them…” You pause, getting choked up. “I have to tell them that I’m moving out.” You turn back to look at him, your eyes watery. “I can’t…they’re gonna know–”

Rafe clenches his fists around the steering wheel and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “No, baby they’re not gonna know. Because you’re not gonna let them know, alright? And you sure as shit aren’t gonna try anything are you?”

You frantically shake your head, “No…no I’m not gonna try anything…’promise.” You pause. “It…it’s just…what if they don’t believe me? I can’t–I can’t tell them I’m moving out with someone I’ve never even mentioned to them.”

“Hey…hey, you’re an adult yeah? They can’t do shit baby. They don’t have a choice, you’re mine.” His words cause an icy shiver to roll down your spine. Though even you know that your parents aren’t going to protest you living with the richest, most successful man in the Outer Banks, besides from his father…which everyone has heard about. The saint turned murderer who died last year. Like father, like son, you think to yourself. The incident was all over the news, you’re surprised you didn’t recognize the Cameron son sooner, his face had to be everywhere when all that went down. 

But why would your parents care, all you do is cost them more money. They’ve been trying to get you out of the house for months. 

“Y-yeah…” You respond, looking back out the dark, tinted window towards your house. “I-I’m ready.” You put your hand on the door handle, waiting for him to unlock it so you can exit his truck.  

“You have an hour. Don’t make me come inside.” Rafe’s hand moves over the driver door and he presses a button, causing your door to unlock with a click. You nod and exit the vehicle, cautiously walking across the street and towards your front door. Upon entering your home, you take a deep breath to try and keep your emotions in check. No matter how much you wish your parents would notice something is very wrong, you know that would only bite you in the ass. The best thing you can do is make sure this all goes according to plan. 

“Mom?” You call out, slowly walking down the entry hallway. “Mom? Dad?” You try again, speaking more confidently this time.

“Yeah, in here!” You hear your mom call out from the living room. As you enter the room, you see your parents watching TV. Your mother with a drink in her hand, laid back on the couch with her legs crossed and your father reclined in the chair, a beer in his hand. You glance down at the floor beside the recliner and spot several empty beer cans. Great, just great.

“Hey…” You say sheepishly. “How’s the bar?”, you ask, more casually. 

Your mom glances over at your father, assuming that since he hasn’t even turned his head away from the TV, she’s going to have to answer you. As she turns her head back to look at you, she sips on her drink. She licks her lips and clears her throat before drawing her attention to you. “It was fine”, she mutters your name before taking another sip of her drink. “Same as always. What’ve you been up to?” She asks, not even trying to pretend like she actually cares about what you have to say next. 

As you open your mouth to speak, your father cuts you off; still not looking away from the TV. “Get a damn job yet? Or were you just out fucking off again, hm? You’re too goddamn old to be living under my roof for free. You don’t do shit. You’re gonna start paying your fucking dues.” He snaps, finishing off his beer before tossing it to the ground aside, clattering into the others. “I need a beer.” He mutters. Without hesitation you walk over to the kitchen. You open the fridge door, staring into it as you get lost in your thoughts for a moment, eyes immediately watering. You shouldn’t even be upset, it’s not like you expected anything more. But you did have the slightest hope that maybe they didn’t drink so much today and they’d actually be able to tell that something is terribly wrong. 

Quickly you snap yourself out of your thoughts, grabbing a beer from the fridge and heading back into the living room, handing it to your dad. You take a few steps back, taking a breath to calm yourself. “I told you I–”, you start before your father interrupts you. 

“You’re gonna ‘go back to school to get a good job’. Bull. Shit. y/n. Bullshit.”

You fight back the tears in your eyes. Even though you’re used to the drunken crap your father is constantly spewing, his words still always manage to get to you; especially now when you actually need your parents. After a moment, you move to face both parents, looking more at your mother; she’s easier to speak to. 

“A-actually…” You start, looking down at your feet and fiddling with your fingers. “I wanted to tell you t-that I-I’m moving out…” You wait a few seconds to steady your breathing and let your words sink in before looking back up. Your father has turned in his chair to face you and your mother looked up at you from her spot on the couch. 

“About damn time.” Your father speaks.

Your mother replies next, “Where?” 

You look back at your feet, watching how they kick at the ground as you speak, “In…into Tannyhill. The Cameron's place.” You mumble, not wanting to look up, fearing that they’ll see right through you. Even though you know you’re just paranoid, there’s no way they’ll pay enough attention to you to notice something is wrong.

“Didn’t they move after what happened to Ward?” Your mother asks.

Your dad adds, “After Ward killed a shit ton of folks and then himself.” 

You ignore your fathers words, looking up at your mother, only taking brief glances over at your father while you speak. “Uhh no, no…not all of them.” Your hand lightly scratches at the back of your head. “Rafe, the son,” you clarify, trying to seem as though you are telling a casual story; like you’re telling the truth. “Yeah, uh…he actually took over Cameron Development and he still lives in the house.”

“What the hell you doin’ with a Cameron?” Your mother questions sternly. Her attention is taken away from you as your father barks her name.

“Fucks’ it matter?” He speaks to her before looking over at you again. “He’s letting you move in? He’ll pay for your lazy ass, yeah?”

You look at your dad and give him a nod, watching as he takes another swig of his beer can as you mutter, “Y-yes.”

 He swallows hard, pursing his lips. “Then go on, get outta here.” He exclaims before looking back to the TV as though nothing happened. 

You answer your moms question from earlier, “Rafe…h-he’s a friend of mine. He said he’s got so much extra space and he can help me find a good job out on figure eight; y’know, hook me up with some people, I guess he put a word in for me or somethin’.” You lie, pleased with yourself as you manage to get out the last word without breaking character. 

“S’long as you’re not costin’ us no more money.” She replies, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen to refill her glass of wine. 

You stand there for a moment, before your dad speaks again, “And when you come crawling back, you ain’t stayin’ for free.” 

You let out a small, broken sigh, “yeah”. You exit the living room, heading to your bedroom. As you pass by the kitchen you momentarily stop and speak to your mother who’s currently trying to open up a new bottle of wine. “I’m gonna pack a bag…I’m leaving tonight.”

You know the time is ticking, that you probably don’t have much of your hour left. You grab your biggest duffel bag from underneath your bed and start frantically filling it. It’s hard to pack though because, what are you supposed to bring to move in with your psycho stalker? You pack some hoodies and sweats, some of your baggiest jeans, oversized t-shirts, large pj pants, really just making sure all the clothes you packed were the least revealing things you could find. After all, you weren’t sure what was in store for you. And you sure as hell weren’t gonna make it that easy for him to get what he wants. You packed some personal hygiene products and toiletries, an extra pair of shoes, and whatever else you think you may need. Before walking out of your bedroom, you glance around and scan for anything you might’ve missed. You end up grabbing your favorite blanket and shoving it into your bag; something that might help give you comfort at your new home, something to keep the monsters out at night. And finally, you tuck your ‘sleeping’ pills into your bag. They’re the only thing that’s been able to help you sleep these past few weeks. And slowly your dosage continues to increase.

Stepping out of your bedroom, you shut your door behind you. You stand in the hallway, taking a deep breath which causes a tear to fall down your cheek. You wipe the tear and head back into your living room. You set down your bag and walk over to the couch, sitting beside your mom. 

Turning to face her, you whisper, “I’m leaving now, mom.”

“Okay sweetie.” She nods, this really isn’t a big deal for her. She thinks you’re just moving out like a typical young adult. But you know the truth. You know, or rather you don’t know what the future has in store for you or when the next time you’ll be able to see your family again is; if he lets you see them again. 

You lean in and give your mom a hug, she immediately hugs back seeing as you two never hug. You pray that this doesn’t raise any suspicion in her. When you stand up from the couch, you walk over to stand by your fathers chair. “Bye Dad, I’m leaving now.” You say, trying to keep your normal emotionless, cold tone with him. 

“Yeah, okay, bye.” He waves you off, wanting you to move out of his view of the television. 

You go and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder again. Before exiting the room and leaving, you turn back to your parents, “Bye, see you later.” You lie. Well, technically it’s not a lie because you aren’t even sure of the answer yourself.

As you walk out of the front door, you hear each of them mutter some form of a goodbye just before the door shuts behind you. You look up and glance across the street, seeing Rafe’s truck still sitting there parked; still running. As you slowly walk towards it, he rolls his darkly tinted window down just enough that you can see his eyes as they watch you intently. You’re hit with shivers that roll from the top of your spine to the tip of your toes as you walk around to the passenger side of his truck and open the back door, tossing your bag on the seats before climbing into the front passenger seat. 

You can feel his searing vision on you as you buckle your seatbelt and proceed to stare silently out in front of yourself. He mutters your name, causing you to hesitantly turn to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He asks.

“Well clearly I’m here so…” You say, unsure of where your sarcastic attitude came from. You hope this isn’t enough to set him off. Judging by his ragged breath, the chances aren’t great. 

Rafe just shakes his head, a small smirk forming on his face as he lets out a huff, “yeah…you’re here baby.” It’s hard to tell whether or not he’s pissed off or not. You curse his quickly transforming moods. He doesn’t say anything else before putting the truck into drive and spinning out of your neighborhood. The drive from the cut back to figure eight is dreadful and silent. 

When you do finally reach Tannyhill and Rafe parks in the driveway, he’s the first to exit the vehicle as he grabs your duffle bag from the backseat, rounding the truck to open your door. You instinctively mumble a small ‘thank you’ to him, immediately feeling embarrassed before realizing that maybe being extra kind will make him go easier on you. All he does is chuckle in response as he walks behind you to his front door. When Rafe gets the door unlocked, he lets you walk inside first as he follows closely behind. He locks the door and leads you upstairs and down the hall. Reaching inside his pocket, Rafe pulls out another key which he uses to unlock a random hallway door. Once he gets it open, he enters the room and sets your bag down on the bed.

 He turns back to look at you as you stand in the doorway. “This uh…” he scratches at the back of his buzzed head, appearing to be almost…nervous? “This is your room for the time being.” Rafe grins as he looks up at you. “Thought you’d be more comfortable in your own room for now.”

‘For now’, what the hell is that supposed to mean? You wonder, taking a step further inside the bedroom. You look around, but you don’t speak; you don’t know what you’d even say. You sit on the foot of the neatly made bed. He only stands in front of you, staring down, just watching you silently. Rafe is always doing that, watching. 

“Rafe…?” You murmur, turning your head slightly in his direction but keeping your eyes rooted on the floor. 

“Hm? What is it, baby?” Rafe’s brows further, his forehead slightly creasing. 

“I…w-what happens now?” You ask as you use your right hand to scratch at your left forearm, trying to keep yourself mentally present. 

Rafe steps closer to the bed, if you were to look up, you’d practically be face-to-face with his clothed cock. So you decide to spare the awkwardness of that and continue to stare at the ground below you.  

“Well,” he speaks. Before continuing, Rafe brings his hand up and uses his thumb and pointer finger to grip into your chin. He slightly tugs upward, forcing you to look up into his eyes. “You’re gonna stay here with me. I know baby, I know it’s hard. But, you’ll have some time to adjust, alright?” You nod and he lets go of your chin, but immediately moves to take the empty space on the bed. He sits next to you and he places his hand on your knee. “Hey,” he speaks softly and you turn to look at him. “This is our future and I know it’s scary, but it’s gonna be okay. Yeah?”

Future, you think. ‘This is our future’, you try to allow his words to break through to you, but your mind won’t let this sink in. This, whatever this is, was not supposed to be your future. Though you’re not totally sure what was meant to be your future, you just know it isn’t him. You’re supposed to meet someone who you know now, is not a psycho stalker and actually have a choice in what happens to you.

God, maybe your parents were right. Which you never thought would happen. But, if you had listened to them and had done more with your life, who knows, maybe you wouldn’t have ended up in this situation. But instead you pushed all responsibilities away, saving them for the ‘future’. You’ve spent your entire life waiting for something in your brain to switch and somehow make you capable of carrying responsibilities and do something with your life. And now, this is your punishment, it has to be. If you ever get out of this nightmare of a situation, you aren’t gonna sit around on your ass and wait for a handout anymore, you’re gonna change. But, that is only if you manage to escape from this hell. 

“Okay, baby?” The man next to you speaks, his thumb lightly running over the fabric of your jeans. His voice pulls you out from your endless void of thoughts, bringing you right back into the present. 

You respond, your voice shaky, “What do you want from me?” A salty, warm tear rolls out from the corner of your eye and down your cheek. “Baby, baby shhh, it’s okay. It’s alright. All I want is for us to be together, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” He says in a tone that seems to indicate that he might just actually be sincere. The more you try to figure this man out, the more confused you get. But, if he really does care about you, that’s something you might just be able to work with.

“B-but…you are hurting me.” You say hesitantly, worried to see how this will play out. Immediately, his already light touch on your knee lightens even more to the point he’s barely making contact. 

“What? What do you mean? You’re okay.” 

“No…I just wanna go home, please.” The last word comes out in more of a whisper than anything else. Rafe’s eyes squeeze shut and he shakes his head, standing up. 

He begins to pace the room, you just follow him with his eyes. As Rafe paces, his fists repeatedly clench and unclench at his sides. Suddenly, he comes to a halt, turning to face you again. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

“Please…” You whimper in a pleading tone. Your voice full of emotion. He cocks his head to the side, amused as he watches you. Rafe takes a few steps closer, so he’s standing to the side of the bed once more. 

“Baby, there’s nothing to be so scared of. We’re gonna be so good. Just…just trust me.” He says, getting impatient with having to repeat this to you constantly.

“But…I don’t want this, please just take me back home.” Rafe’s expression goes dark, his shoulders relax like he’s just let something go.

“Go home? To do what? Huh?! You don’t do shit. I’m saving you baby. I’m saving you from your sad, pathetic life. I’m giving you everything you’ll ever need, baby. So no, you cannot go ‘home’. This is your home.” The man’s voice is stronger, meaner than before. At this point you don’t have enough courage left in you to fight this. You just sniffle and nod, wiping your tears. “This is our home.” 

As you sit there silently watching him but being careful not to make eye contact, he starts to unzip your duffel bag. You huff, “what, you gonna take the only things I have left now too?” 

He sighs, looking at you. “No.” Rafe begins to sort through your things, taking it all out of the bag one by one. “Just makin’ sure you didn’t get any stupid ideas.” He mumbles, not looking up from what he’s doing.

After he empties the contents of your bag out onto ‘your’ bed, he starts to go through it more carefully. You watch as he picks up a pair of your underwear, holding it up and looking at you. “What’s all this shit? You on your period or some shit? Thought that was earlier this month.” He huffs, tossing the item back down on the bed. He’s clearly frustrated by the fact that you purposely packed your ugliest and least revealing panties; which happen to be the ones you typically wear on your period. Which makes you think back to what he said, you realize he’s had to see you in your underwear often to know what kind you wear during a specific time of the month. You shiver.

Once he deems everything as safe, he puts it all back into the bag. Just as he picks up one of your hoodies, the bottle of your sleeping pills fall onto the bed. Rafe’s brows furrow and he picks up the bottle, reading the label. Once he identifies the content and the doseage, he makes a  tsk sound. He slips the bottle into his pocket and looks back up at you. “Can’t leave you with those now can I?” Rafe finishes re-packing your bag.

“I-I need those…to sleep.” Your words cause him to chuckle, confusing you. You don’t understand what he could possibly find funny in this situation, but then again you aren’t a sociopathic stalker. 

“Right.” He mumbles. “Nobody takes that much just to sleep.”

“Please, they…they help.” You aren’t lying. Your doctor put you onto some medication which you cannot pronounce, that almost immediately puts out your anxiety and helps you relax. The only thing is, you keep upping the dose, when really they worked just fine the first time. But, you like how they make you feel. And yeah, sometimes you might take them without reason, but only sometimes.

“I’m gonna hold onto them for a while baby. You’ll be fine.” He pauses before speaking again, this time with a slight smirk evident on his face, “I’m here if you need help sleeping.” He says cockily. “Yeah?” You don’t respond. You just stare at the floor. 

After a few moments of silence, his stares were getting uncomfortable. “Can I just be alone, please? I just…I wanna try and get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” You sigh. 

“You haven’t eaten today.” He states.

“Yeah…I-I’m not hungry.” Being kidnapped and forced to completely unroot your life to live with an unknown man definitely takes some effect on you, such as erasing your appetite. 

Rafe sighs and steps closer, sitting down next to you once more. “How do I know you aren’t gonna try anything?”  

“I haven’t tried anything yet have I? I haven’t told anyone about you, a-and I’ve done everything you’ve asked.” You plead.

Rafe makes another tsk sound as he shakes his head. “What were you doing at the sheriff's office today, hm? What was that?”

“I…I-” You aren’t sure what to say. If you lie, he’ll know. But you’re too afraid to tell him what you had planned on doing down at the station. 

“Don’t you ever try that again. Don’t even fucking think about trying it.” He pauses for a moment. Chuckling before he speaks again, “god, so stupid. You really thought they’d believe you? Over…over me?” He laughs.

“I…I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit,” he grabs your thigh firmly, making you gasp. “You know I hate when you lie to me…so why do you keep doing it?” He asks, searching in your eyes for the answer. “You’re only sorry you got caught.” He squeezes tighter.

You groan at his grip on your leg and the ache it’s causing. “R-Rafe…that hurts. Please…y-you’re hurting me.” Your words are followed by a quick gasp and a tear running down your face. 

Once Rafe’s eyes land on your tear, he lets go of your leg. “Shit, baby. I’m—I didn’t mean to.” Rafe moves his hand to rest comfortingly on your shoulder. Well, his idea of what a comforting hand is isn’t exactly comforting. But he doesn’t have much of an example to go off of. 

Before you can speak, he stands up and exits the room. You hear the door lock, and your eyes squeeze shut. You let your head fall into your hands and you just start to let it all out. For hours you sit there, crying until there’s no tears left. You just keep waiting and waiting for him to come back; you figure he wouldn’t leave you completely alone without supervision on your first night here. Except he never does. 

Eventually, you really do start to feel a bit tired. You lay down on the bed, on top of the covers. You use your pillow and your blanket from home. The smell of home still lingering on the items. Pulling the blanket over your head to feel safe, you eventually begin to fall asleep. 

When you wake, you’re still tucked away into your safe place. After recollecting your thoughts that had become jumbled from sleep, you pull the blanket off of your head. You squint from the bright light that shines through the window. Once your eyes have adjusted, you take a moment to scan over your surroundings. The bedroom looks like that of a hotel room. Well, not like any hotel you’ve ever been to. The mansion is slightly more vintage and elegant than those of the typical kooks; it’s not as simple and modern. If you weren’t being held captive in it, you may even admire it. 

As much as you’d love to stay curled up under your blanket. Nature calls and you can’t ignore it. You sit up from the bed and quietly step over to the door. Shit. The doors locked, you forgot.

“Hey!” You call out. “Rafe? Let me out!” Faintly, you can hear commotion from the floor below you. While you wait, you look around the room a bit more. There’s another door, you open it expecting it to be a closet, but it’s a bathroom. Wow, you definitely feel dumb now.

After taking care of things, you exit the bathroom. You jump back when you finally look up from your feet to see Rafe standing in the room. 

“Goodmorning, baby.” He smiles. “How’d you sleep?”

You start walking towards the bed, sitting back down and covering your body with your blanket. All you do in response is shake your head.

“Hungry yet?” He asks, sitting at the foot of the bed and resting his hand on your calf, rubbing over it through your blanket. 

You shake your head again.

Rafe sighs, “y’know I’d really appreciate some words?” He says softly.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.” He tucks his lips in and nods a bit. “Suit yourself then. I’ll be back later, I guess. …Unless you don’t want me to go?” He asks hopefully.

“Am I supposed to just stay locked up in here all day?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Well,” Rafe pauses to lick his lips before continuing. “You’re the one who I can’t trust.” He takes his hand off of your leg and stands up. “Just…just give it time baby, you’ll come around. I know you will.” It’s obvious that he’s not even sure about whether or not he’s trying to convince you or himself with his words. 

Without another word, Rafe exits the room, locking the door. Again, you cover yourself with the blanket and let it engulf you. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re in your own bed at home. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas, I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[aliteral-ghost]

This is something I wrote for a trial run of a 100 minute event where the entire fic is outlined, written, and posted in 100 minutes. I had so much fun writing this and figuring out how to write it in 100 minutes! The prompt I chose to write was a roommates au :)

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To have a home

Cleo has just brought her first box into the apartment when she hears a little cough from the doorway.

“Long time no see,” a far-too-familiar voice says, smile tinging his voice. Cleo nearly punctures a hole in the box she's carrying.

“No. There's no way this happened. This can't be right.”

“Oh, it is, Cleo,” Etho says, grinning. “I requested you.” Cleo stares at him, mouth wide open. The last time they spoke it was a massive, blowout fight about… well, they can't remember. Probably something stupid Etho did. And now they're roommates?

“Okay,” Cleo says slowly, setting the box down so she doesn't throw it at him. “Why?”

He puts on an impressive set of puppy dog eyes and walks over, placing a hand on their shoulder. Cleo doesn't shrug it off, but she wants to.

“I missed you,” Etho says. “Remember how it was freshman year with you and me and Bdubs? We had fun.”

They remember consoling Bdubs when he and Etho broke up for the ten millionth time. They remember Etho being wishy-washy with his loyalty.

“How is Bdubs, by the way?” Cleo asks. “I haven't spoken to him in a while.”

“Oh he's fine! Doing great! We broke up again a few months ago and now he's moved in with some other guys.” That isn't surprising. Cleo's honestly more surprised that they both kept coming back for more.

“Okay, then,” Cleo says, putting her box down so she doesn't throw it at him. “Where's our third roommate, then? Do you know them?”

Just then, a little sandy brown head pops into the doorway. He weaves around the boxes and waves at Cleo when she's in eyeshot. Grian. She knows Grian, too, although less well than Etho. He's never really done nothing to hurt her, just been annoying.

“Hey guys!” Grian says. “Don't mind me, I'll just be in and out!” Sure enough, he's gone within the blink of an eye, with the fleeting shout of “Just had to check my dishwasher!”

“Okay,” Cleo says. “This is fine.” This is fine. It's only for the year, and if she really hates it she can move out earlier. Everything is fine.

“I'm glad you're so positive about this too,” Etho says smugly. Cleo wants to wipe the smug smile off his face, but she instead heads for the door.

“Just-don't get in my way when I'm moving in.”

A few months later Cleo is talking to a few of her art school friends when the topic of her roommates comes up.

“I want to say it's been awful,” Cleo says. “But they're actually fine roommates. Like Grian I hardly see, but Etho does the dishes? He has his own dishwashing apron!”

“You've got a better situation than I do,” False says. “I still have to live with my twin sister.”

“And me!” Joe cuts in.

“And you, Joe,” False concedes. “You're not the bad part.”

“We have game nights,” Cleo wails. “I can't hate this guy when he's been teaching me Wardens and Withers.”

“Ooh, I love that game!” Joe says. “It's a little hard to get into, but once you understand all the cards it can be really fun!”

“Oh, God, now you've got him talking about card games again,” False groans, rolling her eyes.

“It's just– I don't know, it feels like he actually wants to try in our friendship again, instead of constantly having drama.” They stare into their swirling latte, foam art depicting a little smiley face.

“So let him,” Joe suggests. “Have fun. By the way, False, you remember we have a WnW session tonight, right?”

False sighs. “Yeah, I'll be there.”

Cleo leaves them to their bickering and heads home, thoughts swirling around her head. Maybe she should give Etho another chance. He does seem like he's really trying this time.

When they get home, both Etho and Grian are in the kitchen, seemingly plotting out some sort of crime or something. Grian has his little leopard gecko out (it's named Etho’s dishwasher, for some reason) and is letting it run all over the plans.

“Welcome back, Cleo,” Etho says when she walks through the door. “We're planning a prank on Scar. Want to join?”

Cleo looks at the three of them, and the plans on the table, and smiles. “I'd love to, actually.”

[somestorythoughts]

Eldritch Echo Pt. 4

Folks. Folks I have a very basic plot now. Holy fucking shit. I mean like it's a basic plot but my little scene has expanded into a couple of interconnected scenes so. Of all the things to make me write another fanfic it's a random eldritch Clone Wars thought. Okay then.

Perhaps Echo is more Uncanny Valley than fully Eldritch, but I'm certainly not going to change the name now. Especially not when it's aliterative.

Enjoy Part 4!

It’s not as if Tech thinks Crosshair is lying when he said that he saw Echo with over twenty golden violet eyes (and what does that even mean, golden violet?), or that Hunter is wrong when he says Echo doesn’t just smell like a trooper. He did consider that they were dreaming, but they had too many examples from different days for that to be the case. And Wrecker’s observations, backed up by the medical files, certainly supported their statements, as did Echo’s smirk and general amusement. It’s just that he cannot see how he didn’t notice.

It’s true that Crosshair is probably the most observant of them, but it isn’t as if Tech doesn’t pay attention to people. That’s dangerous on Kamino. He is willing to admit he pays more attention to machines and that sometimes he misses things, but that doesn’t mean he’s unobservant.

And yet while Wrecker immediately had an answer when Crosshair brought this up and from the sound of it Hunter had responded quickly as well, Tech cannot recall seeing or hearing anything to suggest that Echo was genetically anything other than another trooper. And aside from that brief thought of bright teeth that could simply have been the sunlight, Tech doesn’t notice anything until two nights later, when Echo is injured.

Echo had been deliberately elusive in response to all of Crosshair’s demands, answering questions as unhelpfully as possible with an innocent smile that Tech would have known was false even without his goggles. He distinctly remembers Crosshair yelping and looking up to see Echo grinning like a wolf while Crosshair swore at him. When he’d asked Crosshair had snarled “That little bastard just made his tongue purple.” Tech hadn’t known how to react to that and had returned to reading through Echo’s medical records. He and Crosshair shared a medic’s duties for their batch and so he had everyone’s records, but even after reading them three times he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

And then they have a mission with commando droids, and Echo wound up under Tech and Crosshair’s careful hands due to a gash in his side that his armor hadn’t quite blocked.

“I want a word with whoever gave those bastards swords.” Echo hissed as Crosshair began to stich him up. Their sniper snorted.

“Understandable.” Tech replied. “I have never asked what your tattoo is.”

The tattoo in question is on Echo’s right shoulder, a few inches above his prosthetic. It’s simple, a straight line with three dots below it and two dots above, but Echo’s expression turned sad.

“It’s my squad. Domino. The bottom three are Hevy, Droidbait, and Cutup. The top two are Fives and I.”

“Fives.” Tech mused. “I’ve heard you mention him after your nightmares.”

Echo grimaces. “Yeah. Yeah Rex says he died a bit before you found me. The others, they died on Rishi. Fives has a matching one on – ouch!”

“Don’t twitch so much.” Crosshair ordered as Tech handed him the bacta. Echo rolled his eyes, closing them. Crosshair glanced up, then caught Tech’s eyes to point at the tattoo.

The dots have changed position.

“Your tattoo has moved.”

Echo smiles without opening his eyes. “They do that.”

“That is not normal for a tattoo Echo.” Tech states. The smile transforms to a grin, jagged and wide, and Echo opens his eyes.

Oh. That’s what golden violet is.

“Normal’s relative Tech. Surely you’ve figured that out.” He pulls himself to his feet, taps his chest. “Thanks Crosshair.”

Blue lines move under his skin, over his heart. They make a little five that pulses like a heartbeat. Tech looks into Echo’s eyes.

“You were asking Wrecker and Hunter why you didn’t see anything off about me. You want to know why?” Tech nods. Somehow his grin goes wider and oh human mouths definitely aren’t supposed to make that shape. “You’ve been focusing on my prosthetics. And I’m still adjusting to them.”

And then there’s nothing off about him as he practically chirps “I’m going to sleep. Bye!” and leaves. Tech stares.

“You get it now?” Crosshair asks dryly. Tech can only nod.