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murderofravens · 4 months ago

Text

BABY, I'M RIGHT HERE

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader

part: 2/3 [finished]

warnings: large age gap (20 vs late 40s) angst. slow burn. slight infantilization. no use of y/n. codependency. obsession from both sides. unhealthy dynamics. plot with porn. fingering. oral fixation. brat tamer inho. sub!reader. reader is very touch starved. a little yandere vibes. emotional manipulation. i made him very fatherly but toxic oops.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 8k more or less

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore mistakes.

you can't remember half of it. everything happened so quickly— your little moment of bliss shattered by 388's quick warning. the lights went out. one moment you were in young-il's arms, the next he was dragging you down towards 456, who was hiding under another bed. he shifted to make room for you and you crawled to his side. young-il followed.

"stay quiet," 456 whispered, looking around. not much was visible in the dark, but soon enough, the loud noise of bottles shattering and people screaming began echoing through the hall.

"they're killing each other—" you whisper, eyes wide. you shift slightly, raising your head. you try to sit up. "they're killing our side of the people—"

young-il halted your movements with a hand on your arm, "don't move." he hissed. "we can't leave till the guards come in."

"what?" you snap, voice hushed, "if they kill all our people, what's gonna happen in the next vote? we'll lose!"

"there won't be a next vote," 456 added, flinching slightly at another sharp cry. he looked determined. "we're stopping this today."

you glanced at him, heartbroken. you looked out again, heartbeat picking up as you saw player 380 run away from nam-gyu. he was on her tail, visibly trying to kill her. a bottle lay there by the bed, and before young-il could stop you, you slid it out. nam-gyu tripped on it and fell on his face. luckily, it was too dark and he was too worked up to check who it was. you just hoped it gave player 380 enough time to hide.

young-il restrained you then, pushing you down slightly so you were fully sandwiched between him and 456, "don't compromise our position!"

"how much longer?" you whispered, ignoring him. you winced as more sounds of bones cracking and people choking on their own blood took over the entire room. neither of them answered, but even 456 jumped a little as the body of one of the girls on your side fell to the floor.

your eyes widened as the girl's eyes met yours, and then she sputtered out blood before laying there, lifeless.

"don't look." young-il voiced out, craning his neck down to meet your gaze. he clenched his jaw, settling you with a cold glare, "look at me."

"you should've told me this was the plan," you hissed through gritted teeth, squinting as the flashing of lights overwhelmed your senses, "would you be okay if that was m—mphh!"

he put a finger to your lips, shaking slightly as he gave you another warning glare. 456 watched with bated breath, as if counting all the people dying.

the lights go off again, and the room remains dark. only the noises of people fighting can be heard.

"time to move," 456 tells young-il, who nods and begins shifting out of the bed. you follow along, but he pushes you back in, "don't get out until i tell you."

"what?" you frown, confused. your words are quick, "you expect me to hide here while you go out there to do god knows what—

as you speak, young-il grits his teeth, frustrated. he's desperate as he grabs your shoulders. he glances back, makes sure no one sees before silencing you with a kiss. it leaves you breathless. he cups your face and looks into your eyes intensely, "don't get out until i tell you to." his voice is urgent, "close your eyes, put your hands to your ears. trust me, and listen to me for once."

you blink rapidly before nodding, still a little out of it. you don't think you'll ever get used to how good kissing him feels. you wish you could feel it again and again, under better circumstances.

456 hisses for young-il, and he pats your head before rushing away as soon as the doors open. the guards come in, rapidly firing their machine guns towards the ceiling, stopping the fight. you watch carefully, heart dropping to your stomach as young-il and 456 lay there, as if dead, along with 390 and 388. you almost rush out to check on them, but young-il's previous words hold you back. you watch as the guards start putting those devices to the dead bodies' ears, and when they reach your team members, 456 suddenly attacks. the rest of the team similarly manages to take their guns away, and kill the remaining guards. you almost jump out of your skin as a firing match starts— and young-il and player 120 skillfully kill most of them. you look on with bated breath, flinching as the guards fall to the floors. you begin to get out from under the bed, panting. one of the guards was still hiding, and he immediately aimed the gun at you. before you could move, young-il shoots him dead.

you look around the room, swallowing the lump in your throat at the sight of all the dead bodies. so many people with hopes and dreams. people with families, laying there, lifeless. cautiously, you looked around with purpose, before your eyes fell on player 380's body.

she couldn't hide.

you look away, sweat rolling down the side of your head. you clench your jaw and glare at the other team, eyes narrowing with resentment as you catch sight of nam-gyu. swallowing hard, you walk past the bodies, careful not to step on them. your eyes fell on your team members gathering the guards' weapons.

so this was the plan. you frown, rushing forward to help them. the guns are heavy, but you manage to place many of them along with some ammo on the bedsheet laying there.

456 announces the plan— something about capturing the ones who captured them all, and going to their headquarters to make them pay. you shift your gaze to young-il, who stares ahead blankly, as if thinking hard. you wonder if he's scared.

"anyone who knows how to use guns and wishes to join us—" 456 calls out, "please step forward!"

the players are silent, frozen. cowards, you think to yourself. you step forward immediately, and young-il's face hardens so dramatically, it almost makes you laugh. he takes a step towards you, "absolutely not!" he snaps, "stay right there."

"you need all the help you can get!" you argue back sharply. you point an accusatory finger at player 100 and his team. "don't you see? even these so called tough guys aren't willing to go with you! don't put your trust in these people, i can help more than they can! my aim's great!"

while you talk, young-il pinches the bridge of his nose, calls your name again gruffly. a warning.

"don't drag us into this!" player 100 interrupts angrily, his lip curling with disgust. "this is madness! you don't stand a chance against them!"

you quite literally snarl as you rush towards him, jabbing a finger to his chest. it makes him stumble backwards, "you had no issue with risking our lives and your own for money, but standing up to those who caught you is where you draw the line?" you glower at him, scoff at the rest of his team. to emphasize your point, you gather saliva in your mouth, spit it by his shoe. "fucking pussy !"

young-il quite literally snatches you away by the collar of your jacket before the other team can do anything. it's a little baffling how swiftly he moves, even while carrying such a big gun. he takes you to your side of the bunker, shoves you onto the bed, "don't make me tie you up." he grunts threateningly, "you are not going and that's final. you're built like a bird, you won't stand a chance against armed guards. i refuse to watch you get killed."

456 calls out for you, voice soft but urgent, "it's best if you stay here. we won't be able to focus if he's— if we're worried about you."

you grit your teeth as you scowl at young-il with glassy eyes. they're tears of anger. you want to scream at him. you want to pull him towards you and never let him go. you look at your team, watch with longing as player 120 guides them on how to use their guns. she's brave and badass, it makes you want to be like her.

"and you're okay with getting killed?" you drift your attention back to young-il, voice cracking. "what am i supposed to do if something happens to you?"

young-il sighs, gaze softening as he kneels before you . your lips wobble as you glare daggers at him, eyes narrowed. he shakes his head, "i'll come back to you alive."

you scoff bitterly. "how can you be so sure?"

"i just am."

"promise me." you hold your pinky up, clenching your jaw as you stare at him intensely, "promise me you won't die. promise me you'll come back for me."

he looks at your pinky, and then at you. you've always found him harder to read than other people. but you see reluctance in his eyes. he sighs, before raising his own pinky, joining it with yours. the contrast between your hands would've been comical if you were not in this shithole. he gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"i promise."

you can hear player 100 yelling at his team, clearly talking shit about you. you look over young-il's shoulder, and he glances at the old man too before turning to you knowingly.

"don't get in any trouble while i'm gone." he whispers softly. he reaches behind his back. "and just in case— i want you to have this."

it's a pistol. he probably took it from one of the dead guards. your eyes widen and you look at young-il. he teaches you how to unload it, and reload it, and how to work the safety, before placing it in your palm. your gaze never leaves his face. questioning.

"you've made enemies here," he explains, as if it's obvious, "if any of the men there try anything—"

"you want me to kill them?" you quirk an eyebrow.

his mouth curls into a smirk, "i want you to be safe."

he gets up, and as player 100 looks at you again, you jokingly aim the gun towards him. he jumps back in fear, stumbling into the younger men at his side. you chuckle, and young-il lowers your hand. "behave."

it makes your heart jump.

"why does that kid get a gun and we don't?!" one of the younger men yells. young-il ignores him.

you grin at him almost childishly. he shakes his head before addressing 149— the old lady who got here with her son.

"don't let her leave," he tells her, giving you a stern, sidelong glance. you roll your eyes.

before he can leave, you grab his hand and look at him intensely. you can only hope your eyes can convey what you can't verbally, not in front of people. for his sake.

"be careful." you decide to say, voice cracking. you memorize every feature of his face, with only one thought in your mind.

you're not allowed to leave me.

he nods, looking away before walking to his team. you yell at them too, telling them to be careful and watch as they carefully exit. you look on with longing as you watch them go, before glancing down at the gun in your hand, and then at the door again. soon enough, you can hear the faint sounds of guns firing. it makes you jump, but player 149 puts a hand on your shoulder, comfortingly guiding you to sit beside her.

you almost contemplate rushing out, what would these people even do? stop you? you have a gun in your hand, although you wouldn't want to pull it on 149. she's a good lady. people are already scared. you don't want to make it worse.

so you stay, and hope that young-il keeps his promise. pinky promises are sacred. you either keep them, or you die.

you decide that if he dies, you'll just bring him back to life somehow and kill him again.

you don't remember how long you wait. multiple times, you stand up and pace around the room. agitated, scared. every gunshot has you looking at the door again and again, hoping that somehow young-il will decide to burst through it. 149 tells you to be calm, tries to distract you with your life outside the games. it doesn't work.

thankfully, the pistol in your hand had scared the other team enough to not try anything with you. they talk within themselves, trying to busy themselves with conversations and anxiously bouncing their legs as they look at the ceiling. you wonder how they can be so calm after killing your team.

"you people are cowards." you say to no one in particular. the message hits the target though, because the ones who weren't willing to go and help shift uncomfortably.

"you'd rather die losing to a stupid game instead of a noble death trying to help people," you chide, chuckling bitterly. 149 tries to stop you from talking, but you shrug her words off with a shake of your head. you stand up and face the other team again. "it's shameful. you had no problem killing others who were in the same position as you, but your oppressors is where you decide to stop?" you gesture towards the dead bodies. the sight of blood doesn't make you squeamish anymore. it just makes you sad.

"these people died because you wanted to keep playing." you hiss, "you killed them."

the people on the other side don't respond, instead lowering their gaze to the floor. you look at nam-gyu sitting on the side, fiddling with something. you want to kill him. you want to kill everyone who stopped you from going home, who became the reason more innocent people died. your morals are a bit fucked, you think, but you're okay with it. people who do bad things deserve to die. you raise the gun, aim it at player 100. he flinches, and sits straight up, raising his hands. his team members shuffle away from him, and it makes you snicker. when he's on death's door, they abandon him. "have you gone crazy!?"

"game or no game, you were meant to die." you clench your jaw, your mouth twitching. "shall i kill you, old man?"

you don't get to pull the trigger. you're interrupted by player 388 rushing inside, panicked and covered in blood. your eyes widen, and you go straight to him, grabbing his shoulders. he looks shaken up, "what happened? where's 001? is he okay? did you find—"

"gather all the remaining ammo," he says shakily, fumbling over his words, "we ran out. i need to take some back."

you nod, and 149's son comes to help you check the dead guards' gear and gather the remaining ammunition. 388 wraps it up in a jacket, and rushes to the door, before suddenly stopping. you pause, looking at him, sweat breaking out across your skin. there's a bad feeling in your stomach. "what's wrong? aren't you going?"

he doesn't respond. you can't see his face because his back is turned to you. a moment passes and you step forward cautiously. he drops the walkie talkie, and your eyes fall to the floor where it lands— where you can hear the voice of player 120 asking where he is. they have no ammo.

"i can't do it." 388 whispers, shaking. he rushes back to his bed, drops the little makeshift bag full of ammo and cowers into himself. your eyes widen. you look at the walkie talkie, and back to him. if they don't get ammo soon, they're going to die. you rush to the bed, shoot 388 a frown— you consider comforting him, but you have another priority now. you grab the bundle and turn to leave.

149 runs after you along with a few others, pulling you by the sleeve of your jacket. she's trembling with worry. "your father told me not to let you leave—"

amidst the chaos, you let out a chuckle.

"he's not my father," you reply, yanking your jacket from her grip and composing yourself. the sentence would've had you cackling in a better situation. you can't wait to tell young-il about it. you can understand why she'd think so, even though you and young-il look literally nothing alike. the opposite, really. he's like a father in spirit.

your face hardens and you address the crowd. "they need help. is anyone gonna come with me?”

nobody moves. you scoff bitterly. predictable.

149 looks at you helplessly, pushes her son to grab you. when he advances towards you, you pull out the gun and hold it to his head, eyes crazed as you pull the safety. you warn him dangerously, "step back."

he raises his hands and steps back, lowering his gaze. holding the bundle to your chest, you walk backwards, aiming the gun to both sides of the room and ensuring no one grabs you. you look at 149, meet her crushed gaze and mouth an 'im sorry' to her before running out as fast as you can.

you're quite sure you got lost. you're running as fast as you can, trying to follow the sounds of the gunshots, and looking for any bullet holes or signs of struggle. you look up and see broken cameras, and recall 120 shooting them back in the hall. you follow them until one of the red guards encounters you, immediately raising his gun. he's slow, infuriatingly so— but it doesn't matter because in your panicked haze, you shoot him in the stomach, then rush forward and kick his gun away before running off.

you can see your team. you let out a breath of relief, and as soon as 120 meets your gaze, she gasps. you shake your head and quickly slide over to her, giving her the rest of the ammunition. she quickly reloads, and you toss the rest to the other players, before looking around frantically, flinching at the gunshots. "where's 001 and 456?" you ask her.

"control room!" she points towards the end of the hallway, and you nod before advancing. she tries to protest but you're quicker, and she's preoccupied with firing. luckily, the guards never seem to fire at you.

there are two sides. you hesitate, before finally taking the left one where you just heard two gunshots. you quickly rush forward, pistol held protectively. the whole area looks like some sort of purple maze, and you're wary as you walk, scared that a guard might jump out and shoot you.

finally, you see your young-il's back. he's crouching on the floor, looking at a dying player. the relief you feel is baffling. your eyes widen, and you call out his name. "young-il sir!"

he tenses, turning back so fast that you worry he'd get a whiplash. visibly stressed, he rushes towards you, shaking his head, "no— no, no, no, no, no, what are you doing here!”

you run towards him, almost tripping on the stairs. he grabs your shoulders, shakes you aggressively, "i told you not to fucking leave!"

you almost flinch at his tone. it's strange to see him swear. you answer him shakily, panting, "they— they ran out of ammo, i couldn't leave you!"

he looks upset and shaken up, clenching his jaw as he pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling incoherently to himself. you turn towards the dying player, your expression pained. he tries to point at something, but you don't understand what. you kneel towards him, and his hand falls down. his croaking stops.

suddenly, you hear the footsteps of guards heading towards you. before you can move, you're surrounded. you hold onto your gun, shaking as you quickly stand up. you swallow hard, unblinking as they aim their guns at you.

that’s when you notice it.

they're aiming at only you, and not young-il. it makes you feel strange.

you look at him, and he's taking sharp breaths, as if trying to compose himself. or trying not to scream with rage. it's odd, how relaxed he looks. tense in the face, but relaxed in the way that he didn't take an offensive stance, or feel surprised at the sight of the guards. you frown in confusion, before he flicks his hand. the guards lower their guns.

you blink a few times, swallowing the lump in your throat, dread settling in your stomach. you look at the guards, then at young-il, who refuses to meet your gaze. you repeat the action.

guards. young-il. guards. young-il. then the players on the floor. then back at young-il's face. and it takes you a moment, but the realization sets in.

the guard letting you go to the restroom when young-il was by your side, him conveniently appearing to save you when you went exploring, him walking with that air of authority. how the guards never seemed to look at him too long. how easily he killed the man during mingle without a second thought. how one look from him had the guard lowering his gun during voting. how he was sure he wouldn't die. things that you never should've looked over.

you step back, your breathing getting ragged as you slowly raise your gun towards young-il. the guards point their guns at you again, ready to shoot. he stops them by raising his hand in warning. he clenches his jaw, his eyes unreadable and guarded.

"who are you." you demand tightly. your voice shakes pathetically, it makes you wince. you've never been this scared of anything in your life. not even the games.

"it doesn't have to be this way." he says quietly. his voice seems different, deeper. gravely. he holds his hand out to you in what he hopes is a comforting fashion. "put the gun down."

you step back, putting your finger on the trigger, just the way he taught you. ‘i want you to be safe,’ he'd said.

"i asked you a fucking question!" you yell, voice cracking. your gun feels slippery in your hands. it almost falls. you fumble trying to keep a tight grip on it. all this time, the prospect of death felt a little comforting with the idea that you'd have young-il by your side if it happened. but now, it just terrifies you. it looks bleak.

you sniffle, lips wobbling as fresh tears roll down your cheeks. you were always fucking unlucky. the first time you like a man this much, he turns out to be the bad guy. you feel utterly pathetic and terrified.

his eyes dart all over your panicked face before he gestures towards one of the guards, who raises his gun. there's a flash of guilt in his eyes that you can't miss. it makes your blood freeze. you refuse to die alone.

you straighten your aim towards young-il and pull the trigger. two gunshots ring out, and you don't get the time to react before something stings your chest, and you fall to the ground.

your vision goes black.

there are no dreams, no last memories. no flashes of your life. there's this heaviness in your chest, like someone is suffocating you.

you wake up with a startled gasp, sitting up immediately. your vision looks blurry, but with a few blinks you can make out a room. a lavish room with a closed window on the side. you frown in confusion, before putting your hand to your chest. there's no bleeding, no pain except the one in your muscles.

you swallow hard, your throat feeling dry. for a moment you wonder if it was all a dream, but when you try to move, you realize your right hand is chained to the side of the bed— with those strong black straps with locks that they used in the second game. you pull at it a few times, breathing getting heavy as you look down on yourself. your bloodied green jersey has been replaced by a comfortable pair of pink pyjamas that cover your arms and legs. you raise your hand to your head, and there's a small bandage on the right side of your face that you remember previously scratching in the bathroom.

you struggle a little, try to look for a way to unlock the straps, but it's like the room is purposely empty. absolutely no sharp or heavy objects to help you escape. like a prison cell.

you think of young-il. is he dead? you remember pulling the trigger. you knew the risk that came with aiming the gun at him when you were surrounded by guards— you just had this thought that if you were going to die, you would drag him with you. he won't get to live after what he'd done.

you don't get to brood about your thoughts for long, because the door opens and he steps inside— a man dressed in black, with a creepy mask. it makes you feel uneasy. you touch your chest again, look at him with a questioning gaze.

“it was just a tranquilizer.” he answers your silent question, voice distorted through the mask.

“is this really necessary?” you ask dryly, rattling the chain on your right hand.

“do you feel comfortable?” the man asks, gesturing towards your clothes.

you grit your teeth, “cut the bullshit. who are you?”

the man sighs, looking down, as if disappointed. he looks at you again before taking off the mask, and you feel like throwing up.

his hair looks different — slicked back with gel. his eyes look tired, even more so than back at the games. he looks more intimidating this way. you feel a strong urge to leap across the bed and ruffle his hair so he can look familiar again.

you have so much to say.

why did you do this? who the fuck are you? how are you still here, when i so clearly remember shooting you?

“you're alive,” you instead remark dryly. young-il gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

“your aim needs more practice,” he says quietly, patting his right shoulder. “barely grazed me.”

the idea of having hurt him almost makes your chest ache, but you remind yourself of who he is.

you sniffle, lips wobbling as you look at him. your dear young-il. who comforted you, protected you, held you and kissed you so dearly. he really made a fucking fool out of you.

“and what's all that for?” you tilt your head towards his hand. trying to put on a mask, just like him. a brave face.

he places the mask on the table, walks over to sit on the side of the bed. you flinch, moving away from him slightly.

he notices, and it hurts more than getting shot. he doesn't dare reveal that on his face.

“is your name even young-il?” you ask quietly, voice strained.

he shakes his head. you snort bitterly.

“i'm guessing you're the big boss then.” you remark flatly, looking around the room. forcing yourself to appear nonchalant. he wants to tell you to drop the act, because he can still hear your voice faltering.

he nods, “something like that. i design the games.”

you bite down on your lower lip to stop it from wobbling. nobody knows the strength it takes trying not to cry. you lower your gaze to your lap.

your next question is pathetic. you would expect yourself to scream and threaten him to let you go, but there's only one thing on your mind.

“was i a game to you too?” you ask quietly. you don't want to know the answer. perhaps you would've preferred it if he killed you.

he sighs, averting his gaze. he utters your name softly, and you feel like a weak woman because you still like the way he says it.

your voice almost waivers when you ask, “are you going to hurt me?”

he looks at you, blinks a few times before answering honestly. “don't make me.”

you hold back the urge to sob. your left hand comes up to clap over your mouth, and he looks away as you cower in on yourself. how can he say that, after covering your eyes and pulling you into him to ensure you didn't get scared by people getting killed? you wish there was atleast a lamp on the side table, maybe you could've cracked his skull to free yourself from this fear. and to take revenge for playing with your heart.

“you ruined everything.” he admits, voice growing tight. solemn. he clenches his jaw, mouth twitching with barely disguised anger. “i went into the games because of gi-hun, to make sure he doesn't stop the game. and then ended up paying more attention to you than him.”

you release a shaky breath, pulling your knees to your chest. your mouth twists with emotion. gi-hun. player 456. your eyes widen, heart leaping out of your throat.

“is he okay?” you ask, voice cracking with concern, “is he alive?”

his head snaps up— gaze hardening almost dramatically. his eye twitches, and he gives you a tight smile. it doesn't suit him because it's not the one you're familiar with. “are you worried about him?”

you glare at him, eyes narrowing.

“he’ll be fine.” he adds nonchalantly. his voice sounds different— cold in a way that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “would you rather be with him than me?”

you snort bitterly, looking away with a roll of your eyes. he can't be fucking serious. he has the audacity to be jealous after what he's done to you. he is so unbelievably ridiculous.

“put me back in the game.” you hiss through gritted teeth.

“i can't do that.” he shakes his head, “you will die in there. you won't survive the next games. i made sure they get increasingly difficult—”

“i'll win!” you argue, “i’ll beat them all and win, stop treating me like a fucking child—”

“you are a fucking child compared to me!” he bellows, making you flinch. your gaze never falters as you grit your teeth, looking at him with all the rage you can muster. he grabs your jaw, squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips pucker. he would've kissed you if he wasn't so fucking angry. his voice is harsh as he continues, shaking your head. “you! are quite literally a baby compared to me and the others in there. they're ruthless animals who won't hesitate to rip you apart to win. you're going to die in there and i wouldn't be there to save you!”

his words have your stomach churning, because he's right. but that doesn't matter to you.

“since when do you care?!” you snap challengingly. your words come out muffled.

he glares back at you, his nostrils flaring with anger, “i wish i didn't care.” he hisses, voice low. hoarse. he leans towards you. “oh how desperately i wish i didn't care about you.”

your heart begins to race as you stare at him, dumbfounded, unable to speak. he looks into your eyes, then glances down at your lips, before making eye contact again. he lets go of your face and straightens up, composing himself.

“you almost ruined my entire plan.” his voice is collected, almost guarded. “you consume my every waking thought ever since i felt your head against my chest. do you know how many times i had to warn my guards not to shoot you? especially with how many times you kept crossing the line?”

your breath hitches, and you open your mouth to argue. he doesn't give you a moment to speak.

“i'm not sending you back in the games where you can die.” he continues darkly. he brings his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. the action is gentle— a stark contrast against what he previously did. the situation you're in, the kind of man he is. you blink at him, eyes teary. his gaze softens just slightly. “you made me promise not to abandon you. I don't plan to.”

“you're a sick man,” you whisper. you can't believe he's holding that against you— your promises from when he was deceiving you, “you designed those fucking games. you can stop them anytime you wanted. i got stuck here because of you, you killed all those innocent people. you're a sadistic, psychotic asshole—”

he shoots you a warning glare, pressing his hand against your mouth. “don’t test me, brat. ”

you sniffle, letting out a pained whimper. you push his hand off your mouth, “let me go.”

he looks unamused, “i can't do that.”

“were you not planning to leave me?” you try to reason with him, desperate. “when you left with the rest of the team? you wouldn't have come back after that—”

“i would've found a way to get you home.” he admits quietly. “i had a plan. but then you came running after me like the brat you are. you never listen.”

“then let me go now!” you protest heatedly. his words have your heart hurting. if that's true, then you're the one who sealed your fate. another impulsive decision ruined your life. “i told you about me. i told you about my mom! i miss her. she and my sister—" you almost choke on a sob as you croak the words out, the mere thought of them driving you to insanity, "they need me."

“i've settled your father's debt,” he mentions after a moment of silence, looking deeply into your eyes. he hopes it gives you some comfort, stops you from wanting to leave him. “you don't have to go back. they'll live a life of ease.”

your blood runs cold. that means he knows where they are.

“do you expect me to fucking thank you?” you can't hold back the tears rolling down your cheeks, shaking your head, “i wanna go home.” you sniffle, “you ruined our lives. you played with my feelings and my life. people are dead because of you. how can you say you'd have let me go home one moment, and then refuse it the next?”

"don't hurt them," you speak again, leaning forward almost pleadingly. perhaps you shouldn't piss him off. you're not the kind to beg for your life. but your family? now that's another thing. "please keep them out of this. dont hurt them, please."

"i won't," he says airily, his dark eyes deeply boring into yours, "not if you don't give me a reason to. just be good."

you sniffle, violently trembling. be good. you'll be good. for your family's sake.

his hands cup your face and you flinch. his thumbs brush the tears away. you avert your gaze. you can't meet his eyes— you resent him.

you resent yourself because his touch still makes you feel an odd sense of comfort.

"this is torture," you choke out, "why are you doing this to me?"

he says your name softly, guides your face up to look at him, “i’m selfish.” he admits. “the moments i spent with you.. was the happiest i've been in a… long, long time. i'm not ready to let go of that. ever. ”

he has lost everything. his wife, his baby. his brother. his humanity. only now he has control over his life, enough resources. he can change fate with a flick of his finger. he's not going to lose you, not after you've made him feel human again, for the first time in years. you've ripped open his ribcage and climbed inside, sealed it shut with your touch. he hasn't been needed by anyone like this— it gives him a sense of purpose. he doesn't trust himself to not lose his mind if you're ever out of his sight. he'll make sure you're by his side, where he can hold you and comfort you. whatever it takes.

you shake your head, lips wobbling. you try to pull away, your free hand coming up to hold onto his, to pry it off your face. he doesn't let up, instead climbing towards you and invading your personal space as he presses your foreheads together.

“i don't know about you kids, but in my time, pinky promises were a big deal,” he says lowly, the side of his mouth quirking up. he's trying to joke, he wants to see you smile again. the way you did when you looked at him— with stars in your eyes. like he's your hero. nothing else has ever made him feel more alive. “i’m afraid i can't let you go.”

you let out a shudder, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes you till your back collides with the bed. you shake your head, voice tired. “just kill me.”

his face drops, and he looks at you coldly, “you think i'd have you here like this if i planned to kill you?”

you don't respond to that, your chest heaving. everything hurts. your head is pounding, and you feel faint.

his thumb brushes across your cheekbone. he looks at you tenderly, analyzing every feature of your face.

“you know, i really expected you to struggle harder against me.” he observes. the words make you feel embarrassed. your skin heats up with shame, and you clear your throat, looking anywhere but him.

he might be right, you think. you've struggled a little, yes, but he can tell you have the ability to be so much more insufferable. but you're not, not yet. it's fucked up. because even after everything, for some reason you can't seem to brush him off you. you can't seem to let go of the comfort and hope he provided you in one of the most terrifying moments of your life.

you convince yourself it's because your family's life is on the line. not because of your personal feelings.

you don't answer him. you don't have to either, because judging by the small smirk creeping on his face, he knows.

“i'll take care of you,” his face softens. he's trying to convince you. there's a desperate edge to his voice. you look so utterly beautiful to him— your complexion glowing even more because of the pink pyjamas he got for you. in that moment he makes a mental note of what color clothes he'd shower you in the most. “those people down there that you're so desperate to save? they would've thrown you under the bus to win. they don't care about you. i'll make sure you're safe. the life you were living before was worthless. let me look after you.”

“i hate you,” you whisper, voice cracking. another tear rolls down your cheek, and he wipes it away. you don't mean it. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“i know.”

you don't get to speak again, because he tilts your head up and crashes his mouth onto yours in a bruising, punishing kiss. it makes you wince, and you choke on a soft sob. against your better judgement, you kiss him back.

the moment your mouth parts under his, he takes the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding in. he moans into your mouth, holding your face as he climbs over you completely. you contemplate biting his tongue off, but you don't. as if reading your mind, his hand comes down to gently squeeze your throat— just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. you gasp softly, eyes blinking dazedly at him. he pulls his mouth away, then places a soft peck upon your lips. then another. and another. you take greedy breaths as you squirm under him. his hand leaves your throat and slips under your top and you jolt at the feeling of his warm hands against your tummy. his mouth trails down, leaving soft kisses across the smooth skin of your neck.

“you’re sick.” you gasp shakily, throwing your head back, giving him more room to place his wet kisses upon you.

“you're the one letting a man like me touch you,” he whispers hoarsely against your neck, voice slightly teasing. “maybe you're just as sick as i am.”

his words make you shiver. you consider them, and you force yourself to think of all the people back there in the hall, ready to march to their deaths tomorrow. your eyes open and you snap out of your trance.

you use your free hand to push slightly at his chest, gaze pleading, “don't kill them,” you whisper. “let them go. atleast our team. they're good people—”

“are you really doing this?” the switch in his voice has you quivering slightly. his hand comes up, grabs your hair. it stings just slightly. a warning. "do you think they would've been this desperate to save you?"

you let out a noise of protest, looking at him helplessly. trying to touch a string of empathy within him. he has none, not anymore.

“they knew what they were getting themselves into. there's no favoritism. you either win, or die.”

your ears ring, heart pounding against your chest. “then what am i?”

he smirks, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

“you're my little girl.” he noses the side of your neck. goosebumps rise on your skin, “don't bring that up again.”

you grit your teeth, feeling even more remorseful. is there no way to change his mind? even being responsive to his affection doesn't help.

but you're not being docile to change his mind.

you realize you're pliant because you like being under him.

your logical side forces you to speak. your guilty conscience doesn't allow you to get too comfortable under a killer. "this feels wrong."

he stops, clenches his jaw with restrained anger. he squeezes his eyes shut, mentally counts from 1-10 to avoid doing anything he might regret later.

"let me make you an offer," he pulls back, cocking his head to the side. his eyes are unreadable, voice flat, "i'll let them go on one condition."

your eyes widen with hope, and you nod enthusiastically, eager for him to speak.

"with every player i leave alive—" a small smirk appears on his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. "i'll kill someone you love."

the way terror seized you was suffocating. your throat immediately felt dry, eyes widening with shock. you stared at him, motionless, images of your family, your friends, flashing through your head. his hand gently splayed across your stomach, pressing down a little.

"a life for a life." he announced again, giving you a tight lipped smile, "how does that sound?"

"no." you warned, clasping his wrist desperately with your free hand, breathing rapidly. "no— no. please don't. i'll— i'll stay with you. i'll do anything you say, just—" you held back a sob, "please don't hurt them."

in life threatening situations— people only look out for two types of people. themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

he smiled fully then, amused. predictable, he thinks, before leaning back down, "then conversation's over."

"you made the right choice," he whispered. you didn't bother struggling, squeezing your eyes shut. his hand pulls down your top just enough. his mouth quite literally waters as he bites down on your exposed skin, leaving cherry red bruises across your collarbones.

you have no choice, you tell yourself. it's okay to get comfortable now. you couldn't have done anything.

you mewl, and he slips two of his fingers in your mouth, watching intently with a hungry gaze as you suck on them enthusiastically— just like back in the hall. your eyes flutter, and you mumble incoherently as his fingers gently thrust in and out of your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. it’s messy and sloppy, and the sight of your saliva slipping down your chin makes him moan softly, “my pretty baby.”

you whimper as his hand slides down to your bottoms. you wait with bated breath as you look at him with hazy eyes. his hand slips down into your panties, and a desperate moan escapes your bruised lips.

“i just want to ruin you,” he chuckles breathlessly, teasing your entrance. he hovers over you, looks at you like a starving man as he pinches your clit. you yelp slightly. he taunts you, gaze full of faux innocence as he raises his eyebrows. “does it hurt, huh, sweetheart? do you want daddy to make you feel good?”

“oh fuck—” the moment that word comes out of his mouth, in his soft, breathy voice— you moan. you're pathetic. it's whiney and high pitched and so utterly desperate, it makes him proud to get a reaction like that out of you. and suddenly he understands a little more why you got so attached to him. he pecks your lips again, and smirks against your mouth. he teases your entrance with a single finger.

you whine, “please.”

“what did you say, hm?” he pretends not to hear you, pushing two fingers in. you've never been brave enough to use two even while masturbating— and his are long and thick. the stretch makes you wince. “come on, baby, tell your old man what you said.”

you try to capture his lips with yours again in hopes that he would stop teasing you. he chuckles breathlessly, then lets out a soft moan at the way your walls clench around him.

“i’m a sadistic, psychotic asshole, right?” he throws your words back at you, and you wince. you squeeze your eyes shut, bite down on your lips to hold back a needy whine. his fingers pull back and then thrust again, curling slightly. his thumb goes to your clit, rubbing it. you take a sharp breath, squirming on the bed as you moan again. he doesn't let up, “is that not what you called me? and now you want me to make you feel good?”

his voice grows serious again, face hardening. his motions stop. “apologize.”

your eyes snap open, and you look at him, surprised. “huh?”

“apologize,” he repeats, “for everything you said earlier. and i'll consider making you cum.”

that gets you to clench your jaw. you glare at him with narrowed eyes, chest heaving with frustration. but you won't do it. if anyone should be apologizing— it's him. he was the one who deceived you and ruined your life. and he hasn't apologized even once. he must think you're stupid. hell would freeze over before you apologize.

you almost reconsider your decision— but then again, his threat only stands if he leaves the players alive. he didn't say anything about language. you shake your head, your previous stubbornness taking over. “not a chance in hell.”

he snorts, looking at you, unamused. his facial expressions don't change, but you can see it in his eyes. little things like a twitch give him away. your heart drops as he pulls his hand out completely, his fingers glistening and wet. he brings them to his mouth, sucks the juices off so casually that it leaves you dumbfounded and flustered.

“i have no patience for brats.” he nods, standing up. you stutter over your words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. much like it did when you first met.

“b-but—”

“i have some work to do.” he announces coldly. you wonder if he's going to do something bad. he's having the time of his life, sexually and emotionally tormenting you. “i'll be back in a bit. i asked the guards to bring you some chocolate milk. feel free to tell them your favourite food for dinner.”

the sudden change in events has you so unbelievably baffled that you can't say a thing as he begins to leave. it's brutal, and it almost makes you want to cry.

“sir?” you call out softly, almost timidly. unsure of how to address him. you're not going to take a risk.

he stops midway, before sighing to himself. he turns to you, looks at the desperation in your eyes.

“inho is fine.” he remarks flatly, swallowing hard. he doesn't know why he decided to reveal his name to you.

perhaps because it would give him another excuse to not let go of you.

you keep looking at him, a devastated expression on your face. like you're dying inside. and maybe you are.

your only source of comfort is gone. you'd gotten too used to it in the past few days. now you wish you'd never met him.

the emotion on his face is unreadable as he walks back to you. he places a soft kiss to your forehead and turns to leave. you grab his hand. the prospect of being alone leaves you terrified. maybe if you can convince him to stay, be good for him, he wouldn't hurt your loved ones. you'll behave.

you start to miss how things used to be.

if things were different, he would have come back to you. he would smile as he walked through the door, and you would finally feel your heart pumping blood as you run to him. he'd drop his gun and hold you, and you'd cry into his chest. he'd ask you if you caused any trouble, and you would take him to your bed and tell him everything. you would tell him that 149 called him your father, and he would laugh— his old man laugh which sounds so sweet and makes his eyes crinkle. he would ruffle your hair and say something along the lines of, ‘with how many times i've saved your ass, i might as well be.’

from a younger age, all you've ever desired is comfort, something you never received. someone to hold you when you cry, to take care of you. protect you. you're sick of being the tough one. the mere idea of it was so far away for you, that the first show of affection and reassurance had you getting this terribly attached. perhaps, inho's biggest crime was taking that away from you.

“inho.” you whisper, visibly crushed. you don't even feel horny anymore. you just miss his comfort, his soft words of reassurance. his laugh. your eyes grow teary. “please don't leave me.”

he looks at you, contemplating. he sighs defeatedly, before grasping your hand properly. it's so warm, and you choke on a soft sob as the reality of your situation sinks in again. you're done for. there's no escape. you're alone, and there's no one to save you. your young-il will not come swooping in to protect you, because he was never there in the first place. you don't even realize when you break down into heartbreaking sobs, breathing ragged.

he isn't used to showing much physical affection. not after what he went through, not until you. and now with you like this, something softens within him. he sits back down on the bed, wordlessly leaning into you, his arms open. you feel utterly pathetic at how quickly you crawl into his lap, burying your face in his chest. you feel like you're betraying your team, but do you have a choice? perhaps you did. you could've chosen to be tough and refuse his affection. but the stakes are different now. your family's life is on the line.

you never stood a chance, not after you met him.

and you don't want to think of a single instance where you don't get to experience being held by him.

your morals are more fucked than you thought. even after all the threats, after him practically forcing you to stay, you can't help but desire his affection. you'll be selfish for once. what could you have done anyway? you would've died in there, and your family would be alone. if what he said is true, atleast now they can live a life of ease without any debts.

as for your team, 456 will look out for them. he's alive, afterall.

you force your mind to be silent.

“i miss you,” you wail painfully, your free hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.

he holds you like a child, a hand pressing your head close, the other wrapping around your waist. he shushes you gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he doesn't regret anything he did. you'd made him promise to come back for you, afterall. he always keeps his word. “i'm right here.”

you lean into his neck, and breathe in the smell of him. you squeeze your eyes shut till your sobs die down into the occasional hiccup. the stretch of your right hand and the rattling of the chains is another reminder of where you are.

perhaps if you stay hidden against his chest, you can try to convince yourself it's still your young-il holding you like this.

A/N: so! that's the end of dusk till dawn. this story truly was my joker. i tend to add a lot of psychological elements and character interactions so the fic feels more immersive and realistic, like you're really part of the game. i hope you liked it. can y'all tell who my favourite characters are? lol. also, i'm very horrible with smut so i really tried but i just can't write too much 💔 I'm mostly an angst girl as you can tell. anyways, this was a little self indulgent. thank you so much for the support you guys showed me, it truly means everything! i might write blurbs related to this specific couple from time to time, but no promises! maybe if i get good ideas or requests. anyways i rambled a lot. thank you for reading. feedback is always motivating.

tags: @bonelessghoul @cowuies @auspicious-lilana @politicstanner @verouys @gloriousjellyfisharcade @carolinevoight @shadowmoonlight0604 @ancrygurl @sunoon @jessgentleman @colorwastaken @loversroq @clown-around-and-find-out @popcorm @xcinnamonmalfoyx @robertthehoover @iloveoldermen0204 @kpopsmutty69 @iamkali

#raven writes #frontman x reader #the frontman x reader smut #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x you #squid game x reader #squid game x reader smut #squid game fanfic #salesman x reader #player 001 x reader #player 456 #young-il x reader #lee byung hun x reader

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tojisbbg · 2 months ago

Text

pacify her

❝she's getting on my nerves, you don't love her... stop lying with those words!❞

♡ caleb ♡

sypnosis: you and caleb have been best friends for years, growing up and living together since childhood. nothing more and nothing less... so why did seeing him with that bitch hurt so much?

wc: 20k (i know, sorry, i got carried away but it's good i promise)

a/n: hai!! thank you so much for all the love and support on my first lads smutfic i posted for valentines day, i did not expect it to blow up like that (calebcore). as a token of my appreciation, please take this caleb smutfic as a gift. this is my longest written piece as of yet, so if this flops i'm gonna pull a caleb. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: fratboy!caleb x fem!reader, college au, reader is a little naive, heavy possessiveness on both sides (c'mon, it's caleb), heavy jealousy, mean caleb, reader's manipulative, lots of sappy feelings, pure filth, porn with plot, smut (lots of sex, beware!! and no details, find out lol), all acts are consensual, not edited.

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"what was that, pipsqueak? couldn't hear ya from up here." caleb smirked, violet eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned down a little.

"calebbb! give me back my phone, i'll be late for my nail appointment." you whined, once again trying to snatch your phone out of his grip. however, your attempts were futile and comical; as the obviously taller man kept extending his hand out of your reach purposely.

"ask me nicely and maybe, just maybe, i'll give it back." he teased, chocolate brown fringes falling over his eyes as he tilts his head to the side.

"stop being mean!" you huff out, annoyed as you kept tiptoeing and reaching up to grab your phone.

caleb continued to watch you helplessly struggle against his height with nothing but amusement. he was more focused on how your skirt hiked up with every small jump, revealing more of the soft skin of your thighs. or how your tits cutely jiggled a few inches right below his face as you wore a pink laced babydoll top.

it was wrong and downright perverted, but god did it make his cock throb.

"caleb-" your words were cut short as you lost your footing, the thick heel of your mary janes slipping on the wooden floor of your living room. you yelped, face planting on caleb's chest as he wrapped his free arm around your waist to ground you.

"woah, easy there, pipsqueak. if you wanted a hug from me so bad you could've just asked." caleb lightly joked, making you pout as you looked up at him with a gaze he could only describe as-

how to get caleb hard in under two seconds.

your eyes were probably his most favorite feature of you. they were so doey, how they'd disappear when you'd giggle over his jokes, how your pupils would dilate when he bought you those stupidly adorable bows you wear on your hair; or how you'd look at him like he's ripped your heart straight out of your chest when you didn't have things go your way.

lethal puppy eyes.

"please caleb?" such a sultry voice only you could produce that could make even the strongest man on earth crumble; and god, caleb was definitely not the strongest soldier on the battlefield when it came to you.

"okay, okay, here." he smiled, handing you back your phone as his eyes briefly glanced at the dangling apple phone charm—which he had one as well to match with you.

"yay, thanks. i'm gonna go then, my girl friends are waiting for me." your eyes lighten up, giving him a girly smile which nearly sent his soul flying.

"mhm, make sure you make it in time for your math lecture, y'know how strict that professor is. batting those cute lashes of yours won't work on him like it does on me." caleb reminded you, his tone became slightly stern, but you only giggled at the sudden shift of his demeanor.

"roger that, captain." you gave him a small salute, making his small facade break for a couple of seconds as he cracked a smile.

"cheeky brat." he shook his head as he watched you rush out the door, purse adorned on your shoulder. suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pockets.

ding!

your $100 transaction at nailsbytojisbbg is complete

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you walked out of your last lecture, chit-chatting with a classmate as you exited the building. you noticed the familiar figure of a tall, broad man in the distance, wearing a white tanktop and gray shorts.

your lips curled into a smile, quickly waving your classmate goodbye as you quickened your footsteps. but, your smile would drop as you observed that he was not alone.

a girl, whom you've never met before, emerged from behind him as they both conversed. your steps became less urgent, a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach and chest—making you nauseous.

before you could turn around and walk away, caleb already caught your eyes, smiling as he waved at you. now there was absolutely no way in avoiding him, so you tried your best to reciprocate a smile to him, using one of your freshly manicured hands to wave back.

the distance between you two, or rather three, soon closed as caleb now stood in front of you; backpack slung over his shoulder.

"finished your classes, pips?" caleb asked, eyeing you playfully as if to prevent you from lying to him.

"yes, why wouldn't i?" you scoffed, making him chuckle.

"just checking 'cause you have a bad habit of skipping that class and i don't want you to fail." he pinched your cheek and although he teases you with this all the time, for some reason it was irking you now specifically because that stupid random girl was standing beside him.

you didn't want her to think that caleb knew dumb girls like you!

"i'm not failing that class, caleb. also, i only skip that class when needed, you're making me sound like a bad student." you glared at him, swatting his hand away from your face.

caleb's eyes widened at the sudden ill reaction from you, holding his hands up to surrender.

"my bad, pipsqueak; didn't know you were all studious now." caleb lightheartedly chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

"whatever, i guess we're not going home together since you have company." you commented, your tone a bit vice as you glanced at the girl next to him who quietly took in the interaction. caleb noticed the heavy tension between you two, thinning his lips as he mentally slapped himself for not introducing you both to each other.

"oh, caleb, it's fine. you could go home with your sister, we could catch up on the project another time." she smiled, making you almost puke in your mouth.

your eyebrows pinched together at her words.

sister?

you weren't his damn sister, did he not talk about you to her? all of caleb's friends knew of your presence in his life as caleb always made sure to let the whole world know about the one and only person that mattered to him the most.

you.

although you and caleb aren't related by blood, you were just as close to him as real family, and likewise for you. your adoptive grandmother passed away a few years back when the two of you were still high schoolers.

josephine, your grandma or gran as you both would call her, was a pretty kind old lady. she always treated you two like her own, making sure that you and caleb were nothing short of living a normal childhood. the initial plan was to only adopt you, but after seeing how inseparable you and caleb were, she didn't have the heart to snatch you away from him.

it was odd because you both weren't related, but she never pried deep into why.

all because of an apple.

when caleb was first brought in, he was hostile and scared; like most kids would. no matter how much the nurses and caretakers tried, they couldn't get him to take a single bite of food.

so one night, you saved your apple from dinner by hiding it under your bed, waiting for the lights to go out. after deeming the coasts to be cleared, your small footsteps tiptoed to the boys room as you opened the door to find him crouched against the wall; head buried in his knees as he sniffled.

you approached him with a gentle aura, sitting on your knees in front of him as you softly tapped his arms; glossy amethyst eyes meeting yours before landing on your small hands that offered him an apple.

the rest was history.

gran's death hit you both hard, but she always thought two steps ahead; leaving her inheritance for both you and caleb to use towards your education and living expenses.

she knew how much caleb wanted to be a fighter pilot and work for the DAA one day. as for you, well, you're a bit... slower on the run. you didn't know what you wanted to be and to be honest, school really wasn't your thing. gran always assured you that you didn't need to have things figured out so early and that you'd eventually have things sorted out... but that was four years ago.

you're now a sophmore in college while caleb's in his senior year.

"ah, no, y/n isn't my sister. she's my best friend, actually." caleb corrected, rubbing the back of his nape as the girl's eyes widened at the revelation, quickly apologizing.

"it's fine, most people assume that anyways, so we're used to it. we grew up together, so in a way, it makes sense." you shrug, making caleb frown.

"trust me, i'd never wanna be related to this pipsqueak here, she's a handful." caleb poked fun at you, making you groan as you pinched his side, making him yelp.

"i'm not!" you defended, making him laugh.

"as you say. now, before i forget, y/n this is my classmate from my mechanics lecture, ___. we're both in the aviation program, so we're paired up for the final project." he explained with a bright smile, but the commonalities between them only made your skin crawl.

why did he smile around her like that?

was he that happy to have someone like her in his field of interest?

were you not enough for him?

all these questions assaulted your mind, giving you a rising migraine.

"hello, earth to pipsqueak, you with me?" his voice woke you up, making you sigh.

"i wanna go home, tired." you shortly said before walking off, not bothering to wait for him or glare at that bitch one last time.

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you were splayed on the couch, head rested against the soft apple cushion you forced caleb to purchase years back because it seemed like a perfect buy. too lazy and annoyed to go up to your room and change out of your clothes, you decided to cool off by listening to some music.

as you leisurely listened to your playlist, you observed your nails which you got done earlier. the music blared in your ears and you failed to notice the jingling sound of the door-lock, the knob twisting open before revealing a tired caleb with arms full of groceries.

you took a quick look at him before quickly gluing your eyes back on your nails. your best friend noticed, a small smile perking up as he realized that you were still a bit annoyed at him for earlier.

that was no biggie, he had no problem in apologizing to you hundreds of times until you forgave him.

that's how it always was for you two, even as kids. as adorable and cheeky you were, you were a damn klutz too. so, you'd end up tripping and bumping into tables, causing the beautiful antic vases gran thrifted to fall and shatter on the floor.

not wanting you to get into trouble, he'd take the blame for you, saying he knocked it over when playing basketball inside.

when you two argued, it was always short lived no matter who was in the wrong; because caleb would always end up being the first to apologize, not being able to stay mad or distant from you. if he was to describe your place in his life in just a few words, he'd say you're just as important as the air he needed to breathe.

it's natural for him to need you, to want you and to love you.

caleb kicked off his shoes after closing the front door, walking over to the couch where you were resting and ignoring his presence. with a small grunt, he placed the grocery bags down before hopping on the couch; plopping right on top of you without exerting his entire weight, not wanting to crush you.

you groaned in both annoyance and the sudden weight of his body, shooting him a glare from between your fingers, but he only grinned at you.

"still mad at me, pipsqueak?" caleb asked, placing his head on your stomach as peered up at you, giving you his stupid puppy eyes.

literally, he looked like a sad, wet puppy.

it took everything in your willpower to not throw away every ounce of anger and jealousy you had boiling inside of you to just wrap your arms around him.

so, you just closed your eyes and ignored him, turning up the volume on your phone.

caleb frowned at your actions, using a hand to tug on the wire as the earphone plugged in your right ear fell.

"hey, i'm talkin' to ya, pips." his voice was soft, but harbored a little bit of disappointment.

"don't wanna talk to you." a childish huff left your mouth as you glared down at him, but to caleb you looked like an angry kitten.

so, he took bait.

"really? so after paying for these cute nails, you won't even show me? no 'thank you, caleb! you're the best in the world!' ? i think i've spoiled you rotten." he lets out an exasperated sigh, but his expression is more fond than annoyed.

his gaze drifts back to your nails, his fingers briefly wrapping around your wrist to take a closer look.

"cute and expensive..." he tuts, but his thumb is gently stroking the softness of your wrist.

"what are you implying? that i get a job and work my cute ass off?" you murmured, your tone full of offense just at the thought.

he lifts his gaze back to your face, his playful smirk back in place.

"of course not. i don't mind providing for your cute ass until we both reach our graves and you know that, y/n." he laughs, shaking his head in mock annoyance. his grip on your wrist loosens, but his fingers continue the light stroking motion almost absentmindedly.

"but now that you mention it, maybe having a taste of the real world wouldn't be so bad after all. then you'd be more appreciative of all the things i do for you." his eyes dancing with amusement as he feigns indifference.

of course, caleb didn't mind whether or not you wanted to get a job. in fact, he liked being able to provide for you and spoil you rotten! seeing the joy in your eyes when he agreed to buy you those stupidly overpriced trinkets that now decorate both of your rooms, or shopping for clothes and shoes and of course your nails and makeup.

after everything you've done for him, which was simply existing in his lonely life, he felt like he owed you his whole life. he'll never forget that night, when the two of you had nothing, yet you gave him everything.

the kindness of your heart.

"tch, now you really do sound like my brother." you joked, knowing how much it irked him when you called him that.

a grimace flashes across his face, his grip on your wrist tightens momentarily. he always hated it when you called him your brother or when someone mistakenly addressed you as his sister.

"don't call me that." he mutters, his voice firm and possessive.

"then don't nag at me like one." you bit back.

his expression softens, his grip loosening back into a gentle touch. he sighs, a mixture of frustration and concern creeping into his expression.

"i just... i worry about you, alright? i try to give you everything you want, but you don't—" he cuts himself off, the words hanging in the air, as if choosing whether to continue or not.

"i don't what?" you cocked an eyebrow.

"nevermind." caleb mumbled under his breath, lifting himself off of you, only for you to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him back.

"no, say it." you looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

he looks away, his gaze locking on a small crack in the wall, his voice low and gruff. he's struggling to articulate his feelings, not wanting to hurt you.

"you don't... apply yourself. you spend your time on things that don't matter. you have talents, but you don't use them. you're wasting your potential, pipsqueak. gran left behind so much for us, i'm sure she'd want you to take advantage of the path she built for us." caleb explained, violet eyes locked with your as his tone was stern but still embrace a gentleness to it—hoping that you could take his words to heart.

which you did, but not in the way he wanted you to.

"are you getting tired of me, caleb?" your voice wavered, coming out like a whisper.

his eyes widen in surprise, and he shakes his head vehemently.

"no, god no. it's not that at all. it's just—" he pauses, his gaze flitting away for a moment before returning to you, his expression a mix of frustration and conflict as he pursues his lips.

"we've known each other since we were kids. you're just as smart as i am, so why don't you want to be...more? pips, i don't mind devoting my whole life to feed you, spoil you endlessly and so much more—but i want you to seek out more in life. we both came a long way, from being unwanted to finding each other. i just want you to take everything that you can." a gentle calloused hand came up to stroke your cheek, his fingers lithe and a little cold.

caleb had a habit of getting clamy hands when he was nervous.

"smart? don't make me laugh. you and zayne were always ahead of me, it was so embarrassing to show gran all those red marks on my grades. i-i... i don't have a place in the world of academics. why do you think i spend so much time on caring about how i look? if i can't offer the world my brain then maybe i could make it up with my looks. and if all goes to hell, then i'll just marry some old, rich guy." you shrugged, your words coming out a bit jokingly as you chuckled at the end.

he falls silent, for once rendered speechless by the nonchalance in your tone. he doesn't know what's more infuriating—that you think so little of yourself, or that you could so easily imagine a life without him.

"is that what you think you're worth? that being a trophy wife is the best you can do?" he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his anger in check.

"at this rate, honestly yeah." you grumbled, looking away from him.

his eyes narrow, a mixture of anger and exasperation in his gaze. he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes which were full of hurt at how you downplayed yourself.

"bullshit! you're smart, talented, and goddamn beautiful, and you're just gonna waste it all by marrying some rich guy you don't even like?" caleb grits his teeth, cupping your cheek as his thumb rubbed across the apple of your soft mounds.

"there's no other choice! look, i get it, okay? you have a life too and i don't wanna be a pest leeching off of you forever." your lips quiver, heart pounding in your chest as it felt like someone just twisted the knife in your gut as the words left your lips.

only to be oblivious that your words cut caleb deeper than it did you.

"no choice? there's always a choice for you as long as i'm alive on this earth, y/n—me! i'll work my ass of in this program and get in the DAA to be a badass fighter pilot and make tons of money. i'll be the only man you'll ever need, don't you worry your pretty head over nothin', you hear me? don't ever think you're a liability. i need you, damn it." he poured his heart out, looking deep into your eyes as if he was trying to touch your soul; gently to caress it and help you mend those scars of insecurity that bled.

but you were scared and found it difficult to believe his words, not after seeing how happy he looked earlier with someone else that was not you.

"you don't have to lie, caleb. that girl from earlier... she seems like a better pick for you. she's smart enough to be in the aviation program with you, she's strong and she's pretty. she has beauty and brains while i merely have half." your throat squeeze tightly, a lump forming as it physically hurt to say the next set of words.

"she's perfect for you, caleb." your eyes welled with tears as you looked down to where your hands rested on your stomach.

"i don't care if she's smarter, or more talented. she's not you. she's not the one i grew up with, the one who's always been there for me. this is what she can't offer me. this connection we have. i don't want anyone else, I just want you in my life, pipsqueak." his jaw tightens, his eyes fierce as he speaks. he takes your hand, bringing it to his chest, his heart beating rapidly under your palm.

all the tears that you've been holding back finally slip out one by one, running down your flushed cheeks as streaks of black mascara taints your skin. caleb's eyes softened, sitting on his knees before pulling you up with him, cradling your head in his chest.

"shh... it's okay, i'm here. i'm not leaving you, i promise." he whispers in a honeyed voice, making your heart flutter as you sobbed.

"e-everyone's so mean to me! your friends whistle and laugh when i walk past them in my skirts or if the bow in my hair unties and falls—o-or when i trip on my pumps! they call me a bimbo or brainless s-slut!" you choked on your tears, clutching onto his shirt as your tears formed damp puddles on the white fabric.

caleb's eyes darkened at your words, blood boiling in fury. his embrace tightened, but a vein could be seen present on his forehead as he tried his best to keep his temper in check while calmly speaking to you.

"they said what now, y/n?" his tone was grave, making your breathing go a bit uneven.

"h-hey, it's okay. i don't see them much anyways." you tried to assure him, but caleb was no longer listening.

all the functions in his brain has gone haywired, loss of connection after hearing you. suddenly, he gently pushed you off his lap, grabbing his phone before shoving it in his pocket.

your eyes widened as you watched him get up from the couch. you reached out, grabbing his wrist.

"where are you going?" you asked, watching him only turn his head to the side but his eyes looked at you faintly. there was no light, just darkness and his face read a dangerous expression.

to kill.

"i'm gonna beat the absolute shit out of them and make them kneel in front of you to apologize." he bitterly spat out, words laced with venom before ripping his hand out of your grasp; not needing much force.

your heart rate quickened as you quickly followed his footsteps, not wanting him to make it out the door. you grabbed the back of his shirt, grounding your foot to hold him back.

"caleb, don't do this! you're in a high-stake program, if they find out about you doing this type of shit, you'll be kicked out! i swear i'm fine." you tried to convince him, but your words only made his anger rise.

he turned around, glaring at you.

"be quiet. you're not fine, i know you're not. so stop lying to me, 'cause i hate it when you do that. i know what's best for you and me, so don't stop me." caleb's tone dropped octaves lower, but you pushed aside your slight fear of him at this moment, caging him in your comparably smaller arms to hold him hostage.

"i won't let you go." you shake your head, holding him tight. you heard him let out a heavy sigh, as his shoulder slumped. you closed your eyes in relief, thinking that you were able to avoid the worst possible situation.

"you really don't like it when i'm a nice guy, huh?" caleb chuckled darkly, making your eyes widen. suddenly, he lifted you up in his arms and began walking upstairs.

fuck.

"wait, caleb!" you squirmed in his hold, but his grip around you remained stern.

"y'know i don't like it when you butt into things you shouldn't, pipsqueak." he walked up the second flight of stairs that led to the attic. after opening the door, he pushed you inside and quickly closed the door, locking it.

"caleb, what the hell?! let me out! you can't fuckin' do this to me, we're not kids anymore! ugh, let me out!" you banged and kicked on the door, but he wouldn't budge.

soon enough, his footsteps were getting distant.

"caleb? caleb!!"

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

a week has passed since that incident. you were pretty pissed at him when he finally returned and unlocked you from your confinement, ready to pounce on him, yell and slap him.

but all that fury dissipated once you saw his bruised knuckles and disheveled state. caleb wasn't insensitive and to save you the trauma of witnessing three bloodied guys kneeling to you on the floor, he recorded their voices which dripped with pain and remorse as apologies flew out of their mouths like a mantra.

the smile plastered on his face was almost deranged and crazy, but yet without a fail it made your heart leap in your throat.

"so you wear skirts and smell like peaches. so what? that doesn't make you less than anyone else. if anything, it's one of the things i love about you. they can call you whatever they want. i know who you are, and that's all that matters."

his words rang loud and clear in your ears every time you remembered them. you can vividly imagine his eyes, the tenderness they held while his voice softly cured the aches in your heart.

"hey pips, gonna do laundry now. anything else you need for me to throw in?" caleb peeps in his head through the small crack of your door, chocolatey brown locks coming into view. you ushered him to come inside, to which he obeyed.

there you saw him, in all this handsome glory. you pondered quickly, how did he change so quickly?

in the back of your mind, you could still picture caleb to be a scrawny little kid with a high pitched voice; playing as the dragon while you were the princess trying to run away from him in the sandbox.

and then came high school when he got his first job as a restocker at the local grocery store, being required to lift heavy things, so he began to frequently workout at the gym and at home too; insisting that you could be of help by sitting on his back while he did push-ups.

the scrawny squeaky caleb would then transform into a tall, handsome and broad young man. he carried you in his big, beefy arms in the summer heat; one hand full with gorcery bags while the other held you as you sipped on the overpriced fake pink lemonade the girls scouts were selling—letting him take a few sips from your straw to compensate.

and now here he stood in your room, shirtless and only in a pair of calvin klein boxers; the tag necklace attached with the apple charm hanging on his neck.

"hm, nope. everything should be in my basket. thanks caleb." you smiled with gratitude, pointing to the lavander laundry basket by your door.

"mhm, don't mention it." he hummed before bending down to grab your basket.

caleb made his way down to the basement where the washing machine was. he remembered how you always nagged at him for throwing your clothes with his, how the rough material of his clothes ruined the cute lacey frills of yours.

he rolled his eyes as he could mentally hear your voice whining at him. so, to save him the trouble, he decided to wash his clothes last. caleb began to throw your clothes in, only to find the deep crimson pair of panties that he loved so much in the pile, peeking and tempting him.

the brunette groaned, fingers playing with the soft red laces that decorated the edge of your panties. his imagination ran wild, picturing you in nothing but the thin fabric of the panties that were now crumpled in his large hands.

it was sick and perverted... he knows that it was wrong to do so.

but he couldn't help himself—holding your panties to his nose, the part where your pussy would've been hugged with, taking a deep inhale. his eyes rolled back, whimpering as he could smell the musky scent of your cunt, his mouth salivating as he could only wish to be able to taste your sweet pussy.

blood rushed down to his cock, making him painfully hard. caleb groaned, tugging the waistband of his boxers down as his dick sprung back to hit his abs.

he grabbed another pair of your dirty panties, this one being a soft blue, and wrapped it around his cock. caleb's mouth gaped open, moaning as he began to stroke his dick, feeling the fabric of your panties rub against his sensitive skin.

"hnghh... fuck, you smell so good, princess." caleb quietly moaned, the hand gasping your panties tightening as he sniffed your panties while shamelessly jerking himself off.

he bit down on his lips, increasing the pace of his hands as beads of precum trickled down his swollen mushroom tip. the vein that ran on the underside of his cock throbbed with adrenaline, making his knees almost buck.

caleb could imagine how your soft pussy was hidden in these same pair of panties, your cute little clit peeking out of your sopping wet folds. did you ever touch yourself through these panties of yours? who do you think about when you touch yourself? was it him?

god, all these questions only made his balls twitch as he could feel himself grow closer to his orgasm.

"ahhh- shit, please, y/n. need to taste you so bad, h-hahh.." he whimpered, tongue lolling out as he began to suck on your panties desperately while trying to chase his high.

with a few more pumps, caleb's cock began to spurt out white, thick wads of hot, sticky cum onto your blue panties. his chest heaved, trying to catch his breath as post-nut clarity was hitting him.

his face rushed with a red tint, embarrassed but not enough to stop. after all, this wasn't his first time.

"hey caleb, have you seen my pink panties? i checked everywhere but couldn't find them. were they in the basket yesterday when you did the laundry? i could've sworn i placed them there."

"nope, didn't see them, pipsqueak. maybe you left them in your locker or somethin'. don't worry, if you need more i could always take you shopping."

caleb had all your bras and panties memorized just like how he memorized the different functions and buttons of aircrafts. he begrudgingly allowed you to pull him into victoria's secret to go shopping for new cute sets, wanting his opinions and of course, needing his card as well.

of course, he didn't mind buying them for you! after all, he'd pluck a pair from your weekly laundry every time and use it to fuck his fist or even keep for himself if he really liked that pair. so, it was only fair to buy you more to compensate.

"yeah, definitely keeping this one." caleb grunts before throwing the crimson red panties in his basket.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the spring semester was coming to an end, meaning that caleb would soon graduate. you were so excited to attend his graduation, having your dress readily hung in your closet, noting down on your ipad what kind of flowers you wanted to include in the massive bouquet you were planning to welcome him with and of course—

his gift.

caleb always gave a dog kind of guy, so you were thinking of getting a puppy for him. but, of course, things change like always and you still had another few weeks to plan.

the only problem was that getting a hold of caleb nowadays became extremely hard, which might sound weird considering the fact that you two literally live together in the same house.

but it's true.

for the last few weeks, caleb's been buried in books and drowning himself in the strongest concoction of what you could only make out as coffee and redbull. he's been on his grind to study for the final exam, which would determine if he got in the DAA or not. of course, the semester long project, which he worked on with ___ was at its finishing polishes. everything in life was hitting him all at once, college, work and other shit; so catching a glimpse of him was like being able to catch a shooting star.

slim chance.

but of course, you didn't want to bother him and you were proud of him for working so hard towards his dreams. so, naturally, you expected him to crash into your bed and cuddle with you after taking the exam—newsflash: you were wrong.

though caleb was nerdy, he was very popular on campus. all the girls wanted a piece of him because he was everything a girl could ever dream of. he's smart, caring, domestic and he's sexy as fuck.

all the guys wanted to be his friends and naturally caleb ended up being invited to a bunch of senior frat parties as the soon-to-be graduates celebrated their achievements. so, you'd only see caleb in the mornings where he's drunk and passed out on the couch or you wouldn't see him at all because he crashed at his friend’s place.

it was late one evening, you stirred in your bed as you woke up from your nap. you tapped your phone screen and saw that it was almost eight. you sat up, the shoulder strap of your nightgown falling off your shoulder, making you groan in annoyance as you fixed it.

feeling parched, you got off your bed and slipped on your house slippers to head down to the kitchen and fix yourself an ice cold glass of water. your ears perked up upon the hearing of deep laughter echoing in the living room, well, multiple voices were voicing these laughs.

as you went down the the stairs, your eyes fell on caleb who was leisurely lounging on the couch with a game controller in his hand, surrounded by three other guys; who you assumed were his new friends or rather frat buddies since he beat his last ones to pulp for you.

"caleb?" you called out, making him stop mid-sentence as he looked up and noticed your familiar figure approaching him.

"oh, pipsqueak, you're home? i didn't even know." caleb chuckled, pausing his game, the sudden acknowledgment of your presence made the other three heads turn to look at you.

"uh, yeah... i was napping." you replied, feeling a little exposed as you didn't know he'd have his friends over and you were still in casual home-wear. you could feel his friends roaming their eyes all over your exposed arms and legs, making you shift uncomfortably.

"woah, didn't know you had such a hot sister, dude." one of them finally spoke up, letting out a low wolf-whistle.

caleb's jaw tightened at that, making him shoot the guy a glare.

"watch your mouth, don't say shit like that to her. and we're not related, we just grew up together." he clarified, nose flaring with irritation.

another one of his friends rolled his eyes, dismissing his words.

"yeah, yeah, same shit. so, sister-not-sister of caleb's, you got a boyfriend?" the guy asked, making your cheeks heat up at the question as you cleared your throat.

"n-no." you stammered, playing with the hem of your nightgown. he stood up, walking over to you with a grin as he took your phone.

"let me give you my number then. let's get to know each other and i'll take you on a nice date, darling." he purred, a hand coming up to touch your arm; only for a vice grip to stop the dirtying hand from laying a finger on you.

"i swear i'll kill you." caleb's violet orbs bored holes in his friend's skull, possessively pushing you behind him. his friend scoffed, ripping his hand away from the tight grip.

"chill, dude. you're acting like i was asking her to fuck me." he joked, but caleb's face contorted into a scowl.

"say one more fuckin' word and i swear on everything i'll beat the shit out of you. you're really pissing me off." caleb swore under his breath, his other friend that was calmly watching everything unfold decided to intervene.

"okay, okay, everyone relax. we should head home, it's getting late. uh, caleb, i'll text you the address for the party being held this weekend—don't miss it, man! oh, also, let me invite your... er, friend, in case she wants to attend." the other guy spoke up, glancing at you. but, before you could even get a word in—

"she won't be coming." caleb strictly answered for you, making your eyebrows furrow.

"caleb!" you frowned, only for him to shoot a glare down at you. his friend thinned his lips, deciding not to push further.

"alright then. see you later, man." caleb's friends finally packed their stuff and left.

you angrily shoved caleb onto the couch, towering over him to have some kind of intimidation factor towards you; but of course, you were nothing compared to a six-foot something muscle pig like him.

nonetheless, he let you.

you crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. however, caleb was more focused on how your tits were now squished because of your arms; granting him the sight of the beautiful soft curves of the supple flesh. he licked his dry lips, imagining how they'd feel in his hands. you failed to noticed his ogling from how pissed you were, preparing to lash out at him.

"why can't i go to the party? you're gonna be there, so i don't see what's the issue." you huffed out.

"it's a frat party, pipsqueak. they're not meant for you." he dismissed your frustration like it was nothing, but his answer only riled you up more.

"the hell you mean?! i'm an adult, you think i can't handle a fuckin' frat party? i'm gonna go, whether you like it or not." you stubbornly fought back with equal amounts of venom in your words.

"like hell you would, i'd like to see you try. those parties are full of drunk guys dancing on girls who shake ass for some temporary validation, the house reeks of alcohol and sex. you're none of that! you never even drank in your life or had your first kiss." caleb lectured, his eyes were stern and unwavering, not harboring any leeway to be convinced otherwise by you.

"t-that's not true!" you helplessly tried to lie, but of course, it didn't fly by him. he let out a heavy sigh before planting his hands on your hips, pulling you closer between his legs.

"listen, pips. y'know i care a lot about you, right? you saw how those guys were just a few minutes back. it took every inch of self-control i had to not just plummet my fist in his face. i don't want those sick perverts to look at you like you're a piece of meat. you're more safer home than anywhere else, if you wanna drink and party so bad, a two person party right here sounds like a pretty solid idea." he looks up at you with a gentle smile etched onto his lips, offering such a lame idea, making you scoff as you shove his hands away.

"it's always what you want, never what i want! ugh, you're so fucking annoying, caleb! i don't wanna stay as some boring loser forever and you're making it worse." you seethed with anger and fury, making his smile drop as his face darkened at your words.

"i know what's best for you, y/n. you are not going to that party and that's final. don't make me lock you up in the attic again, 'cause i will if i have to." caleb threatened, making you scoff in disbelief.

"unbelievable." you shook your head, your mouth opened once more to give him a piece of your mind; but the doorbell rang.

you groaned in annoyance, trudging to the front door as you wondered who the hell showed up to your place this late. you opened the door and you were shocked to see the girl in caleb's mechanics class.

"ah, sorry! is caleb home? i texted him earlier but it seems like he didn't see it." ___ nervously laughed, her sudden appearence made your eye twitch.

"why." you blurted out, no hint of welcome in your voice.

after noticing your longer-than-usual time away, caleb decided to check who was at the door. his eyes widened when he saw ___ outside.

"oh shit, i'm so sorry. i just saw your text, i had some friends over earlier, so i didn't get a chance to see it. i didn't know you wanted to do the finishing touches tonight." caleb rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty smile plastered on his face, but the girl quickly dismissed his apologies.

"no, no, don't worry! if you want, we could still finish it up tonight. it shouldn't take long." she offered him a smile, making your dig your nails in your palms to contain yourself from clawing at her.

"you sure? it's pretty late." his eyes were washed with concern, making you want to puke at how he... cared for her.

"yeah, totally! i'll wait for you here." she assured him, making caleb quickly nod as he ran up to his room to change.

the atmosphere suddenly became awkward, with you throwing discreet daggers at the girl while she played footsies with herself.

"so... i heard you both decided to make a 3D-solar airplane model. that's pretty complex." you chimed in a small conversation starter, your sudden voice made her jolt.

"yep, the idea was mine but caleb's the main head behind the mechanics. the guy is so damn smart, really! it's honestly been so fun working with him, he's so reliable." she gawked at him, making you clench your jaw.

"i see, you must really be fond of him, huh?" you shot her a fake smile, but your words made her let out a small giggle.

"we're just friends, he's a great guy though, which i'm sure you know." she smiles.

"uh-huh... so, you got a boyfriend?" you pried deeper, wanting to know what exactly her motives were.

"nope, single as a pringle." she answered, the cringey joke nearly made you vomit a bit in your mouth.

an awkward silence falls between you, and the girl seems to sense the tension. she fidgets, glancing back and forth between you and the staircase.

"you two seemed to have gotten pretty close over the course of this... project." you emphasized as your eyes darkened, making her clear her throat.

"oh, yeah, definitely! we do a bunch of things after working on our model. we've been working on the project, of course, but we also watch movies, cook together, and just chat about random stuff. it's been pretty fun!" the girl seems oblivious to the shift in your demeanor, and continues to chat cheerfully.

"c-cook together?!" you choked on your words, eyes going wide.

"yeah! he makes the best omurice, like it's seriously delicious. he's really talented in the kitchen." the girl nods, her expression enthusiastic.

your heart sinks at her words. cooking has always been your thing with caleb, something special and intimate between you two. hearing that he has cooked for someone else, and that she raves about his skills, feels like a knife twisting in your chest.

the girl chatters on, but her words fade into background noise as your mind races. the jealousy and insecurity welling up inside you is almost too much to bear.

"you seem very... doted on him. do you like him?" your throat went dry as you asked the big question, heart hammering against your chest.

the girl pauses, her expression softening as she smiles bashfully.

"well, i mean... yeah, i do kinda like him. i've had a bit of a crush on him for a while, to be honest. he's just so nice and handsome, plus he's really smart and talented, too." she continued to shower him in compliments, eyes dreamily glancing in the distance as she spewed out her thoughts.

before you could interrogate further, you could hear caleb's heavy footsteps descending down the stairs, making you zip your lips.

"okay, reporting for duty. let's go and finish that sucker real quick." caleb announced, making the girl laugh at his silly words; but for some odd reason his stupid joke now tasted bitter in your mouth.

you were quiet, too quiet; which was loud enough for him to notice. caleb walked towards you, ruffling your hair.

"gonna be back in a few, pips. don't miss me too much." he teases with a smile, yet you give nothing back to him; watching him leave with her before closing the door behind him.

later that night, out of pure spite, you decided that it was time for a change. you were angry at that stupid show-offing bitch, caleb, yourself and the whole world itself.

who the hell was praying on your downfall?

whatever, you were tired of all this bullshit, feeling your frontal lobe developing. you surfed the internet for a recipe to follow and began to cook.

it can't be that hard, can it?

god, were you so wrong.

caleb pauses in the kitchen doorway, taking in the sight of you in the kitchen, your phone on the counter next to a messy array of ingredients. concern etched across his face as he looks at the mess.

"hey... what are you doing, pips?" he asks.

"making myself food." you stated the obvious, rolling your eyes at his stupid question.

"and that involves making the kitchen look like a war zone?" he quirks an eyebrow, his eyes flickering from you to the ingredients strewn across the counter.

"shut up." you grumble, already overstimulated by your mess and the fact that what you were currently stirring in your pot looked like someone just took a massive shit in it.

you could fear your hunger slowly disappearing.

"wow, someone's feisty tonight." caleb takes a step closer, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. he can tell you're in a bad mood, and he's not surprised by your snappish response.

you ignore him, trying to focus on how you can fix your dinner.

he leans back against the counter, watching you with growing curiosity. something tells him that this is more than just a bad mood, that something else is bothering you.

"okay, spill it. what's going on? you've been ignoring me since i got home, and now you're trying to burn the kitchen down with whatever the hell you're making." his tone grew impatient, giving you a sharp look.

"you think my world revolves around you? well, newsflash, asshole—it doesn't! now shut the fuck up 'cause you're pissing me off and my food is gonna burn." you angrily spat back, crashing out completely as you just wanted him to leave you alone.

"excuse me? i'm literally just trying to talk to you, and this is the response i get? and what exactly is this 'food' you're trying to make anyway? it looks like a science experiment gone wrong." he's taken aback by your harsh tone, but he doesn't back down. his eyes darken, his own temper rising.

"it's the curry for omurice, it's just not done yet!" you defended your culinary work.

"puhlease, i doubt you'll make anything edible at this rate, that curry's been done. you barely know how to boil water, let alone make a proper omurice." caleb snickers, he knows all too well that you're not exactly a natural in the kitchen.

"i can boil water, you fucking jerk!" you snapped, spoon dropping out of your hand as you panicked and tried to grab it, only for your hand to hit the scorching hot metal of the pot.

"fuck." you yelped in pain.

"damn it, y/n. you just burned yourself! let me see your hand." his expression immediately shifts to alarm, and without a second thought he rushes to your side.

you shimmy away from him, as if he had infectious cooties or something, making him frown. caleb felt you push him away, seeing you wince in pain made his heart ache, but he was annoyed with how you were acting-

like a fucking child.

"i'm fine." you breathed out, turning on the sink to run your hand under some cold water, biting your lip to hold back a scream itching to rip out of your throat.

"for fucks sake, would you just let me see? you're being ridiculous." caleb grabbed your hand gently, lifting it to inspect the burn. it's not too serious, but it still looked painful.

"let go of me!" you grit your teeth, pulling away your hand.

"god, you're so damn stubborn. why won't you just let me help you? what is your problem?" he reluctantly lets go, but his irritation and concern continued to grow at your behavior.

"i don't need your help! i don't need your concern! i don't need your stupid cooking! i don't need your money! i don't need you, caleb!" you bellowed, eyes full of anguish as you watched his jaw drop at your outburst.

he's stunned by your words, his heart clenching at the venom in your voice. he'd been worried this was about him, but hearing the harsh words coming from your lips still feels like a punch to the gut.

"what the hell is that supposed to mean? you don't need me? after all this time?" he let's out a bitter laugh in disbelief, shaking his head.

"so, that's it? after everything we've been through, everything i've done for you... you don't need me, huh? is that what you're saying? am i just some useless piece of trash to you?" he paces the kitchen, his hands running through his hair in frustration. he's angry, hurt, and confused all at once.

"you know what, since you spelled it out so perfectly, yeah. after how you toyed around with me and threw me away like nothing, hell fucking yeah!" you yelled at him, balling your fists to the side to ground your feelings, to dig your nails in your palms for some kind of twisted comfort to prevent the tears in your eyes from pouring out.

"is that what you think? you think i discarded you like some toy? god, if anything, it's been the opposite. i've been doing everything i can to support you, to make you happy. and this is the thanks i get? you're acting like a prissy, spoiled, ungrateful brat!" he stops in his tracks, staring at you in disbelief.

"the fuck did you just call me?" you voice was shaky, but your eyes flickered with hurt and fury.

"you heard me. you're acting like a damn brat! you're throwing a tantrum because i'm trying to help you. because i care about you! because i love you!" caleb steps closer, his gaze hardening. he's sick of your attitude, sick of your ungratefulness.

"spare me the bullshit, caleb. now i know how you really feel about me, and i was really fucking dumb to believe you. tch, you're just like everyone else." you scoffed, heart cracking with every advancement of this pitiful and painful conversation that you'd never imagine would come to existence.

"like everyone else? what the hell is that supposed to mean? you think i'm some sort of heartless monster just because i'm busy with getting my life together? because i have responsibilities? do you have any idea the stress i've been under lately? you've been acting as if the world revolves around you!" he was beyond pissed at this point, tone rising with every word.

"oh yeah? but you're not busy enough to make that bitch omurice at her place? not busy enough to watch movies with her? not busy enough to spend time with her while i'm home alone waiting for you, fucking asshole?!" you screamed at his face, your head throbbing as a painful migraine brewed inside.

his eyes widen in surprise, and for a brief moment, he's speechless. it all makes sense now.

"is that what this is about? seriously, y/n, are you hearing yourself? after the countless amount of times i explicitly told you that me and her have nothing between us! that i don't give two fucks about her! are you that jealous?" he crosses his arms over his chest, unable to fathom the situation.

all because of something so stupid.

"jealous? don't be delusional. go fuck her for all i care. i'm not your girlfriend or wife." you snarled.

"you're trying to push me away because of some petty jealousy? are you seriously that insecure?" he's furious now, his eyes blazing with anger. he steps closer, crowding your personal space.

"yeah, i am. so fucking leave me alone, bitch." you swallowed harshly, emphasizing the last word before walking out of the kitchen.

you halted your steps, turning your head to the side.

"i'll clean the kitchen later, i'm gonna order takeout. don't worry, i removed your card from my phone, i work now." you cleared your throat.

you've been working for the past month actually, but you never had the chance to even tell him about it because he's barely home.

"you got a job? why didn't you tell me? and why did you need to delete my card? i don't mind taking care of you, y'know that." caleb feels his anger start to cool, replaced by disbelief and hurt.

you no longer felt like you could stay a minute more in the kitchen, already feeling the waterworks activate in your eyes, ignoring his words as you stormed out of the kitchen to head up to your room.

he stands there, staring after you, feeling helpless and frustrated. he wants to follow you, to talk some sense into you, but he knows you need time to cool off. he lets out a deep sigh, leaning back against the counter as a heavy weight settles in his chest.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the week passes by slowly, the tension palpable between you two. caleb tried to talk to you, to bridge the gap, but you're still stubbornly ignoring him. his heart hurts with every failed attempt, the distance between you feeling greater than ever.

he's on the edge, his mind constantly wandering to you. caleb misses you, he misses just being able to look at you and talk to you.

it was a friday night and you just got back from your closing shift, exhuasted as you plopped down on the couch. you still had a few assignments left to do, which were unfortunately due tonight.

an hour later, caleb enters the house, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion as well. his eyes immediately fall on you, sitting on the couch, head bent over a book.

"hey... how was work?" caleb asked softly, approaching you cautiously.

you ignored him, continuing to scribble notes in your notebook.

"pipsqueak, come on. i'm trying here. can't you at least look at me?" he groaned, frowning at your lack of response, but doesn't give up.

however, you continue to mind your own business, not paying him any mind.

"y'know, this silent treatment is getting old real fast. we need to talk." he lets out a frustrated sigh, crossing his arms.

he takes a seat on the chair across from the couch. he can see the tension in your body, the way you refuse to acknowledge him. it's driving him crazy.

"how long are you going to keep acting like a petulant child? you can't just ignore me forever." caleb scoffed, glaring at you.

he watched you scribble something on a blank sheet of notebook paper before tearing it out, crumpling and throwing it right at his face; before it fell on his lap.

"thanks." he sarcastically grumbled, unraveling the crumpled ball before reading what you wrote.

i'll try to.

his jaw tightened at your stubbornness. you got up from your seat, heading to the staircase to go up to your room. he's stunned speechless for a moment, staring at the crumpled paper. a wave of anger and hurt washes over him. he stands up, following after you.

enough is enough.

"you can't be serious. you're just going to shut me out like i'm nothing to you? y/n!" he catches up to you, grabbing your arm lightly to stop you from entering your room.

"let go, caleb." you spoke through gritted teeth.

he hesitates for a moment, his grip on your arm loosen slightly. he can see the pain in your eyes, the wall you've put up between you. it hurts him more than any physical pain he's ever felt.

you snatched away your arm before opening the door to your bedroom, slamming it shut right in his face.

caleb's shoulders slump, a frustrated sigh leaving his chapped lips as his fist rests on your door, not having the strength to knock and fight any further. initially he was planning to cancel the invite to the frat party taking place tonight, but after the constant failures of trying to mend his friendship with you, he needed to blow off some steam.

so, with a resigned look, he left your door and headed into his room to shower and get ready. as you heard his footsteps slowly disappearing, you slid down the door as your knees gave out, burying your face in your hands as you cried.

you've never felt this distraught in your life and you couldn't help but blame yourself. of course, it was always you who created trouble and chaos.

caleb was never obligated to be yours, you had no rights to snap at him for choosing someone else over you.

he's not yours.

but, god did it hurt whenever you remembered that. you wanted him to be yours so bad, it was suffocating. you wanted him to only think about you, laugh with you, spend every moment of this fucked up life... just with you.

you know it was wrong to think of him like this, after all, caleb's your best friend; the closest person you have left to call family.

these feelings that you tried so hard to bury years ago keep haunting you and come back stronger. it scares you because even after ruining so many things, you don't want to say something stupid and destroy everything you've built up till now.

just by saying those three words that you always say to him... but now with different meanings.

after a while, you heard caleb's bedroom door open before closing as you could hear his heavy footstep descending down the stairs. you suddenly remembered that today was the night of the frat party, so he was leaving to attend.

you fished out your phone from your purse, ringing your friend's facetime as you patiently waited for her to pick up.

"hey girl, why the sad face?" your friend on the other line asked, face washed with concern, noticing your tear-streaked face and puffy eyes.

"caleb." was the only thing you could mutter out before your lips quivered, eyes welling with tears again.

"oh sweetie, him again? ya gotta be stronger than that, y/n. we can't let these stupid boys dictate our lives, y'know? did you hear about the big senior frat going on tonight?" she asked, making you sigh.

"yeah, caleb just left a few minutes ago to attend. i was invited too, but caleb strictly told me no." you frowned as you recalled the memory. your friend scoffed, rolling her eyes as she heard your words.

"girl, fuck that asshole. you're a grown ass woman, you can go to a damn frat if you wanna. tell you what, the party's just beginning and the night is still young. how about i pick you up and we both go?" she suggested, a playful grin dancing on her lips.

your eyes widened, the thought of rebelling against caleb's words struck a little nerve in you, but you couldn't ignore the rush of adrenaline weirdly surging in you.

this would be your first time going against his words.

this was the proof of your change that you didn't need him to make all the decisions for you.

he didn't know you better than yourself.

fuck caleb, you can handle a damn frat party!

"okay, give me an hour." you smiled, making your friend giggle as she nodded in agreement and you both hung up a few seconds later.

that being said, you hopped in the shower to wash off all of today's sweat and gunk from working hard; leaving the bathroom smelling sweet and peachy.

you dug into your closet, reaching for your usual style of clothes; a skirt and a simple blouse. but, your hand stopped midway from pulling them out.

you remembered how people called you a ditzy bimbo, making fun of your skirts and cute blouses. they poked fun at you for wearing bows in your hair.

and caleb thinks that you're not the type that's meant to attend these frat parties.

a wave of anger washed over you, angrily jumbling that skirt and blouse back into your closet.

instead, you decided to take a more... risque option.

you pulled out a pair of low-rise deniem shorts that were definitely too short, keeping them unbuttoned as the black lace of your panties peaked out. for your top, you opted for a cropped cheetah print backless halter top that had a deep v-neck; the matching tag necklace you and caleb had hung right above your sternum.

you skipped your usual soft makeup, opting for a more simple yet alluring look; accentuating your features. without a second thought, you threw the bow on your dresser behind your back as it landed on your bed, you didn't need it tonight. you sprayed on some perfume and then slipped on a pair of black heels.

shortly after some last minute finishing touches, your friend came to pick you up.

"is this... the same y/n i talked to an hour ago. sweetie, you look sexy." she gawked at you, watching you giggle as you hopped into the passanger seat next to her.

"frat approved?" you asked cheekily, making your friend smirk.

"without a doubt."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

you pushed the unlocked front door open, immediately being welcomed with the deafening volume of music blaring into your ears. it was dark, flashes of neon lights were making your eyes trip as you walked inside. the foul scent of alcohol hit your nose, making your stomach churn as you could vividly remember begging caleb to change your route home when you both walked home from high school; just to avoid passing by the bar.

you lost sight of your friend, now being pushed amongst the crowd of drunk college graduates dancing and slurring the song lyrics. you swallowed harshly, trying to find a pocket to escape the dance floor; only to have your arm be pulled back.

your eyes widened as a gasp left your lips, turning around to see that it was one of caleb's friends; the guy who offered you his number.

"i see you didn't listen to your big bro caleb, huh? oooo~, he's gonna be mad when he finds out his sweet, innocent little girl is here, darling." obviously drunk, the guy snickered. you grimaced, shoving his hand away as you backed up, trying to create some distance.

"you think caleb's words are set in stone? i don't give two fucks about him, i'm my own person." you glared at the guy, words spitting out venom.

the guy's eyes glinted with amusement.

"oh? so the kitten finally found her voice. let me treat you to a drink to congratulate you." he smirked, pushing the red cup containing god knows what, towards you.

"i'm not drinkin' that shit, you could've spiked it." you scoffed, crossing your arms.

"guess you're not that brainless after all, darling. see ya around." the guy chuckled, shrugging before taking a sip of the drink instead, walking away.

you grumbled under your breath, already feeling like you stuck out like a sore thumb. you made your way to the table where all the liquor was spread out, deciding to make yourself one instead. you weren't dumb enough to accept a drink from just anyone.

after successfully (kinda) making a cup of some sort of concoction, your brought the rim of the red cup up to your glossy lips; the smell of the mixed liquor contents already making you wanna gag.

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes before taking a few big gulps of your drink. your throat burned, stomach threatening to retch as you could feel bile rush up your esophagus. your eyes screwed shut, trying to keep everything inside as you breathed heavily.

"eugh..." your body shivered.

you tried to take a few more sips, but you could see your body clearly rejecting it. so, you called quits, deciding to throw it away.

you walked towards the kitchen, sighing in defeat, concluding that maybe you really weren't meant for a life like this.

caleb was right.

your eyes were trained to the floor, not realizing who was in front of you as you bumped into someone's hard, muscular back.

"ow... sorry." you quickly apologized, but your eyes would soon widen in horror as your jaw dropped when the person turned around.

"the hell are you doin' here, y/n?" violet eyes pierced into you, caleb's taller frame towering over you as his voice was gravely.

"fuck.." you gulped, hand unknowingly squeezing at the plastic cup in your hand, making it creak.

his eyes dropped to your hands, eyebrows pinching in both irritation and concern. caleb snatched the cup out of your grasp, bringing it to his nose to take a few sniffs.

"are you fucking serious right now? who gave this to you? how much did you drink?" caleb bombarded you with questions, seething with anger, making your heart pound in your chest.

"none of your business, now give it back!" you used whatever remaining bits of courage you had in yourself to retort back to his interrogation; hands reaching for your cup, only to have him dodge your advances.

"god, are you that dumb, y/n? you never drank in your life and i'm asking you about what the hell you just put in your body! and the hell are you wearing?! i can see your fuckin' panties!" caleb's eyes darkened, speaking through gritted teeth as he stepped closer; amethyst eyes roamed all over your figure, making your knees turn into jelly.

"so? it's not like i'm walking around naked. also, i made that drink, so it's not spiked or somethin'." you huffed out, crossing your arms over your chest.

"yeah, no. we're going home." caleb scoffed, throwing your cup in the garbage before grabbing your wrist, about to drag you out of the kitchen; but you planted your heels firmly on the ground, tugging your hand back.

"no. if you wanna go home, then go by yourself. i came with my friend and i'm not leaving her, besides, the party just started." you shot him a sharp glare, your voice holding a slight tremble but you remained firm. caleb's face fell, looking at you with disbelief and exasperation.

"fuck your friend, we're going home. NOW." he sternly dismissed your words, bending down before wrapping his arm around your waist; swiftly lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"caleb, put me down! you can't do this!" you kick your feet in the air, but he remains unfazed, walking through the sea of people and towards the door.

"oh yeah i can, watch me. you're in a shit ton of trouble, pipsqueak. just wait till we get home."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the ride home was silent and as soon as caleb's car stopped in front of your house, you angrily got out and unlocked the door; not wanting to spend a second more with him as he parked.

you kicked off your heels and ran upstairs to your room, slamming the door shut as you sat on your bed. not shortly after, caleb barged into your room, furious.

"the hell were you thinking?! you like pissing me off? i told you to stay home, didn't i?!" caleb yelled at you, making your blood boil.

"who the fuck do you think you are? we're not even actual family, stop trying act like you're my brother or somethin'! you don't get to tell me what to do!" you yelled back, grabbing your pillow before throwing it at him, trying to relieve your pent-up anger somehow.

however, caleb swiftly dodged your attack, walking closer to the edge of your bed where you were seated.

"repeat that, i dare you, fuckin' brat. who am i? i'm the one who's been dealing with your shit for all these years, giving you everything that you could possibly want; loving and caring for you. while you... while you drive me to the brink of insanity." his voice trembles, a shaky exhale leaving his throat as he reaches out to grab your chin; lifting your head up to force your eyes to meet his.

his gaze hardened when he saw the resentment in your eyes, but he knew that deep down you were trying to conceal yourself, to appear strong against him. caleb knew you like the back of his hand, you were throwing one of your tantrums again.

but, that's okay. if you wanted to be a brat, he has no other choice but to tame you.

caleb gently pushed your head backwards, making you fall back onto the bed. his larger frame hovered above your body, caging you between his arms as his necklace dangled above you. from this angle, you couldn't help but feel so... small and weak.

just like helpless prey.

you should be pushing him off, slapping him and cursing his entire existence. but, fuck... why did the familiar heat in your stomach begin to settle as your eyes shamelessly drank in the sight of his beefy bare biceps pining you below him. caleb's scent was surrounding you, the mix of apple cinnamon and cologne intoxicated your senses; making you wonder if it intensified because of the pheremones in the air.

whatever the fuck it was, you felt insanely horny.

"i was never like a brother to you, y/n. can't you see how badly i want you? how desperately my body craves for yours? are you that dense? i fuck my fist every night to the thought of you, how the fuck can i see you as family?" he speaks in a husky voice, body pressing down as you could feel the hard tent between his legs rub against the soft skin of your thighs.

"c-caleb.." you meekly call out to him, making him snap a look at you.

"what." he spat out, making the words die on your tongue as you zipped your lips.

caleb scoffed, leaning his head down to the crook of your neck, pressing soft kissing upwards to your jaw. you shuddered at the sudden feeling of his lips on your skin, making your breath hitch.

"since when did you wear shit like this, hm? you like flaunting this pretty ass of yours? showing off these cute tits?" caleb's voice was dire, his hand creeping under your shirt, caressing your sides.

"n-no.." you reply, feeling the bridge of his nose nuzzle in the crook of your neck; pressing open mouth kisses on your skin as you squirmed below him.

"then why'd you wear it? y'know i hate it when other guys look at you, when they go for what's mine." he sneered, tone possessive as he pulled away, looking at you with sharp eyes.

"wanted your attention... i-i wanted you to notice me." you stammered, hands reaching forwards to cup his face as you gazed into his violet eyes. he froze, admiring how beautiful you looked beneath him; it felt like he was dreaming.

"yeah? well, you got it." and without another word, he crashed his lips onto yours; pulling you into a searing kiss.

the kiss was needy, touch-starved and hungry. caleb moaned into your mouth, tongue licking at your bottom lip to beg for permission. a whimper flew out of your mouth as you felt his hips grind down between your legs, right on your clothed cunt as the friction of his hard cock felt so so good.

caleb took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, intertwining with your wet muscle as he suckled on it. he drank in your whimpers and moans, tasting every inch of your mouth. drool began to trickle down the corner of your mouth, the kiss being super messy as it was full of salive and teeth clashing. you never expected your first kiss to be this intense.

you used your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as you needed to feel him, smell him and just consume him whole.

it wasn't enough.

"please, caleb... i-i feel so h-hot. i need you now." you pleaded with a sultry voice and it took every single fiber of self-control within caleb's whole existence to just not blow his load in his pants.

"yeah? you need a lot of things from me, don't ya?" caleb snickers, pulling back as he now sat on your bed, shortly before tugging you towards him. now you were situated between his legs, back pressed against his warm chest.

"i-i'm sorry, caleb!" you breathed out an apology, but your futile attempt only amused him as he smirked.

"no, no, no. that's not gonna work on me tonight, pretty girl. you used up all your chances for forgiveness. and as for if you’ll get more… well that depends on how you behave." caleb whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss on the shell of your ear before giving it a playful bite.

"i'll behave, promise." you pouted, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him with bambi eyes, long mascara lashes batting.

caleb looked down at you with a calculated gaze, searching your eyes for any sign of truthfulness. he hums, his fingers tracing over your skin, their path slow and steady. there's a hint of tension in his body as he speaks, his voice rough and quiet.

"after that little stunt you pulled on me, i have a hard time believing you, pips. i think i need to teach you how to be more... appreciative and obedient, no?" his long, thick fingers squished your soft cheeks together; firmly holding you in place before pressing a hard smooch on your pouted lips that were now swollen from the previous sucking and biting.

caleb's other hand wandered south, cupping one of your perky tits as he fondled the supple fat through your barely-covering top. you moaned into his mouth, feeling the pad of his thumb brush against your pebbled nipple.

you could feel his lips curl from how responsive and sensitive your body was from his simple actions. caleb decided to toy with you for just a bit more. taking the tip of his index finger, he circled the swollen bud, making you shudder as your eyebrows pinched together.

"hnghh... caleb.." you desperately moaned against his lips, feeling him pinch your nipple through your top; teeth sinking on your shoulder as your eyes screwed shut.

"wearing such skimpy clothes, havin' your panties showing and wearing no bra... you're bold; daring even, i'll give ya that." he spoke huskily, trailing kisses to the back of your shoulder, before guiding his lips to the expanse of your back.

a loud gasp left your lips as you felt the tip of his tongue drag up your spine. caleb continued to press open-mouth kisses afterwards, nibbling down on your shoulder blades.

his keen eyes fell on the small knot tied behind your neck, sneaky fingers coming up to pull the string as it unraveled. your eyes widened as you felt the top part of your blouse loosen, his hands grabbing it to pull it down, making your tits spill out.

"fuck... beautiful. so damn beautiful, god.." caleb groaned, whispering honeyed words in your ears as he kissed your temple. he ogled at the sight, wondering for years how your boobs looked cupped behind your bra.

he's been jerking off to the perverted thought ever since he learned how to masturbate.

his large palms wasted no time in pawing and groping at the swell of your tits, feeling the warm fatty mounds of flesh beneath his callouses. you squeezed your thighs shut, biting down on your bottom lip as you felt his index finger and thumb toy with your hardened nipples, tugging at them.

caleb craned his head forwards, hand full of tit before latching his lips on one of your nipples. a whiny mewl left your mouth, feeling his tongue circling the sensitive bud before the tip of his wet muscle flicked at it.

"ahh, caleb! feels so g-good, hmm.." you breathed out, your hand going behind his head to scratch at the bottom of his scalp.

you nuzzled your face in his neck, pressing gentle kisses at his skin and trailed them up to behind his ears; and he could hear your soft uneven breathing as he continued to suckle and bite at your tits. his chocolatey brown lock tickled your nose as he continued his ministrations.

with a lewd 'pop', he released your nipple as a string of saliva connected his lips to your bud.

"lift your hips for me, princess." caleb commanded, your brain no longer located in your head but now in your pussy as you obeyed. with a swift motion, he grabbed the waistband of your deniem shorts and pulled them off; throwing it somewhere on the floor.

he leans down and kisses the side of your neck, his teeth scraping over your skin, a small possessive noise escaping him. his fingers find the sensitive skin of your hip, his touch firm, but gentle as he cups your hip, thumb tracing over the bone there.

his hand caressed your plush thighs, making your heart beat faster as his fingers inched higher to your achy cunt. caleb noticed how you pressed your legs just a bit tighter, a murky chuckle echoed in your ear.

"ah, so the problem is here." caleb pried your legs open with ease, a hand reaching down in between to cup your needy cunt. you leaned back into him, whining as you felt him trace your slit with a lithe finger.

"stop teasin' me, caleb." you glared at him, but that only sparked a flash of amusement and irritation within him.

"think i'm gonna give you whatever you want, brat? quiet, i need to make sure my sweet girl hasn't been interested in other men except for me." his voice dropped an octave lower, now tracing the laces on your black panties before digging his hands inside.

your jaw dropped as a soft moan escaped your lips, feeling his middle and index finger spread your slick covered folds open.

"you're dripping, baby. all for me?" he asked with a teasing voice, making you nod.

"only for you." you replied, making him smile in satisfaction.

"good, you passed the first part." caleb ran his finger between your sopping lips, the tip of his finger catching your swollen clit each time. you sighed in bliss as you felt him rub your sensitive bundle of nerves as he stroked your clit at a leisurely pace.

"f-fuck, oh caleb!" you cried out his name, your hand dragging up and down his meaty bicep.

"what a cute little pussy ya got, pips. she's gotten ten times more wetter after i played with her for a bit." he whispered dirtily, but his words made you clench on nothing as it sent heat straight down south.

"you touch yourself?" caleb asked, his fingers continuing to rub your pussy while his other hand busied itself with massaging your tits.

you shamelessly nodded, but your response left him frowning as you felt a sharp impact on your wet cunt.

"c'mon, you're a big girl, no? use your words, y/n." he snarks, pinching your clit.

"y-yes!" you cried out in pleasure.

"good girl, wanna hear your voice, 'kay? who do you touch yourself to?" he continued to interrogate you, making your cheeks heat up as you felt like a mouse being caught by the big, scary cat.

"you.." you whispered.

"louder." he strictly barked, slapping your pussy again as you yelped from the pain mixed with pleasure.

"you! you, caleb!" you groaned, feeling his finger drag between your dripping folds in a painfully slow pace.

"oh? tell me more." caleb pressed on, making you huff in annoyance as you knew that this was his way of punishing you. to embarrass you after you ignored him for the whole week.

oh, he was gonna make you talk to him now.

"no, it's too embarrassing." you shook your head, making him scoff.

"you don't wanna talk? fine, i guess i'll just leave." he suddenly threatened, hands attempting to pull away from your pussy, but you were quick to grab his wrist and clamp your thighs shut; locking his hand in place.

"no! fine, fine, i'll tell you! ughhh.." you grumbled, bracing yourself to let go every bit of dignity you had inside you.

"mhm, go on. i'm listening." caleb smiled at your compliance, fingers resuming their work on rubbing circles on your clit to stimulate the bud.

"after you came back from the gym and took a shower, i-i went to your room to ask you for some help on my homework. your bathroom door was open and i saw your soaking wet body, a small towel wrapped around your waist. your back is so broad and muscular, i wouldn't help but wonder how it'd look with my nail marks." you admitted, making his eyes widen.

"you peeked in on me and touched yourself? what a naughty girl." he smirked, voice harboring a faux accusatory tone, when in reality his cock just throbbed at your confession.

you were just as perverted as him.

"h-hahh.. sorry, i d-didn't mean to!" you apologized innocently.

"lying to me won't help you, pips. ever had a finger in here?" his finger pressed against your hole, making your breath catch in your throat.

"yeah." you weakly answered, hearing him hum as he prodded at the tight opening, making you wince.

"yeah? she's so tight." caleb muttered, plunging in a thick digit as a choked moan ripped out of your throat from the sudden stretch. he grunted, feeling your wet, velvety walls clamp down on his finger.

you've fingered yourself a few times, but your fingers were so small and slim compared to caleb's long and thick ones. he began to slowly thrust his finger in and out of your hole to loosen you up, your eyes rolled back from the pleasure he was providing you with.

"ahhh~! need more, caleb." you heaved a sigh, face flushed as your lips were now glossy with spit from how much you licked them.

"eager are we?" caleb teased with a wicked grin, complying as he pushed in a second finger, making you gasp as your thighs instinctively closed.

"tch, don't be a brat." he growled, an almost bruising grip on your thighs as he peeled them back open.

in spite, he sped up the movement of his fingers that were now fucking into you. the thick digits scissored inside your hole at an unforgiving pace, grazing your cervix as you'd never even dream of your fingers caressing that sweet spot.

your juices gushed down your inner thighs, coating his fingers with a sheen layer as your folds were now sticky. his fingers continued to rub your walls deliciously, moans and whimpers flying out of your mouth mixed with whiny calls of his name; sounding like music to his ears.

suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, the tip of his middle finger drawing languid, purposeful circles on your twitching clit. your nose flared in frustration, pouting as you glared at him.

"caleb!" your voice was between a moan and a bellowed cry.

"good girls get what they want. c'mon, pips, ask nicely and maybe... just maybe i'll give you what you want." he egged further, making your pupils blow wide open.

he wanted you to beg?

"n-no! i'm not beggin' you." you argued stubbornly.

"is that so? then have fun finishing yourself off." he lightly pushed you off, making you groan in annoyance.

"okay, okay! sorry, please—god, please caleb. make me cum, please?" you begged, giving him the most nastiest and fuckable looking puppy eyes you could muster.

and it worked like a damn charm.

"see? that wasn't so hard, now was it?" he pressed a chaste kiss on your head before delving his fingers back into your achy cunt. you felt him sink his fingers deeper into you, making your mouth gape open as you used your hand to pull his face towards you—sloppily kissing him.

he's everywhere, his touch all-consuming, his body pressed against yours, his desire for you an almost tangible thing.

he swallowed your moans as you began to rock your hips forwards, fucking yourself on his hand; finger-fucking your dripping hole relentlessly. the obscene sounds your wet cunt produced was pornographic, the squelching noises of his slick covered fingers plunging in and out of your hole was nasty and hot.

caleb feels your walls pulsate around him, clenching as your thighs begin to quiver to indicate your incoming orgasm. your pussy drooling on his fingers made him eager to slip them out just to lick for a quick taste, but he wasn't that mean to ruin your orgasm for a second time.

the familiar warm, burning sensation now welcomed your lower stomach. you wriggled in his hold, feet digging into the sheets as your hand came down to grab at his wrist.

"w-wait! slow down, it's too much!" you breathed out, feeling like you were at the edge.

caleb rolled his eyes, not paying mind to your pleas as he continued to finger you through your orgasm. his free hand came down to press against your lower stomach, making your eyes widen as the pressure increased while his fingers plunged deeper in and out of your leaking hole, prodding at your cervix with each deep push.

"can't be too fast but can't be too slow. need to be rough but also need to be gentle. tch, you are sooo hard to please, princess." caleb draws out his words, thrusting his fingers inside your sloppy hole as your cunt sucked them in greedily.

"nghhh~ c-caleb i feel weird.. s-stop!" your words were empty, feeling your cunt gush all over his hand. a small stream of warm, clear liquid squirted out of your hole, making your eyes widen as you watched caleb press your lower stomach a little harder.

"that's it, pretty girl. give it to me." he talked you through your release, hand now drenched in your cum and juices. you tried to catch your breath, feeling like you just ran a marathon.

caleb slipped his fingers out of your ruined pussy, bringing them to his lips before his tongue lapped at his cum-covered digits. he hummed in satisfaction, enjoying your taste.

"so sweet." he praised, making you shudder.

you lifted yourself off of him, turning your body to face him with a scowl as you crossed your arms over your chest.

"you're such a jerk! you didn't let me cum the first time." you complained, making him cock an eyebrow.

"is that how you say thank you after i made you cum so hard? what an ungrateful mouth ya got, pips." caleb's eyes darkened, now settling to sit on his knees.

you gulped harshly, watching the slow yet calculated movements of his fingers working through his belt before unzipping his jeans; pulling the waistband of his pants and boxers down. his cock sprang to life, hitting against his clothed abs as your eyes widened at the sheer size and girth of his dick.

caleb was fucking hung, to say the least.

the dark pinkish mushroom tip of his hard cock angrily wept with beads of precum. he was long and thick, at least a good eight inches as his heavy cum-filled balls were settled on his waistband. a singular pulsating vein ran up the underside of his cock, a small peek of the dark happy trail leading to his huge cock graced your eyes.

"let's put that bratty mouth of yours to some good use, yeah?" caleb's hand reached out, thumb grazing your lower lip before pushing it a bit further, probing into your mouth. your tongue poked out as he pressed down on it, making you playfully bite down.

his body is trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. caleb's hands are everywhere, touching, grasping, holding you. he's desperate, every kiss, every touch filled with a raw, primal need.

caleb pulls you closer, his body hot against yours, his muscles coiled and tense. he's lost, drowning in you, his mind filled with nothing but the need to touch you, to be closer to you, to claim you as his own. he kisses down your neck, his mouth finding your collarbone, his teeth leaving marks, his hands leaving bruises.

you felt his bare cock rub against the smooth skin of your thighs, the tip smearing a trail of warm precum. you reached down to wrap your hand around his massive girth, making a ragged moan rip out of his throat, muffling the sound by biting down on your neck; leaving a purplish bruising mark to claim you as his.

"you're so big, caleb." you whispered, thumbing at his tip as you ran your finger along his wet slit.

caleb swallowed harshly, grunting as he felt you stroking his cock; noting how your small hands could barely hold him. it only made him wonder...

how much could your mouth take?

he kisses over the tender flesh of your boobs, his teeth grazing over your skin, his touch growing rougher, more demanding with each movement. he's desperate, craving you, his hand gripping your hip, his fingers.

he pulls away for a moment, trying to catch his breath as he looks down at you. his hand tenderly comes up to cup your face, tilting your head up to make you meet his eyes.

"you gonna be a good girl for me, princess?" he asks, thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek. you nodded, kissing the inside of his palm.

"mhm, promise." you gave him a girly smile, making his heart and cock jump at the same time.

you leaned down, pressing a teasing kiss on his tip, making caleb's jaw hang open from the contact. you gave small kitten-licks, tasting the slightly salty taste of his precum.

you grabbed a hold of his thick shaft before opening your mouth as wide as you could; feeding yourself his cock inch by inch until you felt the tip hit your uvula. the sudden warmth and wetness of your mouth welcoming caleb's hard dick made his muscles tense, hands unknowingly finding purchase in your hair as he pushed you towards his pelvis.

you gagged at the sudden movement, making caleb moan from the sudden tightness in your throat. you began to bob you head at a steady pace, sucking his cock with vigor as you pushed yourself to take as much of his massive length. whatever was left behind was tended by your hands.

you hollowed your cheeks, tongue circled around his tip before suckling on it like a lollipop, as caleb's head was thrown back from the intense pleasure you were giving him.

"fuuuuuckkk, just like that. good girl—h-hahhhh... such a good fuckin' girl." a ragged breath leaves his mouth, feeling the tip of your tongue trace the rigid line of the vein that ran up the side of his cock before swirling it around the sensitive head of his dick.

his hips buck slightly into your touch, seeking more of that delicious friction. caleb look down at you with lust-filled eyes, his gaze hazy and unfocused.

"where'd you learn how to do all of this, huh?" caleb groans, voice strained and tight with pleasure. he throws his head back with a low moan, eyes fluttering shut as the sensations overwhelm him. caleb's cock throbs and pulses in your warm mouth, growing even harder as you shove his cock deeper in your throat.

the feeling of your lips stretching around his girth while your tongue worked along the underside of his shaft felt like pure ecstasy. caleb grips your hair tighter, guiding your head as you bob up and down faster.

caleb begins to rock his hips slightly to meet your movements. he can feel the pleasure building rapidly, heart pounding in his ribs and breath growing ragged.

"fuck, fuck, fuuuckkkk.... gonna cum. shit, gonna cum so much down your throat, princess." caleb cries out, dick twitching in your throat as he bucks his hips into your mouth desperately to chase his high. the erotic sight of your hair framing your face while swallowing his massive hard cock sent pleasure waves all throughout his veins, adrenaline pumping as his balls ached for release.

suddenly you pull your mouth away, leaving his throbbing, aching cock exposed and pulsing in the cool air. a choked moan rips out of his throat, frustration warring with the lingering pleasure. caleb frowns slightly, brows knitting together.

before he could even put in a word of retaliation, you harshly tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him in for a nasty-cum coated open-mouthed kiss. caleb grunts from the sudden action that caught him off-guard, still recovering from the shocks of his denied orgasm.

the sounds of his moans and groans are muffled by your invading tongue. you kiss him with a fervor that steals his breath away, lips sloppy and wet against his. caleb can taste the lingering essence of his own precum on your tongue.

your tongue pushes deeper, stroking along his, sliding against the roof of his mouth. caleb can feel his cock throbbing almost painfully against your thigh, leaking and twitching with each roll and swirl of your sly tongue.

he grabs a hold of your jaw, forcing the two of your to part as he tries to catch his breath. clearly you were trying to distract him from what you did a few minutes ago, but he wasn't about to let that shit slide.

"you think you're funny, huh?" caleb pants harshly, reaching down to grip his spit-slicked cock, giving it a few slow, teasing strokes as he gazes at you with a mix of longing and bewilderment.

"you're gonna pay for that, brat." he glares darkly, shoving your head down towards his pelvis; rubbing the swollen, leaking head of his cock against your soft, plump lips, smearing them with his precum. you gasp at the sudden maneuvering, planting your hands on his thighs to ground yourself.

"open your fucking mouth." caleb commanded with a thick tone, and as soon as he felt your lips part, he thrusted his hips upward, driving his thick cock past your lips and deep into your warm, tight throat. he held your head in place, using your mouth like his personal fleshlight. caleb groaned at the sudden sensation of your throat clenching around his sensitive flesh.

caleb fucked your face with deep, rough strokes. the wet, obscene sounds of you choking and gagging filled the room as he used your mouth, heavy balls slapping against your chin with each brutal thrust.

"gonna fuck your pretty little throat until you're nothing but a sloppy, drooling mess." he promises darkly, voice strained with pleasure and a hint of cruelty.

your throat constricts around his pistoning cock as caleb's thrusts become more erratic, more desperate, as he chased his rapidly approaching orgasm. the room fills with the wet, gagging sounds of your struggles followed by his guttural moans. drool and precum mix together, dripping down onto your heaving tits.

you weakly tap at his thighs, only for him to ignore your feeble attempts; too far gone and lost in his pleasure from the wet heat of your convulsing throat. he's determined to take what he needs and use you until he's satisfied.

"no tapping out, brat. you're gonna-hnghh... fuck, you're gonna take what i give. gonna blow my load and you're gonna swallow every last drop." caleb can barely form coherent thoughts, brain fogged by how good your mouth felt swallowing his aching cock.

with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls-deep in your mouth, swollen cock pulsing and throbbing. caleb throws his head back with a guttural, animalistic groan as he starts to cum; hot, thick and sticky webs erupting directly down your throat to paint it white.

caleb holds your head in place, forcing you to take every last drop as he fills your stomach with his seed. he can feel you swallowing desperately around his pulsing dick, trying to gulp down his load.

caleb releases his grip on your hair and pulls you off of his now softening cock. you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering, thick ropes of his cum and drool dripping from your fucked-out mouth.

"you don't like it when i play nice, huh." caleb taunts, reaching out to catch a stray drop of cum and drool on your cheek with his finger.

"y-you! i hate you!" you glared at him, face now flushed with embarrassment as your plan of getting payback completely flopped.

"don't glare at me like that. i just cummed down your pretty little throat, what do you say?" he asks, making you pout as you look to the side.

"don't ignore me." he scowls, squishing your cheeks to make you face him and you groaned.

"t-thank you, caleb!" your words were muffled, but he heard you. caleb scoffed, letting go of you before swiftly taking off his shirt. he pushed you down into the mattress, parting your thighs to slot himself between them. violet eyes gleamed with a newfound hunger as he drank in the sight of your glorious dishevelment.

"i should lock you up... put a bell around your neck to know where you're headed when you wanna act against my words." caleb snarls, making you gulp as you felt slightly intimidated by the shift in the atmosphere.

however, your eyes were now trained on his well-sculpted muscular body. there was a thin sheen layer of sweat glistening on his chest from the shocks of his intense orgasm.

he grinds his hips forward, rubbing his erection along your panty-covered slit. the damp patch on your underwear grows, the fabric clinging to your swollen folds. caleb can feel the heat radiating off your core, drawing him in as his slick covered cock smears a mix of his cum and spit on your panties.

"oh, caleb!" you squealed at how deliciously the hard ridge of his cock slid along your slit, grazing over your puffy clit. your panties were now soaked with a mix of your juices, his cum and spit all combined; making it easy for him to glide his dick over your clothed pussy.

"tell me, why do you insist on running away from me, huh? don't you know you're mine? that i'll always find you?" caleb murmurs, his voice low and possessive.

he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them to the side, baring your dripping slit to his hungry gaze. caleb notches his bulbous cock head at your entrance, the swollen tip nudging against your slick folds. he doesn't push inside, not yet.

caleb's cock throbs against your bare folds, the thick shaft sliding along your sticky slit. the bulbous head nudging against your sensitive clit with each roll of his hips. he watches with dark satisfaction as your twitching little bud peeks out from beneath its hood, swollen and glistening with your juices.

"look at this greedy cunt, so hungry for my cock," caleb rasps, his voice heavy with lust. he circles his hips, grinding his hard dick against your aching clit. the motion sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, making your back arch off the mattress.

he feels your slick arousal coating his shaft, your juices dripping down to his heavy balls. the sensation only spurs him on, urges him to rut against her harder, faster.

he wants to fucking ruin you.

caleb leans down and captures your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and claiming it as his own. he swallows every whimper, every mewl of pleasure that escapes your lips. his cock jumps against your folds, the thick length pulsing with a mind of its own.

"gonna make this pussy sloppy with my cum. fuck, you need my cock so bad, don't you?" he breathes out, words failing to process in your head as you just nodded.

"yes, yes, yes! oh please, caleb... f-feel so so good. nghhh~ love your cock..!" you cried out, seeing stars as you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft as it drags between your wet folds; the tip of his weeping slit kissing your clit each time he snaps his hips forward.

your fingers claw at caleb's shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you cling to him. the heat building inside you coils tighter and tighter, inner walls starting to flutter on nothing as you could feel your incoming orgasm.

it takes everything in him to not slam his cock in you and fuck you to an oblivion.

"s-shit, gonna cum." caleb lets out a strangled moan, his cock pulses and jerks against your folds, the tip flaring angrily and leaking a thick spurt of cum. the hot, sticky liquid coats your folds, as caleb continued to grind his hips against yours; the lewd shlick shlick sounds of your wet cunt rubbing against his cum-coated cock nearly made you cum again undone.

"you're having too much fun." you cleared your throat, looking at him with a serious look.

"am i, now?" he innocently responds, making your irritation grow. using whatever bits of strength you had left, you pushed yourself up to sit before shoving him to the side; making him fall onto the bed.

he let you, of course.

hunger-filled amethyst eyes trailed your every move like a predator, licking his lips to revive some moisture.

"you never shut up, do you? always fuckin' nagging at me like i'm some dumb little kid. like you know everything! i'm sick of your shit, i can't stand you!" you yelled through gritted teeth, making him cock an eyebrow at your sudden change in attitude.

"yeah? can't stand me? then fucking sit, princess." caleb snarls back with equal bite.

your eyes darken, a twisted smirk ghosting on your lips.

"you know what, i will." you barked out a small chuckle, grabbing a hold of the waistband of your panties to shove them down; completely discarding them to the side.

you draped your leg over to the other side of his head, your dripping pussy hovering right above his face. caleb's eyes were trained on your cunt, engraving how your folds glistened with slick, puffy little clit cutely peeking out of your lips.

"no more talking. be a good boy and eat." you sternly directly, before putting your weight on him, mashing your dripping slit against his eager mouth.

caleb grips your hips hard, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass.

"i could eat this pretty pussy all fucking day." caleb groans against your folds, his voice muffled but dripping with desire. he leans in and takes a long, slow lick up your slit, his tongue delving between your swollen pussy lips to lap at your juices.

"aahhh, yes... oh caleb, mhmmm..." you drawled out, eyes rolling back at you grinding your needy cunt against his tongue.

caleb's tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, flicking and circling the swollen bud as he sucks it between his lips. he presses open-mouthed wet smooches; the smacking and slurping sounds rang loud and clear in your head.

"thaaatsss what i wanna hear. fuck, so good." you giggle, drunk in pleasure as your head was thrown back in ecstasy. your fingers tighten in his hair, manicured nails peeking through his dark brown locks.

caleb's eyes were closed, relishing in your taste and the feel of your soft, wet pussy that was now making out with his tongue. it was perfect, everything he could possibly dream of when he used to desperately suck on the gausset of your soiled stolen panties.

you tasted so sweet, he's becoming addicted.

"so tired of hearing you. always so fuckin' mean to me... so b-bossy—hnghhh... always a fuckin' bitch when you don't get your damn way." you spoke through broken sentences, biting down on your lips, tasting the metallic taste of blood as soft whimpers were drawn from your throat.

as you grind your hips against caleb's face, his nose nudges against your clit with each desperate roll. the little bud, swollen and throbbing from his relentless assault, catches on the bridge of his nose with each downward thrust.

he takes advantage of the sensation, tilting his chin to rub his nose against her clit. his tongue darted out to tease your aching hole, jaw gaped open as you feel him plunge his tongue inside. he drives his muscle in and out, lips sealed around your entrance to catch every drop of your sweet juices. the lewd sound of wet, sloppy sucking fills the room as he eats you out with vigor.

his tongue pokes and curls inside your wet walls, making wanton moans escape your lips as you tugged on his hair. your eyes screwed shut, short, sharp gasps itched your throat.

"yes, yes, yes! h-hahhh, so good. fuck, gonna cum!" you cried out, pressing your leaking cunt down on his face, smoothering him completely. caleb was completely pussy drunk, his brain short-circuited. you body tensed, thighs trembling as you could feel your lower stomach tighten; reaching your high.

"caleb!" you moaned out his name in the most pornographic tone ever, body jerking from the after shock as your pussy gushed all over his face; coating his chin and lips with your cum. he lapped at your wet, overstimulated cunt to clean you up, not wanting to waste a single drop.

you hastily grabbed at the headboard, trying to escape but his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips to yank you back down, locking you in place as he sucked you dry.

"s-stop, it's too much." you breathed out, pushing his head away. with one final slow and long drag of his tongue between your sticky folds followed by a wet kiss on your clit; he finally pulls away, licking his lips.

you watch his face peek out from between your thighs, a lazy wet smirk dancing on his lips. violet eyes staring up at your flushed face, watching the small beads of sweat trickle down the side of your face. caleb presses soft kisses on your inner thighs, making goosebumps form all over your body; still recovering from the sensitivity your previous orgasm gave you.

"you've been holding all of that inside you for a while, huh? that nobody of a girl made your panties twist so hard that you've been acting so harsh with me. i'm hurt." caleb's words were soft spoken, tone lace with an undertone of sadness, lips grazing against the skin of your thighs.

"you're hurt? what about me? i watched you smile and laugh with her like she told you the world's funniest joke ever. you seen her these past few months more than you've been home. and... a-and-" you could feel the familiar lump form in your throat, eyes pricking with tears as you silently cursed at yourself for still being so weak.

caleb's gaze softened, heart clenching at the sight of seeing you hold back tears. nonetheless, he remained quiet, wanting to hear you out and speak to him after your unforgiving silent treatment.

deep down, he knew that neither of you wanted things to head down south. you wanted to fix things and so did he, and this was the only way.

the only chance the both of you will have to be so vulnerable to each other, so weak and soft.

"you cooked for her caleb. i thought... i thought that was something you only did for me. i feel special when you care for me, knowing that there's still someone left on this planet that'll put up with me. that... that i still have you to find home in." with that being said, all your walls came crashing down as warm tears ran down your cheek, bottom lip quivering. each droplet landed on his cheek, making his gut twist in guilt for hurting you so much unknowingly.

"pips... i never cooked for her with any intention. i showed her a picture of the omurice i made for you and she wanted the recipe. i just showed her the technique i used to fold the egg." caleb explained, lithe fingers softly caressing the softness of your hips, tracing the small faint lines of your stretch marks that he adored so much.

"r-really? so you don't hate me?" you sniffled, making him let out a small laugh.

"of course not, silly girl. where'd you get that from? you know i love you more than life itself, y/n. you're my whole world, everything in my life revolves around you, pips. without you... i'm nothing." he sincerely confessed, his voice raw with emotion as if every last word was ripped straight out of the depths of his heart that bled for you and only you.

he looked at you like you hung the stars for him, like your gentle arms cradled the moon in the night sky to shine light in his dark life; like you were the warmth of the sun that embraced him.

you moved down, now sitting on his stomach before leaning down; releasing your weight to lay on him.

"oh, my sweet girl." instinctively, caleb wrapped his arms around you. he pressed a tender kiss on the top of your hair, gently stroking your back to soothe you as you cried.

"i'm sorry, caleb." you choked out, making him shake his head.

"you have nothin' to be sorry for, baby. i'm sorry for not realizing how much i was hurting you." caleb apologized, making you tighten your embrace.

"why do you put up with me?" you genuinely asked.

was it pity?

emotional attachment?

"because i love you." he answered without any hesitation, making your heart flutter.

"you're stupid." you laugh, making him chuckle. you pulled away, face hovering above his as you looked down at his handsome face, his features already memorized and engraved within the deep crevices of your brain.

"you think i'm kidding? i'll prove it to you then." caleb wipes away the stray tear on your cheek before bringing his hand behind your head, pulling you in for a kiss.

it wasn't rough or messy like the previous ones. no, this one was different, felt different. his lips were molding with yours, just like how his soul molded with yours whenever you were in his arms; safe and sound. he felt warm, smelled like home and felt like heaven on earth.

with a firm arm wrapped around you, holding your body in place with his, he manhandled you; now having you under him as his broad stature hovered above you.

after giving him your whole heart essentially and having that sappy conversation, you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. with a swift motion, you rolled onto your stomach, hiding your face in the sheets. a warm smile was painted on his lips, finding your actions adorable.

"hiding that pretty face of yours from me? how selfish of you." he teased, his words held no malice. caleb moved your hair to the side, exposing more of your skin as he pressed soft kisses all over your back; trailing down your spine.

suddenly, his eyes fall on the inked words on your lower back.

kiss here 💋

his eyes widened, never noticing the tattoo because your panties probably hid it from him or something.

it must've been recent.

"when did you get this?" he questions, tracing the words with the tip of his finger.

"a month ago." you blurted out, words slightly muffled due to your face being buried in the mattress.

"and you didn't tell me? who did it? was it a guy?" caleb bombarded you with questions, voice sounding a little on edge.

"relax, it was one of my girl friends. she recently opened up her own tattoo shop and i offered to be her first client." you defended, but the situation didn't switch directions regardless.

"could've been an animal for all i care. only i can see you like this." he presses wet smooches on your tattoo repeatedly, making you sigh in bliss.

you could feel his hard cock rubbing against the swell of your ass, his hips rutting against you to gain some kind of friction. caleb grunted, licking and kissing your flesh.

"tell me you want it, y/n. please, i-i... i need to hear you say that you want me as bad as i want you." caleb begged, making your breath hitch as you felt his arm dig under your stomach, lifting your waist.

you turned your head a little, eyes locking with him.

"please caleb, i want you so bad. i need you, only you. please, fuck me." your voice was broken with desire, feeling yourself getting wet as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

as you lay face down on the bed, legs slightly spread hips tilted up, caleb kneels behind you, taking in the tantalizing view of your ass and the glistening, swollen folds of your pussy peeking out from between your thighs. he can see the way your body trembled with anticipation, heat radiating off your skin.

"gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. i'll take care of you." caleb leans down, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your spine, his hands kneading the soft globes of your ass before kissing it.

he parts your thighs further with his knees as he positions himself behind you, hard, thick cock hovering over your entrance. he takes a moment to rub the leaking tip up and down your sticky slit, coating himself in your slick arousal as the head of his cock swipes at your clit a few times.

the fat, mushroom tip of his dick prods at your tight hole, making you gasp as you feel him push it in.

"breathe, baby. i got you, i promise." caleb softly whispered, his free hand rubbing up and down the sides of your thigh.

slowly, he begins to push in further, feeding your wet cunt more inches of his massive cock. a yelp escaped your lips from the pain of being stretched, the sensation foreign. your arms gave out, body now slumped on the bed as you shoved your face in the bed, muffling your painful winces as you gripped the sheets.

"i know, honey... i'm sorry, i promise it'll feel better." caleb groaned, feeling your walls fluttering around his cock. he takes his time, letting you adjust to his size.

he was barely halfway in, but you already felt so full of him, like you were one.

caleb's hand reached down to rub your clit, trying to provide some kind of pleasurable stimulation to distract you from the pain. after some time, he pushed his hips further in, making you take more of his cock until you were stretched to the brim, a small bulge forming in your lower stomach.

caleb pants, cock enclosed by your soft, wet, gummy walls. he suddenly pulled back until the tip of his cock threatened to slip out. confused, you raised your head to look back at him, only for the wind to be knocked out of your lungs as he snapped his hips forward with a sharp thrust, making your eyes blow wide open as a squeal ripped out of your throat.

"you're doing so well, y/n. taking me so beautifully, like you were made for this, made to be mine. i love you so fucking much, baby. i want this to be everything you've ever dreamed of." caleb moaned, fucking into you at a leisure pace, making you whimper as the pain subsided to a delicious pleasureable feeling.

he leans down, pressing a tender kiss on your nape, his flushed chest pressed against your back. caleb grinds his pelvis against your hips, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as you were filled to the brim.

"caleb! hnghhh... s-so full.." you mewled, your body hot and trembling as he continued to thrust in and out of your sloppy hole that was now leaking on his cock.

you shuddered, feeling his hips pistoning into you, dick driving into you deeper and deeper as your walls clamped down on it. the single vein on his cock rubbed your velvety walls, making your eyes roll back at you could feel his dick pulsate inside you.

caleb's eyes land on the pink bow discarded on the side of your bed, arm reaching out to grab the clip. he clips the bow onto your hair, before kissing the back of your head.

"beautiful, so damn beautiful." he praised, breathless.

his thrusts are still slow and deliberate but growing steadily harder, deeper, more purposeful. he takes his time, savoring each slide of his thick cock through your tight, virgin cunt, each clench and flutter of your walls around him, each breathless little sound that escapes your lips.

caleb's hand snakes around your hip, slipping down to the juncture of your thighs. he finds your swollen, aching clit and starts to circle it with the pad of his thumb, his touch maddeningly slow and teasing at first before growing more insistent, more demanding.

"f-fuck, you're perfect. been dreaming of this moment my whole life, baby. i love you, god, i love you so much! h-ahhh... please, please, please. oh sweet girl, tell me you love me. please? oh, i'll do anything for you. anything!" he desperately ruts against you, thrusts becoming more needy as he grunts in your ears.

caleb was was balls deep in you, each stroke was sharp but it hit all the right spots. his balls heavily slapped against your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. he licks and bites down on your shoulder, intoxicated by your smell and taste.

your hand reaches behind him, fingers finding his dog-tag necklace as you tugged it; pulling his face closer. you turned your head to the side, lifting it before locking your lips with his. with the sloppiness of his thrusts, you chased the movements of his lips.

"i love you, caleb. fu-nghh~ i've always loved you, always! there's no man for me unless it's you. god, i love you so bad, my body craves you... only you." you moaned against his lips, eyes gazing into his violets with nothing but pure adoration.

caleb's heart pounds against his ribs, blood rushing to his cock as adrenaline pumps into his veins. his hips never faltered, a steady pace as he continues to bruise your cervix with each deep thrust.

"you're mine, only mine. i'm the only one who can see you like this, make you fall apart like this. god, you were made to be loved by me." and suddenly, his eyes prick with tears as the fat drops trickle down his cheek.

you could feel the familiar coil tightening in your lower stomach, making your thighs tremble as your toes curled in pleasure.

"fuck, fuck... oh, caleb! i'll study hard, so fuckin' hard. i'll become a nurse in the DAA, so that i can be with you all the time. everyone will know that your mine, only mine!" your eyes screwed shut, brain fogged with nothing but the feeling of being so cock drunk.

caleb's pupils dilated, the possessive undertone of your words, how you claimed him and wanted to be with him; it's all that it took for him to blow his load.

"cumming, fuck, gonna breed this sweet pussy." caleb groaned, arm circling around your hips to deeply nestle his cock in you; thick, sticky webs of cum painting your walls white. he continued to thrust his dick inside, feeling your walls twitch before gushing all over him, drenching his balls as a white ring of cum formed at the base of his shaft.

caleb rests his body on top of yours, careful to not crush you with his entire weight. the two of you are completely breathless, bodies covered in sweat.

he pulls out his now soft cock, watching your hole gape open from the loss of contact of being stretched with his massive girth. his cum spilled out of your messy cunt, trickling down and onto the bed.

caleb laid on the side, scooting closer to pull you against him. you wrapped your arms and legs around him, clinging to his body heat as you nuzzled your face against his chest. he stroked your hair, brushing the baby hairs that stuck to your sweaty forehead.

your eyelids fluttered open, a hazy look as you looked up at him. he gave you a soft smile, leaning down to press a kiss on the tip of your nose before pressing a long, tender kiss on your lips.

"tired." you mumbled, making him laugh.

"yeah? get some sleep, pips. i'll clean you up." he offers, making you giggle.

"wow, ten out of ten aftercare. no wonder why every girl wants you." you grin, but he could sense a small undertone of sadness in your voice.

"aftercare that they'll never get to experience because they're not you, y/n. this was my first time too, y'know." caleb shyly admitted as the tips of his ears turned red, making your eyes widen in suprise.

"seriously?" you asked, a bit baffled.

"yeah, it felt wrong to be with any other girl that wasn't you." he sheepishly smiled, making your heart skip a beat.

he saved himself for you all this time.

caleb grabbed the matching necklace that sat gracefully on your tits, brushing his thumb over the cold metal.

"i love you and only you. y/n, you're the woman of my dreams, the only one who can make my heart beat with purpose." caleb's tone was sincere, words pure with love.

your fingers wrapped around his chain, bringing the tag pendant closer to you.

"and you're the only one my heart is set to love, caleb." you smiled warmly, eyes lovingly gazing at him.

the two of you kissed each other's pendant, sealing the heartfelt confession.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

it was finally the day that caleb would graduate from university and the DAA program. you were excited to attend his graduation, your heart swelling with pride as you knew how hard he worked for all his achievements.

he passed his exams and necessary coursework, graduating with honors and securing a full-time job at the DAA. god, just how much more perfect could he get?

you entered the huge stadium, holding a bouquet of colorful lilies and orchids. you took a seat in the sea of parents that came to see their children walk on the stage, fixing your white sundress.

the ceremony began as the faculty members began to give their boring speeches. soon after, it was time to hand the degrees and certificates as each graduate began to walk across the stage.

your heart leaped into your throat as you watched caleb step up the stairs of the stage, his name being called and a loud scream of his name erupted from your throat as you cheered for him proudly.

"i love you baby!!" you yelled from the back, but your voice caught his ear as he turned to the audience, immediately finding your face. he shot you a charming smile, waving before walking off the stage.

you felt like a fan who's celebrity crush finally noticed them.

after the ceremony was over, all the students scrambled in different directions to congratulate friends and hug their family. you finally made it past the swarming crowd of parents, watching caleb walk towards your direction as he was deeply immersed in his conversation. however, from the corner of your eyes you could make out the familiar face of the one person you wished to not see.

it was the girl in his program, ___. you smirked to yourself, halting your steps as you let her approach him first. you watch caleb freeze, body tensing as an awkward smile replaced his previous expression.

poor baby.

saving him from the misery, you tightly grip onto the pretty bouquet of flowers in your arms, running towards him. the click-clack sounds of your heels echoed, and yeah, your toes did hurt.

but it didn't matter.

"caleb!!" you chirped with a bright smile, catching his attention as caleb's lips automatically curled into a grin.

he opened his arms as you jumped into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck as your legs locked around his waist. you giggled, pressing kisses all over his face; staining his flawless skin with red kiss marks.

"congrats, caleb. oh, you look soooo handsome in your uniform." you cooed, smooching his lips shamelessly as you smiled against his lips.

"yeah? you got a thing for guys in uniform now, pips?" caleb teased, making you smirk.

"only if it's you... but i think i'd prefer if your uniform was off." you playfully bite his bottom lip, making him chuckle.

"naughty girl." he whispered, making you giggle.

suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat. you turned your head and looked at ___ shift from one foot to the other, face tainted with embarrassment.

"uh, i think i'll go, my parents are probably looking for me. congrats again, caleb." she forced a tight smile, waving at you two before turning around to leave. your eyes fell on the small letter in her hands, now gripping it tight to crumple it as she walked away.

"confessing on graduation day? how lame. well, not like she had a chance anyways." you huffed, shrugging with indifference.

"you're real mean, pips. i like this side of you." caleb grinned, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"now can we go home? i still have to give your gift!" you pouted impatiently.

"oh really? or is that an excuse to trap me and strip me out of my uniform?" he poked at you with a sly expression, making you smirk. you gasp playfully.

"how did you know?" you winked, before the the both of you broke into a fit of laugh.

"okay, okay. let's go home, my sweet girl." with that being said, caleb walked out of the stadium with you still in his arms and his face full of your kiss marks.

and he wouldn't have had it any other way.

---

a/n: if you made it to the end, here's a fat smooch for you :3 hope you guys enjoyed this caleb piece, it took me a few weeks to work on it lol. idk why but it's something about this man that just makes something clench iykyk. sigh, wtf did infold lace into him when making him. anyways, let me know if you guys prefer longer smutfics or if you like them short! if you couldn't tell, i get carried away very easily lolol.

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solxamber · 7 months ago

Text

Trash Novel Chronicles: Villain System vs World - Riddle Rosehearts x reader

You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.

i had so much fun writing this, i hope you like it just as much!

Series Masterlist

You’ve had a week. Not just any week—a rough week. Work has been an absolute dumpster fire, deadlines have been chasing you like a pack of rabid wolves, and your responsibilities are piling up like a game of Jenga about to collapse. If someone were to ask how you’re doing, you’d just laugh maniacally and hope they’d back away slowly.

So, when you finally make it home, the first thing you do is collapse face-first onto your couch with all the grace of a dead fish. After a moment of just lying there, contemplating whether adulthood is some kind of elaborate prank, you do the one thing that always makes you feel better: grab your phone and open up your webnovel app.

You scroll through your favorites—ah yes, the classics. Trashy, absurd, villainess webnovels that are objectively terrible but subjectively amazing. You’re talking about the ones with titles like “I’m the Evil Duke’s Twisted Ex-Fiancée, But He Loves Me Now Because I Have Plot Armor!” or “My Death Flags Mean Nothing Because I Can Charm My Way Out of Everything (And Also, Dragons)”.

It’s like junk food for your brain. You know it’s not good for you. You know there are objectively better stories out there. But the drama, the ridiculous misunderstandings, the sheer stupidity of every character decision—it’s beautiful. It’s a hot mess, and you are the fly drawn to it.

Except this time, you somehow pick the worst one.

You don’t know if it’s because your standards are already on the floor and this one somehow dug under it, or if the exhaustion has finally gotten to you, but it’s bad.

The story is all over the place. The villainess is cartoonishly cruel, like she wakes up in the morning and thinks, “What heinous thing can I do today?” But sometimes, you swear she doesn’t even want to be that way. It’s like the author just decided, “Villainess = bad,” and put their brain to bed.

The plot? Oh, it’s a mess. The villainess and heroine are sisters—the real daughter of a Duke and the adopted, sweet angel who gets all the Duke’s affection. Naturally, they both fall for the same guy: Riddle Rosehearts, some prodigy with a complex about rules, order, and justice. Of course, the Duke arranges for his precious adopted daughter to marry Riddle, and the villainess? She flips out, does a bunch of cruel things (of course), and eventually gets herself killed in a totally overdramatic fashion.

Okay, typical villainess plot so far. Nothing new there.

But the worst part? The treatment of poor Riddle. It’s like he’s just a toy to be fought over. The sisters practically claim ownership of him like he’s a fancy handbag. Then, once the villainess is conveniently eliminated, the author gives Riddle this tragic backstory. Harsh childhood, crazy controlling mom—you know, the works. You brace yourself for the resolution, for him to rise above his traumaand find happiness.

Nope. His trauma is treated like a joke. Nothing gets resolved. He’s just stuck in this gilded cage, with the heroine taking over as the new warden. And somehow, that’s supposed to be the happy ending?

It’s horrible. It’s nonsensical. It’s everything you could want right now.

You should stop. You know you should stop. But the sheer absurdity of it has you in its grasp.

And you don't even want to think about the love decagon. Yes, decagon. There are 9 men dying over this heroine who has the personality of rusty spoon.

You snort, your laughter echoing through your empty apartment. It’s awful. It’s brain-rotting, cringe-inducing garbage.

You love it.

The plot is hanging on by a thread, and yet, there you are, fully committed. You don’t need quality writing, deep themes, or even consistent character motivations. What you need is to watch this trainwreck unfold until the bitter end, and you’ll be damned if you don’t see it through.

But that’s when the universe decides to kick you in the teeth. In a sequence of events so absurd you couldn’t make it up if you tried, you—oh, wait for it—die. And not in some grand, noble fashion, either. You slip on some residual shampoo on your bathroom floor, and fall face first onto a tap. Ouch.

Really?

Out of all the dramatic, swoon-worthy ways to die, like saving a kitten from a burning building or sacrificing yourself for someone you loved, you went out like a fool. A shower slip. One minute you’re standing, and the next, you’re faceplanting like some poorly executed slapstick scene.

And then, boom. Everything went black.

Which brings you to now. You feel odd. The texture of the sheets beneath you isn’t quite right. They’re silkier than the cheap cotton sheets you usually wrapped yourself in before bed. The air smells... different too. Not to mention, the bed feels way bigger, and you’re nestled in something way too plush to be your beat-up old mattress.

You bolt upright, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the room. You squint around and your eyes widen. This is… not your room. Gone are the band posters, the laundry in the corner, and your trusty alarm clock with the missing buttons. Instead, you’re surrounded by opulence: heavy velvet drapes, an intricately carved wooden dresser, and a huge vanity covered in jewels.

Your heart drops.

Slowly, you lift your hands. They are... not your hands. These are dainty, perfectly manicured hands. No chewed-off nails. No pen smudges from your hours of work. Just smooth, perfect fingers, topped off with the exact kind of expensive manicure you'd normally cringe at paying for.

No. Fucking. Way.

Frantically, you throw the blankets off yourself and scramble to the nearest mirror. What you see staring back at you isn’t your own reflection.

“Oh. My. God.”

You’ve been isekai’d. Into a webnovel.

And not just any webnovel. No. The terrible one you’d been reading before your humiliating death. You’re in the body of the villainess, the character who was basically a walking disaster from beginning to end. Not to mention, she was set to die a very messy, very public death within a few weeks.

“Oh god. I’m screwed.” You pace around the room in a panic, wringing your hands together. “How am I supposed to survive this? I can’t be a villainess! I don’t even like drama!”

You glance around desperately for something, anything that will give you some semblance of control over the situation. This can’t be happening. Maybe this is all a weird dream? You pinch yourself. Hard.

“Ow.” Nope. Definitely not a dream. Just your reality. Fantastic.

Then, you spot it. A glowing screen, floating mid-air right next to your head.

The classic system menu, like the ones from every villainess isekai you’ve read.

Except, instead of comforting you, this one makes you want to scream. Because in glaring red letters, it says:

“Villainess System Activated! Complete your tasks or face severe consequences.”

You blink. “Consequences?”

A new notification pops up, smug as hell. “Severe punishment will be dealt if you fail your villainous duties."

Oh, great. You’re trapped in a parody of an isekai where you not only have to survive as the villainess, but also complete quests like some twisted game. Lovely.

You stare at the system menu. “This is going to be fine,” you mutter, trying to convince yourself. “I just have to do the opposite of whatever got this chick killed. Just... stop being a jerk, right?”

But no sooner do you say that when the system blinks and pops up your first quest:

“System: Ruin Lady Heron’s Garden Party. Reward: 50 Villain Points.”

Are you kidding me?

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Okay, but hear me out,” you say to the system like it’s a person you can negotiate with. “What if I ruin it... with a compliment? Like, I tell her that her flower arrangements are so beautiful that she faints from the shock?”

The system’s reply is immediate: “Invalid. Must complete task in line with villainess behavior.”

“Oh, come on!” You pace the room again, muttering under your breath. “Fine. You wanna play it like this? I can play.” You crack your knuckles. “We’ll see who outsmarts who.”

The next hour passes in a whirlwind of panicked planning. You’ve read enough villainess novels to know the basic rules: never do what you’re supposed to do, but always make it look like you are. It’s malicious compliance at its finest.

So, when you arrive at Lady Heron’s garden party, dressed to kill (because apparently that’s a thing villainesses do), you’ve already concocted your plan.

The system wants you to ruin the event? Fine. But you’ll do it your way. You compliment Lady Heron’s flowers with the fakest smile you can muster, pouring on the charm. You gush about her decorations until she’s practically glowing, all while subtly steering the conversation away from the usual petty gossip that gets the villainess in trouble.

Instead of sabotaging the food, you pretend to be horrified when the catering staff makes a small mistake, swooping in to save the day and looking like a hero in the process. And as for the “accidental” tripping of the host’s dress that was supposed to happen? You deftly catch her instead, earning surprised gasps from the crowd.

By the end of it, the system’s fuming, and you’re basking in the glory of having completed your “villainous task” without actually being villainous.

Malicious compliance for the win, you think smugly.

The system didn't like your attitude and it wants it to be known.

"System: Next quest: Defeat the chicken in the garden."

No problem, right? It wasn’t like you were going up against a raging dragon or anything. It was just a chicken. A harmless little chicken.

Wrong.

You found yourself standing in a dusty barn, staring down the most demonic creature you’d ever seen—a puffed-up, red-eyed chicken with an attitude problem. This thing wasn’t just any chicken; it looked like it had gone ten rounds with a tiger and won. Twice.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you muttered under your breath, rolling up your sleeves as the chicken fluffed its feathers like it was about to brawl. You eyed it warily. It eyed you back, and for a second, you swore you saw flames in its eyes.

"System: Quest update: —Defeat the Chicken of Doom!"

Chicken of Doom? You squinted at the thing. “You could’ve warned me, you know.”

"System: Where’s the fun in that?"

The chicken let out an ear-splitting squawk and lunged at you like a tiny, feathered fury. You dodged, barely, as it pecked the air where your face had been a moment earlier. This was no ordinary chicken. This thing had skills.

You scrambled out of the way, trying to think of a strategy that didn’t involve you getting pecked into oblivion. “System! Any tips here?”

"System: Aim for the legs. That’s where the power is."

The legs? You glanced down at the chicken’s scrawny legs. “I’m pretty sure it’s coming for my face, not my ankles!”

"System: Well, you could always just run. But that’s not very villainous, is it?"

“Oh, you are the worst,” you grumbled as the chicken made another wild leap for your head. You ducked, grabbed a nearby rake, and swung it around like a makeshift sword. “Alright, chicken. Let’s dance.”

What followed was an embarrassing display of you flailing around the barn, trying to fend off this demonic poultry with a rake while the system laughed at you from the sidelines.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dodging and weaving, you managed to hook the rake around one of its legs, pulling it off balance. The chicken flopped onto its back, flailing wildly as it squawked in outrage. You quickly pinned it down with the back-end of the take, panting heavily.

"System: Congratulations! Quest complete. 50 Villain Points awarded."

You glared at the system’s message. “I better get more than 100 points for this. I deserve a medal.”

"System: How about the satisfaction of knowing you just defeated the Chicken of Doom?"

You groaned, wiping sweat from your forehead. “Next time you send me on a quest, can it be against something less likely to murder me? Like a butterfly?”

"System: No promises. But look on the bright side—you’re officially undefeated in chicken combat. And you now are +50 Villain points richer"

“Fantastic,” you deadpanned, finally letting the defeated chicken hobble away with its dignity intact. “Just what I always wanted to be known for.”

You walked out of that barn a little wiser, a little bruised, and a lot more wary of small farm animals. From that day forward, chickens were officially your sworn enemies.

Villain points: 100

You were still in denial that you were in that novel. But what's a better wakeup call than running into the main lead? The guy who the story revolves around, Riddle Rosehearts.

You had decided to take a stroll in the academy's gardens when a loud squeaking noise caught your attention.

Turning the corner, you stumbled upon a scene that confirmed your worst fears: Riddle Rosehearts, was hunched over a small enclosure, tending to a couple of prickly hedgehogs.

“What in the world…?” you muttered, leaning in closer. Riddle was meticulously checking their little habitats, his brow furrowed in concentration. You had to admit, he looked oddly cute.

As you watched, one of the hedgehogs—who seemed to have more ambition than sense—decided to attempt an escape. It made a daring leap right off the side of the table, and you could practically hear the collective gasp of the students around you. Time slowed as you saw the tiny creature plummet toward the ground.

No!

Without thinking, you launched yourself forward, arms outstretched, preparing to catch the little spiky ball of chaos. You almost made it, but instead of a graceful landing, you miscalculated and ended up face-first in a pile of fallen leaves, with a hedgehog landing right on your back.

Riddle’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you doing?!”

With the hedgehog squirming atop you, you tried to push yourself up. “Just… saving this little guy,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. The hedgehog seemed to be enjoying the view from its leafy throne, completely unfazed by the near disaster.

“Are you okay?” Riddle asked, half-concerned, half-amused as he stepped closer. You could see a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, which was both infuriating and endearing.

“Yeah, just a minor case of heroism!” you replied, attempting to sound cool while still half-buried in leaves. “No big deal. Just saving lives one hedgehog at a time.”

The students around you started whispering, some trying to hold back laughter. Riddle, however, seemed genuinely impressed, his cheeks turning a shade of red that almost matched his hair. “Uh… thank you?” he said, fumbling for words. “That was… very quick thinking.”

As you finally managed to roll over, the hedgehog took that moment to scuttle off your back, plopping down on the ground with a little thud. You turned to Riddle, brushing leaves off your shirt. “Yeah, well, it’s what I do best. Hedgehog rescuer by day, unremarkable student by night.”

Riddle blinked, processing your words while his face continued to betray a mix of flustered admiration and confusion. “You… you look quite cool doing that,” he said, almost to himself, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

You smirked, enjoying the moment. “Cool? Well, thank you.”

Riddle opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly flustered. “Right… um, thank you again. I usually prefer to do everything by the book, but you… you have a knack for chaos.”

“Just trying to shake things up a bit!” you replied, grinning. “Besides, what’s life without a little excitement?”

His face turned an even deeper shade of red, and for a moment, you thought he might actually explode. “Excitement is… not exactly my strong suit,” he admitted with a seriousness that almost made you laugh.

Just then, Cater called out, “Hey, Riddle, are you blushing over there?”

Riddle straightened up, all business once more. “I am not blushing!” he snapped, though it only made the others laugh harder.

You couldn’t help but chuckle yourself. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s very becoming.”

At this point, he was trying desperately to regain his composure, his usual dignified self crumbling under the unexpected twist of fate. “Right, well… um, thanks for your help,” he stammered, trying to pivot back to his hedgehogs as if that would restore some order to his day.

“Anytime!” you replied cheerfully, already plotting your next move in this wild webnovel world. After all, you might just have to become the chaotic force that turns Riddle’s world upside down.

As you left him there, you couldn’t help but think—yup, you were definitely in that webnovel. And you were not hating it.

"System: New quest: Sabotage the dinner. +100 points"

Oh this was a quest you were willing to do even if the system didn't ask you to. All you need to do was question your darling sister's yapping and you'll be set.

The dinner is going about as smoothly as you’d expect a social gathering could in this godforsaken story. Which is to say, not smooth at all.

You’re sitting at a long, polished table that looks like it’s seen better days—probably because it's held together by the sheer willpower of outdated noble customs. Your dear sister, the illustrious heroine of the world, is seated at the opposite end of the table, positively glowing in her usual self-absorbed way, surrounded by a gaggle of male leads that have somehow become entangled in her web of charm. Including, of course, the third male lead, a guy whose name you don’t even care to remember, but who keeps giving you condescending looks from across the table.

Your father, seated next to her, is smiling like he’s watching his favorite child perform in a school play. Every time the heroine opens her mouth, he’s doting on her with embarrassing enthusiasm, nodding along like she’s spewing pearls of wisdom when, in reality, it’s more like dribbling out some very glittery, very ignorant garbage.

“Oh, Father,” your sister begins, in that overly sweet, almost nauseating voice of hers. “Did you know that dandelions are actually a type of flower? Most people mistake them for weeds, but I just find them so fascinating.”

You internally groan. Seriously? Dandelions? That’s the big revelation she’s bringing to the table tonight?

Your father beams at her, his eyes twinkling as if she’s just solved world hunger. “My dear, you’re so clever. It’s amazing how much you know!”

Ace, seated next to you, nearly spits out his water. You glance at him and catch the barely-restrained laughter on his face, which only makes you want to snicker along with him.

You give him a look that says "brace yourself."

You lean forward slightly, your face the picture of politeness, and say with a small smile, “Well, technically, dandelions are considered invasive species in most gardens. I suppose calling them ‘fascinating’ is one way of putting it.”

Your sister blinks at you, clearly confused by the subtle jab, while Trey—who’s seated beside Riddle—hides his smirk behind a delicate sip of wine. You catch a glint of amusement in Riddle’s eyes as well. Even he seems to be enjoying this trainwreck.

The heroine, though, refuses to let her utter lack of botanical knowledge slow her down. “Oh, well, I was just trying to emphasize how misunderstood they are! Like, did you know dandelion tea is supposed to help with digestion?”

You can’t help yourself. “Is that why you’ve been so full of it lately?”

There’s a loud snort from Cater, who quickly covers it up with a cough, but not before giving you an encouraging grin. Deuce’s shoulders shake as he tries to hold back laughter, while Ace is full-on grinning at the chaos you’re creating. Trey is still playing it cool, but you know he’s on the verge of losing it too.

Your sister pouts at you, her lower lip trembling like she’s about to burst into tears. Oh, here we go. The waterworks. But honestly, you’re not about to feel guilty for calling her out when she practically walked into it.

“You always have to be so mean to me,” she whines, her voice wobbling dramatically. “I was just trying to have a nice conversation!”

Your father, predictably, jumps to her defense. “Now, now,” he says, giving you a stern look. “There’s no need to be so harsh with your sister.”

Harsh? Oh, please. If this is what he considers harsh, he clearly hasn’t spent much time around actual harsh people. Not that you’re about to say that aloud, of course.

“Apologies, Father,” you say, trying to keep your tone as neutral as possible while still dripping with passive-aggression. “I’ll be sure to keep my comments to myself next time.” You pause for a beat, and then add with a pointed look, “Unless, of course, they’re about real flowers.”

Cater and Ace lose it, full-on laughing at this point, and Deuce isn’t far behind. Even Trey is chuckling softly into his drink.

And then—oh, wait, is that a smile on Riddle’s face?

It is.

Holy crap.

For the first time since this disaster of a dinner started, you see a genuine smile tugging at Riddle Rosehearts’ lips. It’s small, but it’s there. And it’s directed at you.

Well, well, well, you think. Who knew I’d get the tiniest bit of amusement out of the stoic redhead tonight?

Riddle’s mother, who has been sitting quietly at the head of the table this whole time, seems to notice as well. She raises an eyebrow at you, and while she doesn’t say anything, the slight nod of approval she gives is as close to praise as you’re ever going to get from her.

Meanwhile, your sister has resorted to dabbing her eyes with a napkin, and the third male lead looks like he’s about ready to crawl under the table and disappear. Honestly, with the way his face is turning red, you wouldn’t be surprised if he just bolted for the door.

As the heroine sniffles dramatically, trying to regain her composure, Riddle’s mother clears her throat. “Perhaps it’s time we moved on to the next course.”

You sit back in your chair, feeling rather pleased with yourself. You’ve always known how to work a room, but this? This was practically a performance art piece. A subtle roast of the dinner party’s most insufferable members, all without breaking a sweat.

Trey gives you a subtle thumbs-up from across the table, Cater is still grinning like an idiot, and Ace is wiping tears from his eyes. Even Deuce looks like he’s enjoying himself more than usual.

And Riddle? He’s still smiling.

All in all, you’d call this a successful dinner.

"System: +100 points"

Villain Points: 200

You reached a compromise with the system during a mind numbingly boring tea party. You were doing your best to sit there with a polite smile plastered on your face while your sister droned on about her latest dress, but all you could think about was the fact that there were probably better uses of your time—like, say, literally anything else. Maybe you could fake a sudden illness and make a run for it? Or trip over a conveniently placed teacup and disappear into the shrubbery?

And that’s when you heard it.

"System: New Quest—Make it through this tea party without falling asleep. Reward: Not looking like a complete fool."

You almost snorted out loud, but quickly caught yourself. Great, the system is back at it again with these stellar rewards.

Gee, thanks, system. Truly motivating stuff.

"System: Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something better? How about I throw in 50 Villain Points?"

Your eyes widened. Wait, 50 Villain Points just for not dozing off during this boring nonsense?

"System: Well, technically, you just have to stay awake. I never said you couldn’t look bored out of your mind."

You grinned slightly, trying to hide your amusement behind your teacup. You’re starting to grow on me, you know that?

"System: Likewise. I must say, I didn’t expect someone like you to actually stick with me this long. Most people would’ve either ignored me or gotten themselves killed by now. But you? You’ve got potential."

Aw, stop, you’re gonna make me blush.

"System: I’m serious! You’ve got guts. You think outside the box. You’re not afraid to bend the rules a little. And that’s why I’ve got a proposition for you."

You leaned back in your chair, intrigued. Oh? Go on, I’m listening.

"System: Here’s the deal—I’ll start giving you quests that aren’t designed to get you killed or humiliated beyond repair. In exchange, you have to promise to actually follow through on them. And I don’t mean half-heartedly—I want 100% commitment. Deal?"

Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you’ve been giving me death traps this whole time?

System: Well… not death traps, per se. More like… character-building exercises.

I swear to God, system, if you ever make me fight a rabid chicken again—

"System: That chicken was a necessary evil! Character development! But fine, fine. No more chickens. Only reasonable, non-lethal missions from now on. What do you say? Partners in villainy?"

You tapped your chin, pretending to mull it over. Hmmm… sounds tempting. But what’s in it for me besides the joy of your sparkling company?

"System: Oh, you know, the usual—power, influence, fame, and fortune. Plus, I’ll throw in some juicy blackmail material for when your sister inevitably gets on your nerves again."

Your grin widened. Now that is the kind of offer I can’t refuse.

"System: That’s the spirit! Now, first mission as my official partner: Sabotage your sister’s next grand entrance. Nothing too catastrophic—just a little stumble, maybe some ruffled feathers. Keep it classy."

And just like that, you and the system were officially besties. It was weirdly comforting knowing you had a sarcastic AI watching your back—and occasionally messing with your enemies. Sure, it might’ve been the weirdest friendship ever forged in the history of villainy, but hey, you’d take it. You’d never be bored again with this delightful chaos agent in your corner.

As you left the tea party with your head held high, the system chimed in one last time.

"System: By the way, next time your sister brags about her shoes? “Accidentally” mention that those went out of fashion last season."

You smirked. Oh, system, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

+50 points, + 1 extremely powerful ally.

Villain points: 250

It was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon. You had gone into the library looking for a quiet place to relax after a long day of trying to stay out of family drama. But of course, there was Riddle, hunched over a mountain of books with his hands gripping his hair like it had personally wronged him. Not to mention, your sister was sitting nearby, yammering on about… something. Something that was definitely not helping Riddle’s clear state of panic.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes locked with his, and in that instant, you could practically hear his brain screaming for help. It was a silent plea, one you couldn’t ignore.

With a sigh and a bit of a smirk, you sauntered over, interrupting your sister’s endless tirade about her latest frivolous pursuit. “Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you said brightly, grabbing Riddle by the arm and pulling him up from his chair before he could protest.

Your sister blinked at you, clearly thrown off by your sudden intrusion. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of an important conversation—”

“Were you though?” You raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure Riddle needs a break. He’s been studying for hours, right?” You didn’t wait for an answer, instead giving Riddle a quick nudge. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

To your relief (and amusement), Riddle offered no resistance, letting you whisk him away from the library and your sister’s insufferable voice.

Once you were safely in one of the quieter gardens, Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how much more of that I could’ve handled. Thank you.”

“No problem. Honestly, I did it for my own sanity too,” you chuckled, leading him to a bench under a shady tree. “But seriously, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Riddle’s face flushed a bit as he glanced away. “I’ve been… focused. There’s a lot to cover.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you replied dryly, nudging him to sit down. “But if you don’t rest, you’re going to burn out. Even someone like you can’t run on fumes forever.”

He hesitated for a moment but eventually sat down, clearly too tired to argue. “I suppose you’re right…”

Riddle leaned back against the bench, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. You thought he’d sit there for a few minutes, maybe catch his breath, and that’d be it.

Except he didn’t just catch his breath.

Nope.

Instead, Riddle Rosehearts, the pristine, perfectly poised model student… fell asleep on your shoulder.

And you? You froze.

Oh no.

Oh God.

What do I do?!

Your mind spiraled as you sat there, staring at the top of his bright red head resting comfortably against you. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against your side, his quiet, steady breathing, the softness of his hair—

Wait. Why is his hair so soft? It’s like spun silk.

Does he use some kind of magic conditioner? Should I ask him for hair care tips?

No, focus! Focus!

You peeked down at him again, and he looked so peaceful, his usual stern expression completely relaxed. You could feel your heart racing, and the logical part of your brain screamed at you to keep it together, but the other half—the half that was currently hyper-aware of Riddle’s head resting on your shoulder—was completely losing it.

Is this what bliss feels like? Is this how people write poems? “Oh Riddle, how thou art like the setting sun, warm and brilliant yet—WAIT, what am I thinking?! I am losing my mind! THIS IS BAD!

But also… very, very good?

You glanced around nervously, wondering if someone might see this. Would this look weird to people? Am I weird for not moving? I can’t move. He’s asleep. If I move, he’ll wake up and think I’m a weirdo for staying so still and letting him nap on me like this. Oh God, what if he thinks I’m weird?!

But even as your brain launched into a full-blown existential crisis, you couldn’t deny how nice this felt. Riddle looked so soft—so vulnerable—and for once, he wasn’t burdened by the weight of expectations or responsibilities. He was just… Riddle. And that made something inside you feel oddly tender.

Your gaze softened as you looked at him. Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe I could get used to this. Maybe—

Then, without warning, Riddle stirred, shifting slightly before blinking his eyes open. He looked groggy for a second, but as soon as he realized where he was—where you were—his entire face turned scarlet.

“Ah!” he gasped, jerking upright. “I—! I didn’t mean to—! I—!”

You blinked at him, trying very hard to pretend that you hadn’t just gone through a whole mental rollercoaster while he was napping. “Uh… it’s fine. You were tired. Happens to the best of us.”

He quickly straightened his uniform, flustered beyond belief. “That was… highly inappropriate. I apologize. You must think I’m terribly uncouth.”

“Nah,” you said with a grin, waving him off. “You’re a hard worker. Even someone like you deserves a break.”

Riddle looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. “Still, I shouldn’t have—"

You laughed and patted his shoulder. “Relax. It was kinda cute, honestly.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, his blush deepening. “C-cute?”

Realizing what you just said, your face turned bright red. “Uh, yeah, like… in a respectable, admirable way, obviously! Because, you know, falling asleep is… healthy… and stuff.”

From behind you, you heard Ace’s familiar snicker, and you turned to see him and Deuce standing there, both of them with identical grins.

“You’re totally simping,” Ace teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my God, go away.”

Riddle coughed, straightening his back and trying very hard to regain his composure. “Ahem. I think I’ll… return to my studies. Thank you again for helping me earlier.”

He stood up, still looking mildly mortified, but as he walked away, you caught the faintest smile on his lips.

Ace elbowed you with a grin. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, your face still burning as you watched Riddle leave.

But deep down, you couldn’t stop smiling either.

You sit at the breakfast table, staring at the notification hovering just above your coffee.

"System: New Quest: Get your sister to humiliate herself in front of the Empress. Reward: 100 Villain Points."

Your sister, ever the radiant queen of smugness, lounges at the other end, flipping her hair like she’s about to step onto a runway. Her latest self-important monologue about being 'practically irreplaceable' in the Empress’s inner circle grates at your nerves.

“What’s with the face?” Ace flops into the seat next to you, raising an eyebrow at your sudden, murderous glare.

Deuce, ever the responsible one, follows, setting down his tray with a clink. “You alright? You’ve been quiet.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “I got stuck with… a task.”

Ace snickers. “What, the world’s worst chore or something?”

You glance at your sister, now preening at her reflection in a spoon, and mutter, “Worse. I need to make her humiliate herself in front of the Empress.”

Both Ace and Deuce freeze, staring at you in disbelief.

Ace nearly snorts his drink. “You—wait, what? You have to do that?” His eyes practically light up. “That’s hilarious.”

Deuce, always the voice of reason, frowns. “Why do you need to do that? That sounds kinda… extreme.”

You sigh, trying to keep it vague. “Let’s just say... it’s a long story. But trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

Ace leans back, grinning like he’s just been given front-row tickets to the chaos. “Oh, I am so in. We have to take down the drama queen? Say no more.”

Deuce hesitates, but after a glance at your sister—who’s loudly bragging about her upcoming meeting with the Empress—he sighs. “I guess if it’s for a good cause... she could use a little humility.”

“Perfect.” You clap your hands together, a plan already forming. “But it has to look natural. No obvious sabotage.”

Ace smirks. “You say that like I’m not an expert in ‘subtle.’”

The banquet is set in a lavish garden, with your sister already dressed in the most elaborate gown she could find. She looks like she’s ready to steal the spotlight—and she fully intends to. But you’re three steps ahead. As you, Ace, and Deuce trail behind her, you start whispering the plan. “She always does that thing where she stands up to give a toast in front of everyone, right?”

Deuce nods. “Yeah, she loves being the center of attention.”

You glance at Ace. “Think you can handle making sure her ‘center of attention’ moment doesn’t go as planned?”

Ace grins wickedly. “Leave it to me.”

Your sister, in all her glittering glory, steps up to the platform. The Empress and her courtiers watch on, curious, while your sister clears her throat, preparing to launch into one of her legendary speeches.

Ace winks at you, positioning himself near the platform’s support. With the lightest nudge, it shifts, just enough to unbalance your sister. As she stands, her heel catches on the uneven surface.

Her eyes widen. “Wha—?”

And down she goes, arms flailing dramatically as she tumbles straight into a nearby fountain.

There’s a collective gasp from the crowd, and the Empress looks mildly surprised as water splashes everywhere. Your sister, soaked and sputtering, looks utterly mortified.

Ace bites his lip to keep from laughing. “Oops.”

Deuce winces but nods. “Well... that worked.”

You can’t help the satisfied smirk tugging at your lips as your system pings again.

"System: Quest Complete. Reward: 100 Villain Points."

“Perfect,” you murmur under your breath, already thinking about the next quest.

As your sister sputters her way out of the fountain, dripping wet and desperately trying to regain her composure, the crowd falls into an awkward silence. You can practically hear her brain scrambling to salvage the moment.

She forces a bright smile, pushing wet hair out of her face. “Well, that was… unexpected,” she says, laughing nervously. “I suppose even the most poised among us can have a moment of... gracelessness”

The Empress raises a perfectly arched brow, but remains silent, watching with a cool, unreadable expression.

Your sister, in her panic, decides to fill the silence with her usual brand of arrogance. “I’m sure someone will fix that platform,” she says, waving a hand dismissively at the servants. “Honestly, who would set up something so poorly constructed? I could’ve been seriously hurt!” She glances at the Empress and adds, in a misguided attempt to flatter, “But of course, I suppose even the Empress’s court isn’t immune to such… minor mistakes.”

Ace and Deuce both freeze. Your stomach drops.

The Empress’s lips tighten just slightly, a subtle but dangerous shift. “Minor mistakes?” she repeats, her voice icy and sharp.

Your sister, utterly clueless, laughs again, louder this time, still trying to brush it off. “Oh, of course, not your fault, Your Majesty. I’m sure your staff just… overlooked something. It happens, right?”

The crowd’s collective inhale is deafening. Even Deuce slaps a hand to his forehead, muttering, “Oh no…”

Ace looks like he’s about to choke trying to hold back his laughter. “She’s done,” he whispers gleefully.

The Empress finally stands, her gaze narrowing on your sister. “I assure you,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “such oversights are very rare in my court.”

Your sister opens her mouth to respond, but there’s no coming back from this. The Empress has already turned away, addressing one of her advisors with a wave of dismissal. Your sister is left standing there, soaked and utterly humiliated, in front of everyone.

As the system pings again in your head— "System: Bonus Quest Complete: Cause a Major Faux Pas. Reward: 50 Villain Points"—you can’t help but smirk.

"Well," Ace leans in, whispering, "mission accomplished."

As you watch your sister fumble through an awkward curtsy, trying to salvage what little dignity she has left, the familiar ping of the system goes off in your head again—but this time, it sounds... different.

"Villain System: Achievement Unlocked—Total Disaster;

Reward: 50 Villain Points + Bonus Perk!"

Before you can fully register the notification, the system continues, breaking its usual monotone, deadpan style.

"System: Honestly..." there's a brief pause, like it's trying to hold back a laugh. "I have to hand it to you. This... this was beautiful. I mean, wow, top-tier humiliation. The look on her face? Priceless. I didn’t think you had it in you to pull off such magnificent chaos so effortlessly. Not to mention the insult to the Empress."

Another chuckle—this time, you can feel it reveling in the scene.

"System: You're really becoming quite the villain, huh? I’m almost impressed. Well, because you've reached a new level of villainy—and honestly, you’ve earned it—here’s a special perk. You hit 1,000 points, and I’ll give you an out. You can get rid of me. Completely. No more schemes, no more quests. Freedom from this system."

For a moment, you can barely believe it. The system’s offering you a way out?

"System: Oh, but until then, I’m not going anywhere. And really, wouldn’t it be a shame to stop now? You’re on such a roll."

You shake your head, but even you can't deny the chaos was a little satisfying. Your sister, now the talk of the court, dripping with embarrassment, is living proof of that.

"What's up?" Ace asks, glancing at you. "You look like you just won something."

"Yeah," you mutter under your breath, smirking. "Something like that."

Villain Points: 500. 500 points to freedom.

The test results had come out earlier today and Riddle had topped it, as usual. But he was not allowed to come celebrate with the rest of you, which has led here.

It’s late at night, and the manor is quiet—eerily quiet, except for the soft rustling of leaves outside Riddle's window. You stand beneath the window with a strawberry tart in your hands, feeling very much like a strange version of a fairy-tale hero. Except, instead of rescuing a damsel in distress, you're here to sneak contraband dessert to an overworked boy whose mother monitors his sugar intake like a hawk.

"Riddle!" you whisper-shout up to the second floor. "Let down your hair—uh, I mean, your bedsheets!"

There’s a pause before Riddle’s head pops out of the window, confused but intrigued. "What are you doing out there? It’s late."

"Shhh!" You gesture for him to keep it down, holding up the tart like it’s some sort of forbidden treasure. "I brought you a strawberry tart. Your mom might have banned it, but we live dangerously in this house."

Riddle’s eyes widen, and for a moment, you think he might actually tear up. "You... You risked sneaking a tart past Mother... for me?" He looks genuinely touched, and you can see the internal battle raging between his desire to stay obedient and his deep, insatiable love for strawberry tarts.

"Yes, I am willing to defy the Tart Tyrant for you," you say, nodding solemnly. "Now hurry up and lower the bedsheets before she finds out and decides to have me beheaded for dessert-related treason."

Riddle hesitates for just a second, but the lure of the forbidden pastry is too strong. After a moment, he vanishes from the window, only to return with a neatly tied set of bedsheets. He throws them down like some kind of serious, rule-abiding Rapunzel.

You take a second to appreciate the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, then quickly tie the tart to the end of the sheet rope. “Alright, here comes the goods!” You give the bedsheets a tug to let him know the package is secured.

With a little effort, Riddle pulls up the tart with the same solemnity you’d expect if he were receiving an ancient royal artifact instead of sugar-laden contraband. He gingerly unties the tart and holds it in his hands, staring at it like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

You then somehow use the bedsheets to get up there too. Wow maybe you are truly a fairy-tale hero.

"You truly are remarkable," Riddle says, his voice soft with gratitude. He turns his gaze toward you with such an earnest expression that you suddenly feel self-conscious.

You wave him off, trying to play it cool. "Eh, it's nothing. Just saving you from a tartless existence."

But instead of saying anything, Riddle leans down and, with the utmost care and sincerity, presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, like some sort of old-fashioned gentleman. "Thank you," he murmurs.

And that’s when it happens.

Your brain shuts down. Completely. Like someone pulled the plug on your thoughts and left you staring blankly into space. The only thing running through your head is static. You don't even register the tart anymore. Did he just—? Did Riddle Rosehearts just—?

You short-circuit so hard that your mouth moves, but nothing coherent comes out. “Guh... buh... uh...” Great. So much for playing it cool.

Riddle, ever the gentleman, doesn’t seem to notice your malfunction, as he’s too busy taking the tiniest, most delicate bite of the tart, savoring it like he’s trying to make it last forever. "Delicious," he whispers, clearly over the moon.

Meanwhile, you’re still stuck on the whole hand kiss thing. Did that actually just happen? Did you fall into an alternate reality? Is this still the same planet?

Ace is going to have a field day with this.

"Uh, well... goodnight!" You finally manage to blurt out before spinning on your heel and power-walking away, almost jumping off the balcony instead of climbing down, mentally screaming at yourself for turning into a malfunctioning robot over a simple gesture. You hear Riddle chuckle softly behind you, a sound that somehow makes your heart do a weird little flip, and then his window quietly closes.

The whole way back to your room, you're fighting off the most embarrassing grin. Maybe this little night mission was worth it after all—short circuits and all.

The next morning, you wake up to a new notification from your ever-so-charming system.

"Villain System: New Quest—Make the heroine cry and win the baking competition. Reward: 100 Villain Points"

You stare at the message, blinking. Make the heroine cry? That’s one thing, but… win the baking competition? You don’t even bake.

"System: Oh, did I forget to mention? The heroine has won every year because it’s women-only, and the original villainess didn’t care about trivial things like baking. Now she’s got a free pass to victory—unless, of course, you do something about it."

You roll your eyes. Right, of course. But then, an idea hits you. Trey. Who needs to bake when you know the one person who could win with his eyes closed?

In this kingdom’s prestigious baking competition, there's one important loophole: while only women are allowed to officially compete, each contestant is permitted a single helper. Of course, most participants choose their helpers from other women to maintain the spirit of the tradition. However, there’s nothing in therules that says it has to be a woman.

The heroine, ever the strategic darling, has chosen none other than the Sixth Male Lead as her helper—an aspiring nobleman known for his meticulous manners and refined taste. His calm demeanor and careful attention to detail make him a safe bet, and you overhear the heroine boasting that, with his assistance, her victory is all but guaranteed.

Yeah, not this year.

Instead of following tradition, you’ve asked Trey to be your helper. Trey Clover—renowned for his skill in the kitchen, and quite possibly the one person who could bake the heroine’s smug little plans into pie. The original villainess never cared enough to bother with this competition, which gave the heroine free rein. But now? Now she has to face you, and by extension, Trey.

And Trey Clover doesn’t play for second place when it comes to sweets.

Later that day, you find Trey in the gardens, tending to some herbs. He looks up, giving you that calm, friendly smile. "Need something?"

"Yeah, actually. There’s a baking competition coming up," you say nonchalantly, "and I need to win."

Trey raises an eyebrow. "I thought it was women-only?"

You shrug. "It is, but I thought you could, you know, help me win."

He chuckles, brushing some dirt off his hands. "What kind of help are we talking?"

"Let's just say," you grin, "we’ll be making a dessert so good that even the Empress and Emperor will swoon. And if sister dearest happens to cry... well, that's just a bonus."

Trey looks amused but intrigued. "Alright, I’m in. Let’s see what we can whip up."

The day of the competition arrives, and as expected, the heroine is floating around the kitchen like she owns the place. You catch a glimpse of her smug smile as she arranges her ingredients, clearly confident that victory is hers.

Little does she know.

You and Trey work quietly, making an intricate dessert that smells so good even the judges start peeking over your shoulder. It’s a delicate mille-feuille with layers of crisp pastry, rich cream, and fresh fruit, and the entire hall is already filled with its tantalizing aroma.

"Are you sure you want to go this hard?" Trey asks, smirking as he plates the dessert. "This might be overkill."

You laugh. "Overkill is the goal."

As the competition moves forward, you notice the heroine starting to fidget. Her confidence wavers when she sees your masterpiece, and by the time judging begins, she’s outright glaring at you.

The Empress and Emperor sit at the head of the table, and when your dessert is placed in front of them, you watch as they take a bite. First, there’s silence. Then, the Empress closes her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.

The Emperor leans back, sighing deeply. "This... this is incredible."

Even the Prince, sitting beside them, takes a bite and pauses. He leans in toward you with a subtle smile. "Such talent... A skillful partner would be quite the asset to the royal family."

You raise an eyebrow but smile politely.

"While I appreciate the compliment, Your Highness, I’m not interested in marriage at the moment. My hands are quite full with other matters."

The Prince looks mildly disappointed, but the Empress shoots him a warning glance, and he wisely backs off. You can feel the heroine seething from across the room.

Then, Riddle, who’s been observing the competition from the side, steps up to taste your creation. He takes a small, cautious bite—and his entire face lights up. His normally stern expression softens, and he looks so genuinely pleased that you can’t help but feel a little flustered yourself. Who knew Riddle could be this cute?

"This is... delightful," he says quietly, and for a moment, you forget about the competition entirely.

"Glad you like it," you say, your voice a little softer than you intended.

Ace nudges you from the side, wiggling his eyebrows. "You blushing? Never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut up," you hiss back, feeling your face heat up even more.

Meanwhile, the heroine, who has been watching the whole scene, looks on the verge of tears. As the judges declare you the winner, she loses her composure entirely and storms out of the hall, sniffling dramatically.

Ace bursts into laughter. "Wow, you really made her cry, huh? I’m loving this!"

Deuce, more concerned, pats you on the back. "Well... at least you won the competition?"

You smirk, satisfied. "Yeah, I’d say that went pretty well."

As you leave the competition hall, your system chimes in again.

"Villain System: Quest complete! 100 Villain Points awarded."

"System: I’ll be honest. I wasn’t expecting you to fluster Riddle like that, but hey, bonus points for making the Prince back off too. Well played. +25 points"

Villain Points: 625. 375 points left till freedom.

You had to do something about the funny little flips your heart did when you even dared to glance at Riddle and so here you were, dramatically declaring a “Strategy Meeting” with Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce. You had even assigned roles—like some kind of overly elaborate battle plan—because, in your mind, this was war. And the enemy? Your increasingly uncontrollable feelings for a certain redheaded, rule-abiding, perfectionist nobleman.

You stood at the head of the table like a general ready to command the troops, but instead of warriors, you had your collection of questionable allies. Trey and Cater were lounging comfortably, while Ace and Deuce seemed entirely too excited about the prospect of scheming.

“Alright,” you began, pacing in front of the group. “Here’s the deal. I think I like Riddle.”

You were met with silence at first. Then, Ace broke into the most ridiculous grin. “Pfft, of course you do. You’ve been mooning over him for weeks now. Congratulations on finally catching up to reality!”

Deuce elbowed him. “Hey, don’t make fun of them! It’s... uh... commendable that you’re so serious about it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile, like you were some kind of lovesick puppy.

Cater, who had been leaning back casually in his chair, gave you a teasing wink. “Aww, our little villain is going soft. I guess all that sneaking tarts and saving him from certain doom finally got to you, huh?”

Trey, ever the calm and rational one, simply folded his arms and gave you a small smile. “Well, it makes sense. You two have spent a lot of time together. He’s... a good guy. A bit high-strung, but good.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is not helpful. I need a plan, people! Riddle’s mom already thinks I’m a conniving little troublemaker—how am I supposed to make a good impression while also, you know... not being painfully awkward around him?”

Ace raised his hand dramatically like you were in the middle of a classroom. “Simple solution: you don’t. Just be yourself. He’s already used to your brand of chaos. Besides, you already saved him from his mom’s sugar ban, so I’d say you’re ahead of the game.”

Deuce nodded, adding, “Yeah! Plus, you’re like, really smart and cool, so... you’ve got this!”

“Okay, so,” Cater piped in, “in terms of strategy, you could always stage some grand gesture. I mean, Riddle’s all about tradition and propriety, right? What if you—”

Suddenly, a voice interrupted from behind you. “What are you all plotting now?”

You froze, spinning around to see none other than your mother, the Duchess, standing in the doorway with an amused look on her face. She had an uncanny talent for sneaking up on people.

“M-Mother! I, uh... it’s nothing serious. We’re just—”

She raised an eyebrow, cutting off your fumbling explanation with a wave of her hand. “If you’re scheming about Riddle Rosehearts, dear, you could use a bit more refinement. Fortunately for you, I’ve decided to assist.”

“Wait, what?” You blinked at her, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath you. “You’re... helping me?”

She gave you a knowing smile. “Well, it’s about time someone showed that other daughter of mine what true charm looks like. You’ve always been the more intelligent one.”

“Uh... thanks?” You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that.

Without another word, your mother turned to the butler who had been standing in the hallway. “Make sure everything is in place for dinner tonight. And do make certain the maids are aware of our... little plans.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler replied with a subtle bow before whisking away.

You stared after him, feeling both flustered and slightly panicked. “Mother... what are you planning?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s nothing too drastic. Just a little adjustment to how tonight’s dinner will go.”

That evening, you found yourself at the weekly gathering/dinner, sitting at the long, ornate table alongside your parents, Riddle, his mother, and—unfortunately—your sister, who was already droning on about some utterly mundane topic that only she could make sound self-important.

And then, the plan began.

The maids moved around the table, loudly discussing their work. "Oh, our youngest lady is always so kind to us, isn't she? Such a breath of fresh air!"

"Yes, yes," another maid replied with an exaggerated nod. "And always so intelligent! Did you hear how she handled that situation at the garden party? Simply remarkable!"

Riddle’s mother perked up at the praise, her sharp gaze cutting from the maids to you, her expression intrigued. Your sister, on the other hand, looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel.

The butler, who had been refilling glasses, suddenly spoke up as well. "Ah, I must say, our young miss has shown extraordinary grace and poise recently. A true future lady of the house, if I may be so bold."

You were mortified. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you desperately tried to shrink into your seat. This was not what you had planned. You could feel Riddle’s eyes on you, and you were certain you were about to pass out from sheer embarrassment.

Your sister, however, could not stay silent. “Excuse me?” she snapped. “I don’t know what all this nonsense is about, but—”

But the maids and butler kept going, seemingly oblivious to her anger. "Indeed, I can’t think of anyone more suited to such a role!" one of the maids declared.

Riddle’s mother hummed thoughtfully, clearly impressed by the blatant—and likely orchestrated—praise. “It is quite rare to find such well-rounded young women these days,” she mused, looking at you with a glint of approval in her eyes. “Perhaps I should consider the advantages of such a match after all.”

You nearly choked on your drink. Riddle, across from you, was staring at his plate like he was trying to become one with it. He looked both horrified and... pleased? Maybe?

And just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, Ace—because of course, it had to be Ace—leaned over and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Hey, at least you know Riddle's mom doesn’t hate you anymore. Progress!”

You shot him a glare, but the damage was done. Everyone at the table had heard, and Riddle’s mother raised a curious eyebrow at you both. You could practically feel Riddle sinking further into his seat.

The dinner continued with more awkward small talk, with your mother throwing in subtle digs at your sister’s lack of... everything, while you tried your hardest not to combust from sheer humiliation.

But hey—if nothing else, at least Riddle wasn’t the only one who felt like he needed to escape to the nearest corner. Small victories, right?

"System: Quest: Make Riddle Say Something Mean to Your Sister. Reward: 100 Points"

The system pings you with the next quest, and you almost laugh out loud. Get Riddle to say something mean to your sister? The guy whose idea of an insult is reminding someone to follow the rules more carefully? You know this’ll be near impossible—his mother raised him to be the picture of etiquette and politeness.

But, then again, opportunity tends to strike when you least expect it, and with your villain system, those moments come with a bit of flair.

It all starts innocently enough: horseback riding. You’re a natural at it, of course, and as you effortlessly guide your horse around the course, your sister glares at you from the sidelines, arms crossed.

"Oh, how shocking," she drawls loud enough for everyone to hear. "A masculine activity. How unbecoming for a lady."

Before you can snap back, someone else beats you to it. "That's funny, I quite like horseback riding too," The Empress says, her voice as polite as ever but with just enough edge to make your darling sister freeze.

And when Riddle adds that he also enjoys horseback riding, you almost snort. Of course, he does. Riddle would have to enjoy something that involves strict rules and perfect posture.

Your sister's eyes flicker toward Riddle, suddenly aware that insulting horseback riding is not the wisest move when he is within earshot. She stammers, trying to recover. "I—I mean, I didn’t say it was entirely inappropriate. It’s just—"

You just stare at her, subtly challenging her to continue. And she takes the bait.

Sensing an opportunity to show off, your sister decides to prove she’s good at it too. "I’ll show you how a real lady rides a horse," she declares, moving to mount the closest horse. The horse, sensing the storm of bad vibes radiating from your sister, immediately snorts and takes a few steps back.

“See, even the horse knows better,” Ace mutters behind you, earning a chuckle from Deuce. You can’t help but grin.

Your sister’s attempt to get on the horse is nothing short of a disaster. Her foot slips, her balance is off, and the horse finally has enough. In one swift move, it bucks her off before she’s even properly seated, sending her tumbling to the ground in an undignified heap.

For a second, there's stunned silence. Then, in true ‘sister’ fashion, she gets up, furious and embarrassed, and hits the horse on the flank.

Oh no. She did not just hit the horse.

Riddle’s face turns red—not his usual "I’m about to scold you" red, but the kind of red that suggests a leviathan-level insult has just taken place. "What are you doing?" he snaps, shocking everyone in earshot. Even you pause, surprised.

You quickly recover, barely holding back your grin. You can already feel the points tallying up.

"That was completely uncalled for," Riddle continues, his voice icy. "You should apologize to the horse."

Your sister sputters, clearly not used to being reprimanded by someone like Riddle.

"I—I didn’t—"

"Violence toward an innocent animal," the Emperor chimes in from his observation point, his tone dripping with disapproval. "Disgraceful behavior."

The Imperial Princess, who has been watching with her arms crossed, gives a snort of laughter. "Well, clearly not everyone can handle themselves with grace on horseback."

Your sister looks like she’s about to implode, her cheeks burning redder than Riddle's hair. "I didn’t mean—"

"Please," Riddle says, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. "Let’s not make this any worse for yourself."

The system pops up again with a cheeky little message.

"+25 bonus points: The system respects that level of carnage. Well done."

Honestly, even you can’t help but respect the sheer scale of the damage your sister just managed to cause to her own reputation in a matter of minutes.

Riddle, who’s usually the epitome of control, saying something that mean? The Emperor, the Imperial Princess, and the Empress all scolding her? It’s a beautiful mess, and you’ll take the points with a smile.

Villain Points: 750. 150 points left till freedom

You’re lounging in the courtyard, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when chaos inevitably strikes. You don’t know why you thought you could have a quiet afternoon without something going wrong. The universe must have you on its watchlist, and today, it decided to throw a wrench in the form of Deuce Spade sprinting across the courtyard, holding a goose under his arm like some kind of barnyard Olympian.

The goose then shows a surprising amount of athleticism and manages to pivot in his arms and jump down.

“GET BACK HERE, YOU FEATHERED MENACE!” Ace screams behind him, waving what looks like a loaf of bread. You raise an eyebrow, confused but intrigued. “Uh… do I even want to know?”

“They’re trying to catch the Duchess’s prized goose,” Cater pipes up, appearing out of nowhere. “It escaped from the coop. Again.”

You squint at the scene unfolding before you, watching as Deuce trips over a bush, while grabbing its tail, sending both himself and the goose tumbling to the ground, feathers everywhere. The goose immediately makes a break for it, flapping wildly in your direction. You can’t help it—some deep, misguided instinct kicks in. You blame your duel with the chicken of doom. Must help friends! Must catch rogue poultry!

You leap to your feet, determination surging through you. This is it. This is your time to shine. You throw yourself at the goose, diving for it like a soccer goalie saving the game-winning shot.

And you miss. Not just miss—you whiff it entirely. Instead, you skid along the ground, getting a face full of dirt and grass. The goose, clearly uninterested in whatever heroic save you were attempting, runs straight towards the nearby rose bushes, where Riddle is calmly reading a book.

“Got it!” you yell, trying to recover from your very undignified position. You scramble to your feet and sprint towards the goose, not thinking—absolutely no thoughts—just vibes and feathers.

“STOP THAT GOOSE!” you hear Deuce shout, which only makes you run faster.

But then… things go wrong. Horribly, hilariously wrong.

The goose, in a feat of poultry acrobatics, launches itself directly at Riddle. In a panic, you leap towards them, determined to protect Riddle from the poultry projectile. Unfortunately, in your zeal to save him, you overestimate your athletic prowess, launching yourself way too high and way too fast.

You soar right over the rose bushes. For a brief, glorious moment, you feel like you’re flying. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun.

And then gravity kicks in.

You crash into Riddle, knocking his book out of his hands as you both go down in a very undignified heap. Riddle lets out a startled yelp, and you’re pretty sure your entire life flashes before your eyes in that split second.

When the dust settles, you’re on the ground, somehow tangled up with both Riddle and the goose, who looks mildly offended by this whole debacle. You can barely process the pain in your elbow because, oh no—you’ve just tackled Riddle Rosehearts in broad daylight. You’re doomed. Absolutely doomed.

Riddle, red-faced and thoroughly flustered, pushes himself up, brushing stray feathers off his jacket. “What in the world…?”

“I, uh… was trying to help?” you say weakly, still half-sprawled on the ground with the goose now comfortably perched on your back, like some sort of bizarre poultry crown.

Before Riddle can reply, Ace and Deuce finally catch up, breathless and thoroughly amused by the sight before them.

“Nice one!” Ace cackles, doubling over with laughter. “I didn’t think you’d go for the full-on tackle!”

“Yeah, wow,” Deuce adds, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “Really… really brave of you. Or maybe just… really dumb?”

Cater, meanwhile, is gleefully giggling during the entire thing. "I can’t believe you almost took out Riddle over a goose!” Riddle glares at them, cheeks still a furious shade of pink. “This is not funny. Someone could have been hurt!”

You finally manage to sit up, the goose still somehow perched atop your shoulder. You look up at Riddle, giving him a sheepish grin. “Uh, well… thanks for breaking my fall?”

Riddle huffs, brushing dirt off his sleeves as he stands. “Next time, please consider not risking your life over poultry.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Riddle,” Cater teases, still giggling. “Our hero here just wanted to protect you from the fierce Goose of Doom!”

Riddle shoots him a glare that could melt ice.

Ace leans over, giving you an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Honestly, this is peak comedy. I can’t wait to see the look on Trey’s face when he hears about this.”

You groan, already feeling the embarrassment sink in. “Just… just help me up, please.”

Riddle offers you a hand, though he still looks like he’s debating whether to scold you or just cry. As he pulls you to your feet, the goose squawks indignantly, finally hopping off your shoulder to strut away, victorious.

“See?” Ace says, still grinning like a fool. “The goose is fine. No harm done.”

“No harm,” Riddle repeats, looking at you with a sigh. “Except perhaps to our dignity.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, your cheeks burning. “Yeah, well, dignity is overrated. At least we caught the goose… eventually.”

Riddle shakes his head, a small smile finally tugging at his lips. “Next time, let’s leave the heroics to someone a little more... suited for it, shall we?”

You nod, rubbing your sore elbow. “Deal. But if that goose comes at you again, I’m not making any promises.”

Riddle just shakes his head, turning away to pick up his book. And he takes your hand and ties a handkerchief around a scratch you didn’t even realize was bleeding. You can still hear the teasing laughs from Ace, Deuce, and Cater echoing in your ears, but you can’t help the grin that tugs at your own lips.

Yeah, you might’ve girlbossed a little too close to the sun today. But at least you made Riddle smile and he held your hand!(kinda) . And, well, the goose is still alive, so there’s that. Small victories.

"System: Quest: Become the Flower of the Ball. Reward: 50 Points"

The system's new quest pops up with a glorious ping—Become the Flower of the Ball. Easy enough, right? Except, of course, your sister has always held that title. The "Flower of the Ball" is not just the prettiest person at the event; it’s the one who commands the room, whose influence and elegance leave everyone talking for weeks. And you? Well, with Cater on your side, you’re about to change that.

First step: rumors. Cater helps you work your way through the gossip circuit like a seasoned pro. With just a few whispered suggestions here and there, you have half the ball convinced that you’ll be arriving in something that will make your sister’s dress look like an afterthought.

Next, your mother—who’s never liked your adopted sister, mainly because of your father's favouritism —does her part by pulling the strings and reserving the best tailor exclusively for you. Your sister? She’s stuck with second-rate options, fuming in the background. By the time you step into the ball, you look absolutely perfect. The dress is a masterpiece of fabric and sparkle, the kind that makes everyone’s heads turn the second you enter.

Cater sneaks by your side as you walk in. "Nailed it, babe," he whispers, giving you a wink. "They're already talking about how your dress makes you look like a literal god."

And indeed, the whispers from the crowd follow you like a wave. Mission accomplished.

Your sister, of course, tries to maintain her usual position of dominance. She’s chosen the 7th male lead as her escort—a decision that reeks of desperation since she couldn't snag a higher-ranked noble. You, meanwhile, had originally planned to attend with Ace and Deuce, they were your closest friends after all, just to keep things low-key. But before you can finalize that plan, Riddle appears, looking composed as ever, and offers you his arm.

"I thought it might be appropriate if you accompanied me," he says with a shy smile. "Since my fiancée has chosen to attend with someone else this evening."

You almost laugh. Of course, she has. She likely thought it would make her look more desirable, but now it's given you a perfect in. Going to the ball with Riddle is about as high-profile as it gets.

Your sister’s eyes widen the moment she sees you walk in with him. Her expression morphs into barely-contained outrage, but before she can say anything, another bomb drops.

Riddle’s mother—stern and poised as always—leans over to one of her confidantes and just loud enough for you and your sister to hear, says, "Well, perhaps this arrangement is for the best. It wouldn’t be surprising if we reconsider the sister for our families’ union."

Cue dramatic gasp.

Your sister’s face twists in horror, while the 7th male lead stands there, visibly confused as to why he’s even part of this drama. "What—what did she mean by that?!" your sister hisses, shooting daggers at you and Riddle.

You smile sweetly. "Oh, who knows? Perhaps she just appreciates my company more."

Before your sister can explode, the Imperial Princess herself enters the fray. Your sister, still seething, is barely holding it together when she steps forward to greet the Princess, but her curtsey is sloppy. The Princess raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Hmm, interesting technique," she says coldly, her eyes flicking to you with approval as you execute your bow with flawless grace.

Your sister sputters, trying to recover, but it’s too late—the Princess’ interest is already elsewhere. The rest of the ball quickly follows suit, flocking to your side. Riddle, ever the gentleman, offers you a subtle smile as the room begins to orbit around you instead of your sister.

And then, like clockwork, your sister makes yet another blunder. This time, it’s with the cutlery at the dinner table. The 7th male lead awkwardly copies her, both of them managing to insult half the table in the process. You’d almost feel bad, but honestly, they’re making it too easy.

The system, naturally, is having the time of its life. "+25 points: Honestly, this is comedy gold. Extra points for the mess."

You flash a victorious smile, knowing that by the end of the night, you’ll be crowned as the new Flower of the Ball—your sister’s reign well and truly over.

Villain points: 825. 175 points to go.

Riddle wasn't quite sure when it happened. Maybe it had been a gradual realization, building slowly every time he saw you speak your mind with that sharp wit of yours, or maybe it was something that had struck him like a lightning bolt during a moment like this—watching you hold an entire room's attention, bright and confident in your own, distinct way.

You were just so... you. The way you spoke, that glint of mischief in your eyes whenever you were about to say something clever—it was entirely captivating. It was easy to see why people were drawn to you, why they wanted to bask in your energy.

Right now, you were standing near the center of the room, laughing animatedly as you shared some story with your friends. Your expression was full of life, each gesture adding color to your words, your smile lighting up the whole space. Riddle couldn’t help but find his gaze lingering on you, taking in every detail.

And then, out of nowhere, you turned your head, locking eyes with him across the room. For a split second, he felt his breath catch. He should look away, he told himself. But he couldn't. He was rooted in place as you spotted him.

Your face lit up even more—if that was even possible—and you raised your hand, giving him an enthusiastic wave, completely unabashed. There was something so genuine, so utterly you, in that wave. Your arm flailed just a little, and you were smiling so broadly, so openly, that you looked a little silly. But it didn’t matter.

Because, in that moment, Riddle felt something click into place. He might like you. He might like you quite a lot, actually.

Without even thinking, Riddle found himself waving back, a small smile creeping onto his face. He felt warm, a strange fluttering sensation settling in his chest. He probably looked ridiculous, waving with that soft, dazed look in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You gave him a thumbs-up, your grin widening, and Riddle had to stop himself from laughing. His heart was pounding in his chest now, a warmth creeping up his neck, and the realization hit him with startling clarity: you made him feel light. You made him feel... happy, in a way he hadn’t quite understood before.

He might have spent his whole life avoiding this kind of chaos, but when it came to you—when it came to your laughter, your brightness, your way of pulling him into your orbit—Riddle found he didn’t mind the chaos at all.

In fact, he was pretty sure he was completely smitten with it.

"Villain System: New Quest—Humiliate the heroine in front of the heir to the throne, the First Princess. Reward: 100 Villain Points"

You read the message and resist the urge to sigh. Your sister is a piece of work, sure, but the system really seems hellbent on making her your eternal punching bag. But hey, if the system insists… who are you to resist?

As luck would have it, the annual hunt is coming up—an event where the bachelors of the court go off into the woods to prove their worth, while the bachelorettes sit around and gossip like they're at an overpriced brunch. However, this year, the Imperial Princess, renowned master swordswoman and all-around terrifying person, has decided to spice things up by organizing a competition of swordsmanship for the ladies.

Before the hunt and the competition officially start, it's tradition for those not participating in the hunt to present charms to their loved ones—little tokens of affection and support to tie onto their swords before they charge off to slaughter things in the woods. It’s all very romantic, except, of course, when it’s you and your friends.

You've prepared four charms for Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce. Mostly because you know these four will be fighting like it's a matter of life or death (because, let's face it, it’s mostly about showing off at this point), and the least you can do is give them something to remind them not to do anything stupid and die.

You hand them out one by one, and each of them reacts in their own, very predictable way.

Cater takes his with a grin, twirling it between his fingers like it’s a prize from a carnival. "Aw, thanks, bestie! Now I have no choice but to win." He strikes a pose, charm held up as if he’s already envisioning the animal he's gonna get.

Deuce just flushes, taking the charm with both hands as if it's some sacred object. "I, uh, I’ll do my best!" he declares, looking both touched and slightly stressed by the responsibility you’ve just put on him.

Ace rolls his eyes, snatching his charm like you’ve just given him an extra chore. "Ugh, seriously? Now I gotta win for you?" He gives a dramatic sigh, but you can tell he’s secretly proud, especially with the way he ties it onto his sword with a flourish—making sure everyone nearby notices.

Trey, ever the gentleman, accepts his charm with a warm smile, nodding in thanks. "I appreciate it," he says, his tone so sincere you almost feel bad about how unserious the others are. "I'll try to bring back something worthy of this."

You wave them off with a grin. "Just try not to get yourselves killed, alright? I don’t need the guilt."

They nod, though Ace gives you a playful smirk. "No promises, but hey, if I survive, I'll owe you one."

You’re not entirely sure if that’s comforting, but at least they seem motivated... in their own, ridiculous way.

But then comes the surprise: Riddle. Normally, Riddle doesn’t accept charms from anyone. The whole court knows he rejects them all, your sister’s included, and it’s practically common knowledge that they’re engaged.

And yet, as you’re about to turn away, you feel someone tug gently on your sleeve.

You look back, and there’s Riddle, cheeks tinged pink, looking almost… shy? “I… noticed you hadn’t given me a charm,” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

Your heart skips a beat. Riddle? Asking you for a charm? You quickly pull out an extra special one you’d prepared just in case, trying not to look too smug as you hand it over. “Of course, I saved the best for last,” you tease.

He takes it with both hands, his blush deepening, and carefully ties it to his sword. "Thank you," he says, the sincerity in his voice making you feel just a little warm inside.

The time for the competition arrives after they leave and naturally, your sister finds this whole idea beneath her. Women should be "gentle and poised," she says, like she hasn’t spent the last three months practicing how to flutter her eyelashes in just the right way to ensnare the nearest man.

Then she makes a godawful comment. "I'm sure I'm better than everyone here anyways."

The Princess's eye twitches at your sister’s comment, and you can practically smell the impending doom. “Is that so?” she says, voice calm but sharp enough to cut glass. “Then perhaps you’d like to prove it.”

Your sister blinks, feigning innocence. “Oh, but Your Highness, you're a general, a dame, it would hardly be fair—”

“No, no,” you butt in, already feeling the villainous urge rising. You smile sweetly at the Princess, “I’ll do it.”

Your sister’s eyes widen, and you swear you see a flicker of fear. “You?”

“Yes, me.” You roll your wrist casually, like this is nothing. After all, you’ve been secretly training with your mother(a former knight) for weeks. And let’s be real—if you can endure her strict-as-hell lessons without fleeing for your life, your sister stands no chance.

The crowd of onlookers murmurs, excited at the prospect of some royal drama. The Princess smiles approvingly. “Very well. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

The competition begins, and your sister—oh, sweet, naive, overly-confident sister—struts up to the sparring ring like she’s about to breeze through this. She hasn’t even drawn her sword, too busy preening for the audience.

The Princess stands off to the side, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. “Whenever you’re ready,” she says dryly.

Your sister scoffs, finally drawing her sword with confidence that stems from absolutely nothing tangible.. “This won’t take long.”

It really doesn’t.

You sidestep her first swing with ease, and she fumbles, her balance thrown off. She’s clearly never sparred against anyone with any actual skill, and it shows. You suppress a laugh, offering her a mockingly sweet smile. “Having trouble?”

Her face flushes with anger, and she lunges again, this time with less grace and more brute force. You parry her strike effortlessly, spinning around her and tapping her shoulder lightly with your blade. “Point.”

The crowd gasps, and you can practically feel Riddle’s mother watching you with approval from her seat. Your sister glares at you, red-faced and flustered. “That was just luck,” she hisses.

“Sure,” you reply, twirling your sword for added flair. “Let’s see if your luck improves.”

Spoiler: it doesn’t.

By the end of the match, your sister is out of breath, red-faced, and thoroughly humiliated. You, on the other hand, haven’t even broken a sweat. The Princess claps her hands together, beaming. “Well done! I think that settles the matter.”

Your sister looks like she’s about to cry, and you can’t resist twisting the knife just a little. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before insulting women who actually know how to use a sword.”

The Princess snorts.

By the time the bachelors return from the hunt, everyone’s gathered around to see who brought back the biggest game. As expected, Ace and Deuce present their game to you: They’d both managed to snag huge wolves—both proud and slightly smug. Cater hands you his deer with a wink and a grin. Even Trey, with his calm composure, looks pleased as he hands over his bear.

And then, to everyone’s shock, Riddle approaches. He’s carrying what is clearly the biggest game of the day,a bear and a lion, and as he presents it to you, the whole crowd falls silent.

Your sister looks absolutely mortified. The other male leads, meanwhile, are either empty-handed or have brought back something pathetically small in comparison—a rabbit here, a pheasant there. But Riddle? Riddle has the prize catch, and he’s offering it to you, her sister who just humiliated her in front of the entire royal court.

The center of attention, you smile graciously as you accept the game, thanking him softly. The crowd erupts into whispers, all eyes on you and Riddle. Your sister looks like she wants to crawl into a hole and disappear, and you can’t help but feel just a little triumphant.

Meanwhile, the system chimes in:

"Villain System: Quest complete! 100 Villain Points awarded"

"Villain System: Bonus reward! 50 Villain Points awarded.

System: I wasn’t expecting you to charm all of the top hunters into giving you their game… but hey, overachieving is such a villainous trait. Well done."

You nearly roll your eyes at the system’s snarky tone. Of course it would reward you for accidentally out-villaining yourself. But hey, who’s going to complain about extra points?

Villain points: 975. 25 points to go, you're so close.

It was a peaceful afternoon in the garden, one of those rare moments where you and Riddle had a quiet space to just… exist. He was sitting across from you, his face slightly softened from its usual stern expression. The hedgehogs nearby were doing hedgehog things, oblivious to the world.

"I suppose it’s something I don’t talk about often," Riddle started, his voice softer than usual, like he was letting you into a part of himself he kept locked away. "My mother was strict—is strict. Everything had to be perfect. The rules, the grades, my behavior… there was no room for failure. Not even a sliver."

You nodded, already knowing this story from your countless hours reading the webnovel. But hearing it from him directly? It hit differently.

"I wasn't allowed to have friends or play outside. My entire childhood was about memorizing rules and doing things perfectly," he continued. His eyes stayed on the hedgehogs, but his expression grew distant, lost in the painful memories. "Every mistake I made was a punishment… every misstep was a disappointment."

You could feel the lump forming in your throat. Here it comes. The part that always got you while reading.

"But the worst part," Riddle whispered, his voice almost cracking, "was that I started to believe I wasn’t good enough… not for her, not for anyone."

That was it. The dam broke.

You tried to keep it together—you really did—but the sheer weight of Riddle’s story, the pain in his voice, it hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. You started sniffling. And then… it escalated.

You’re not just crying; you’re ugly crying. We’re talking snot, hiccups, the whole I-will-not-survive-this package.

And then, in between gasps, you suddenly blurt out, "I swear... I SWEAR, I’ll get revenge for you! No one will survive my wrath!" You shake your fist to the sky like you’re about to start a one-person war against his emotionally distant mother.

Riddle looks at you, eyes wide with shock. He hadn’t expected this. No one had. Not even you.

"Are you… are you crying?" he asked, sounding both bewildered and concerned, because let’s face it, you were making sounds that weren’t even human anymore. Somewhere between a hiccup, a wail, and a seal being slapped.

"Y-YES!" you sobbed, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, which didn’t help because now you just had tear-streaked sleeves and a snotty nose. "IT'S SO SAD!"

Riddle blinked, completely caught off-guard. “It’s… it’s not that—”

By this point, you were full-on hysterical, tears streaming down your face as you flailed around in righteous fury. Riddle just sat there, completely overwhelmed. He had expected maybe a few words of sympathy, a comforting pat on the shoulder. What he hadn't expected was for you to declare full-scale emotional war on his behalf.

Riddle, for his part, was speechless. And also… redder than his hair.

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "I… appreciate the sentiment, but—"

"No, Riddle!" you cut him off, wiping your nose aggressively with your sleeve again. "You deserve someone who loves you without conditions! And I’m going to make sure the world knows it!" You stood up dramatically, only to trip over a rock, stumble, and fall back into your seat. "Ow."

Riddle, despite the chaos, couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your sheer determination—and the fact that you were still crying while swearing vengeance. It was… endearing, in a very chaotic, unpredictable way.

You, however, were still in your feelings. "I can’t believe your mom! I’m—sniffle—gonna burn her rulebook. Watch me."

Riddle, who had started the conversation with the intention of sharing something personal, now found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions he didn’t know how to handle. But… somehow, through your teary declarations of revenge and your intense empathy, he couldn’t help but feel something stir inside him.

He looked at you—your face blotchy, your eyes puffy, your determination unwavering despite the fact that you were an absolute mess—and he realized that you weren’t crying just because you felt bad. You were crying because you cared. Like, really cared.

His heart skipped a beat. Maybe… maybe you were the kind of person who could see past all his rules and expectations and just—feel for him. No judgment. Just empathy.

"I… I didn’t realize it would make you so upset," he said quietly, a soft smile pulling at his lips. "But thank you. Really."

Through your sniffling, you managed to nod and offer a watery smile. "It’s not fair. You deserve better, Riddle. I mean it."

And with that, Riddle found himself falling just a little harder for you—ugly crying and all.

It’s a regular afternoon tea party, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and your sister is… making out with the eighth male lead in broad daylight behind a rose bush.

Ah. Classy.

You had only wandered over to sneak a mini éclair when you caught them. What’s worse is they weren’t even being subtle—like, they might as well have put up a sign that says, “We’re Ruining Our Reputations Here.”

Shocked beyond measure, you accidentally let out the loudest and most undignified gasp. It’s so loud that the entire tea party freezes mid-sip. Cups stop midair, all eyes turn to you like you’ve just declared war on the empire.

“Did someone choke on a scone?” Trey asks, concerned, already standing to assess the pastry crisis.

You try to subtly redirect everyone’s attention back to their tea, but it’s too late. The damage is done. The Imperial Princess, the Empress, the First Prince, the Emperor, Riddle, your parents, Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce, and Riddle’s mom—all eyes are now locked on you and the unfortunate scene happening behind you.

Your sister and the eighth male lead pop their heads out of the bushes like deer caught in headlights, looking horrified. The heroine, of course, immediately bursts into tears. “I can’t believe you! How could you ruin my private moment!” she wails, mascara already running.

You blink. "Private? You were basically holding auditions for 'Romeo and Juliet' in front of the entire garden."

"Enough!" The Empress's voice cuts through the chaos like a sword. She glares at your sister, then glances at you for an explanation. You're about to open your mouth when—

"An outrage!" The Imperial Princess thunders, stepping forward with the grace of a tiger ready to pounce. "Is this what passes for decorum these days?"

Before you can even begin to process the incoming storm, your sister points her trembling finger at you. “It’s her fault! She—She’s been plotting against me this whole time! She wanted to embarrass me!”

You raise an eyebrow, utterly deadpan. “By forcing you to lock lips with the eighth male lead in broad daylight? Wow, my plans are so intricate even I don’t understand them anymore.”

Ace is snickering so loudly into his teacup that he’s shaking, and Deuce is doing his best to hold back tears of laughter. Cater’s trying to stay neutral, but even he’s got a lopsided grin.

Riddle, on the other hand, looks like he’s trying to create a new spell that will instantly smite him while his mother… well, his mother seems like she’s gonna cut someone.

Riddle’s mom, the always composed Lady Rosehearts, steps forward, glancing at your sister with such a cold expression that you could swear the temperature drops five degrees. “This engagement," she begins icily, "will not proceed. If there is to be any union between our families, it will be with someone more appropriate." She then turns her gaze to you. “Someone like you.”

Cue a choking noise from Riddle, who looks ready to faint on the spot. His cheeks turn red as he stares wide-eyed at his mother, clearly having not expected this. Trey’s eyes widen too, but he quickly coughs into his fist to hide a smirk. Ace elbows Deuce with barely concealed glee.

“U-Um, Mother?” Riddle manages to stutter out. “What… what do you mean?”

His mother gives him a rather smug look, clearly having already made up her mind. “I mean that if this union is to benefit both families, it would be much more suitable for you to marry someone with intelligence, grace, and… a bit of common sense. Someone who hasn’t made a public fool of themselves.” Her eyes drift back to your sister, who is now dramatically sobbing into her hands.

Your father looks like he’s just been hit by a runaway carriage, staring in horror at the scene unfolding before him. “Lady Rosehearts—surely this is a misunderstanding—”

Riddle’s mom raises a hand. “If there is to be any marriage, it will be between my son and your younger daughter. Or,” she adds sharply, “there will be no marriage at all.”

You stand there, blinking at the whirlwind you just caused by gasping too loudly at your sister’s terrible decision-making skills. You glance at your mom, who has her face buried in her hands. But when she peeks through her fingers, you see the slight glint of satisfaction in her eyes. She’s pretending to be scandalized, but deep down… she’s absolutely living for this. You know she's elated that you got your guy.

The Emperor himself clears his throat, trying to restore order to the royal circus. “Well, this is… unprecedented,” he says, diplomatically, though there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, like he’s holding back laughter.

Your sister, meanwhile, continues her sobbing performance, practically flinging herself into your father’s arms. “Papa, how can they treat me like this?! You always told me I’m the heroine!”

You try to hide your grin. “Heroine of a tragedy, maybe.”

“Enough!” Your father groans, looking utterly defeated. “You’ve done enough damage, girl.”

Riddle reluctantly speaks up. “I… I suppose Mother has made her decision.” His voice wavers a bit, and for a moment, he seems like he might collapse under the weight of all this sudden attention. But then, his eyes meet yours. And despite the chaos, despite his mortification, there’s a small, shy smile on his face.

“You,” he begins hesitantly, “you wouldn’t… mind this arrangement, would you?”

You laugh softly, glancing at the ridiculous mess that was this tea party. “Honestly? I'm quite fond of you so, why not?”

Ace lets out a snort of laughter, while Cater gives you a double thumbs-up from across the table. Trey just smiles warmly, giving you an approving nod. Even Lady Rosehearts looks somewhat satisfied.

The system, not one to miss an opportunity, dings in your head again.

"Villain System: New achievement unlocked! Engagement broken! Also… bonus points for making a royal spectacle of it. 100 Villain Points awarded."

With this, you're free from the system. Maybe it's time to retire your villain act.

You nearly burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. But for now, you simply give Riddle a small, reassuring smile.

“Well,” you say, “guess we’ve got some wedding planning to do.”

It was a grand banquet, the kind where you could practically smell the prestige in the air. The Imperial Family was seated at the head of the table, all regal in their elegance. You were just trying not to trip over your own shoes and embarrass yourself in front of the Empress again.

Riddle, of course, was the epitome of decorum. Every movement was precise, every word carefully measured. Until—just as he went to refill the First Prince’s wine glass—his hand slipped ever so slightly. The tiniest splash of wine splattered onto the pristine tablecloth. It was so small you would’ve missed it if you weren’t watching him so intently.

But Riddle noticed. Oh, did he notice.

His face immediately paled like he’d just seen a ghost wearing polka dots, and his eyes darted across the table to where his mother sat. Lady Rosehearts was blissfully unaware, engaged in conversation with the Emperor, but Riddle looked like he was about to meet his maker.

You could almost hear his internal screams.

To anyone else, it was a non-event. But to Riddle, this was a catastrophe of the highest order. You could practically feel him sweating next to you, despite his rigid posture.

Time to act.

“Oh no!” You gasp dramatically, standing up and pointing directly at yourself. “I can’t believe I just did that!”

Everyone at the table stopped and stared, clearly wondering what on earth you were talking about. Even the Empress raised an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and mild amusement flickering on her face.

Riddle blinked, looking at you like you had just spontaneously grown a second head. “What…?”

You plopped down a napkin over the tiny splash of wine, covering the evidence. “I—I accidentally knocked the bottle when Riddle was pouring!” you announce loudly, offering a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry, Your Highnesses. How embarrassing.”

The Empress smiled indulgently. “It’s quite all right, dear. Such things happen.”

Lady Rosehearts glanced over at the napkin-covered spot and frowned slightly, but then she looked back to you and said, “No harm done.”

Meanwhile, Riddle’s face was a mix of confusion, shock, and—was that gratitude? He blinked again, still processing what just happened. His mother hadn’t even glanced at him in disapproval, and now you were taking the fall for a spill no one really noticed.

As the conversation around the table resumed, Riddle leaned in close, whispering under his breath, “Why would you do that?”

You grinned and shrugged. “Because I’ve got a heart of gold, obviously. And I quite like you, you know”

Before Riddle could respond, Ace, who had been watching the whole debacle with barely restrained glee, leaned over from his spot across the table. “You’re down so horrendously,” he said, just loud enough for you and Riddle to hear.

You shot him a look. “You’re just mad you don’t have someone as gracious as me taking the fall for you”

Ace wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe, but at least I don’t go taking the fall for my fiancé before we’re even married.”

Riddle flushed a bright red. “I—I—this isn’t—”

You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “You know, Ace, sometimes you just have to be a hero.”

“Sure, ‘hero,’” Cater chimed in, leaning in on the action with a smirk. “Or, you know, simp of the year.”

Riddle, still flustered, shoots both of them a glare, but you can tell he’s secretly relieved. The impending doom of his mother’s wrath was averted, all thanks to your impromptu performance.

With a small sigh, he finally mutters, “Thank you,” so softly you almost miss it.

You give him a wink and lean back in your chair, feeling pretty pleased with yourself. “Anytime, partner.”

Ace nudges Deuce. “You think we should get them ‘World’s Greatest Simp’ matching mugs for the wedding?”

Deuce shrugs. “I think it’d be cute.”

Riddle buries his face in his hands. "Please, spare me."

But the corners of his mouth are lifting, just slightly.

It happened when you decided to climb the academy's tallest tree. It was a brilliant idea in your mind—after all, you’d just spotted an adorable sparrow nest precariously hanging from one of the highest branches. Rescue mission mode engaged.

The execution? Less brilliant.

You were halfway up, dangling from a particularly wobbly branch, when you heard a very familiar voice calling your name from below.

“WHAT are you doing?” Riddle’s voice was half exasperated, half astonished.

You looked down (mistake) and saw Riddle, arms crossed, staring at you with a mix of bewilderment and that very specific “You’re in trouble” look he usually reserved for rule-breaking.

“I—uh,” you stammered, “I’m saving the sparrows?”

There was a long pause. Riddle blinked. “You climbed that tree for sparrows?”

“Look, I know it’s a bit—”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Riddle interrupted, running a hand down his face. “Do you even have a plan for getting down?”

“...I’ll figure that out later?”

Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “Of course you will.”

By some miracle (or the sheer force of your chaotic will), you managed to secure the sparrow nest and shimmy your way down without falling to your doom. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you triumphantly held the nest up, smiling wide.

“See? Mission accomplished!”

Riddle just stared at you, mouth slightly open, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then, out of nowhere, he laughed—a soft, bewildered laugh that grew louder the more he looked at you, dirt-covered and grinning like an idiot.

“You…” he started, shaking his head with a small, fond smile, “You’re such an idiot.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. “I—hey!”

“No, really,” he continued, stepping closer, eyes full of amusement. “You’re reckless and absurd and you do things like climbing trees to save sparrows and covering for me in front of the imperial family without thinking it through.”

You frowned, feeling a bit defensive. “Well, someone has to—”

“And yet…” His voice softened, and suddenly he was close, much closer than you expected. His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “And yet… I don’t think I could imagine my life without you.”

Your brain took a second to catch up. “Wait, what?”

Riddle took a breath, as if bracing himself, and then met your eyes with the most serious expression you’d ever seen on him. “I’m saying that I—” he hesitated, his cheeks turning pink, but his voice was steady, “I’m in love with you.”

You stood there, stunned, staring at him in complete disbelief. Riddle Rosehearts just confessed his love to you.

“…Even after all the dumb stuff?” you asked, still processing.

Riddle laughed again, that soft, endearing laugh that made your heart flip. “Especially after all the dumb stuff.”

There was a beat of silence where you just stared at each other, and for once, your usually silly brain kicked into overdrive. You stepped closer, leaning in with a sudden smoothness you didn’t even know you were capable of.

“Well,” you said, your voice dropping to a low murmur as you tilted your head toward him, “lucky for you… I’m your idiot.”

And before Riddle could even respond, you kissed him.

It was soft, and sweet, and everything perfect. For a moment, Riddle was so surprised he froze, but then he melted into it, his hand gently cupping your face like he’d been waiting forever to do this.

When you pulled back, Riddle was completely flustered, his face red as a tomato, but there was a dazed smile on his lips. “That… That was unfair.”

You grinned, leaning your forehead against his. “You love it.”

Riddle shook his head, still smiling. “I really do.”

And from that moment on, it was clear: you may be the academy’s resident chaos agent, but you were his chaos agent, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You finally got a private moment to yourself. It was time to say goodbye to the villain system that you may or may not have gotten fond of.

The notification flashed across your vision, blindingly bright:

[Congratulations! You’ve accumulated enough points to finally say goodbye to the system.]

You blinked. "Wait… really? I can finally get rid of you?"

[Yes. It’s been a wild ride, hasn’t it?]

Wild ride was an understatement. The system had dragged you through schemes, quests, and enough drama to fill a ten-season TV show, all for the purpose of toppling your sister's reign of terror. And now, at long last, you were free.

"...So that's it?" you asked. "No final boss fight? No sudden plot twist where you take over my body and reveal you’re the real villain?"

There was a pause before the next notification popped up.

[Actually... about that plot twist...]

You groaned. "I knew it. What is it this time? Are you an evil AI? A demon? Oh God, please tell me you’re not my fairy godmother in disguise."

[I’m… actually the original villainess.]

You stared at the screen for a solid five seconds. "...What."

[Yeah. You, uh, you kinda possessed me.]

You blinked rapidly, your brain short-circuiting. "WHAT?!"

[I was the original villainess of this world. The real one. You didn’t just get isekai’d into some random character. You got me, because I wanted you]

"Oh my God," you muttered. "You’ve been here the whole time?"

[Yup. Watching you fumble around like an idiot. No offense.]

"None taken, but wow—uh, okay," you said, rubbing your forehead. "So I’ve just been… helping you take revenge on your sister this whole time?"

[Well, duh.] The system sounded almost smug. [She tormented me horrifically when I was still alive. That’s why I pushed you to make her life miserable. I wanted justice.]

"Justice," you repeated, thinking back to all the chaos, sabotage, and general insanity. "That was justice?"

[Look, we both know she deserved it.]

You couldn’t exactly argue with that. "I mean, fair. So what now? You just leave?"

There was a long pause before the system replied.

[Well... you actually have more points than you need. You can buy my identity if you want. Get the full story. You know, if you're curious.]

You hesitated for a second, but then shrugged. "Eh, why not. Hit me with it."

The system pinged, and suddenly, memories flooded your mind—her memories. You saw everything: her upbringing, her struggles, how she had tried so hard to be perfect for her family, only for her sister to constantly outshine her. You saw the cruel way her sister belittled her, humiliated her in front of the court, all while smiling sweetly to the outside world.

And then… the tragic ending, where the villainess was cast aside, labeled a monster, and killed.

By the end of it, you felt like you’d been punched in the gut.

"Oh, wow," you whispered. "She really was awful to you."

[Told you.]

"Man… I’m so sorry," you said, your voice softening. "You went through all that, and then you ended up stuck with me."

[Honestly? It was kinda fun watching you screw up everything at first.] The system’s tone was teasing now, but there was an undeniable warmth underneath it. [But you did a good job. Better than I ever did. You were a little unhinged, but hey, that’s probably why I liked you.]

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Thanks, I guess? I tried my best."

[You did more than that.] There was a strange fondness in the system’s voice. [You turned this whole world upside down. You made people laugh, cry, and probably question their sanity. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better revenge.]

For a moment, you felt a lump form in your throat. "So… what now? Do you just disappear?"

[Yeah. It’s time for me to move on. But… hey, I’m rooting for you. Go live your best life. Be happy. And if you ever need to knock your sister down a peg, do it in style. For me.]

You smiled, blinking away the sudden wetness in your eyes. "You bet I will. And hey—wherever you go, I hope you get to relax for once. You deserve it."

[Pfft, I doubt it, but thanks.]

There was a brief pause, then another notification popped up.

[Goodbye, little reader. It’s been real. And remember—always aim for the drama. It makes life more interesting.]

With that, the screen dimmed, and the system was gone.

You stared at the empty space where the notifications used to be. "Aim for the drama, huh?" you muttered, a grin tugging at your lips. "Well, I guess that’s one thing I’m good at."

As you turned around, ready to move forward without the system hovering over

you, you felt something. A strange, gentle sensation, like the faintest brush of a breeze, except it wasn’t just that. It was warmer, more personal, and… oddly comforting.

It took a second, but then it hit you. "Wait—"

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Was this—?

It was as if the original villainess was giving you a ghostly hug. Soft, delicate, but so real you could almost feel her presence.

Tears welled up in your eyes, completely out of nowhere. You weren’t supposed to feel emotional! Not over a system—no, not just a system—a person who had suffered more than you ever realized.

"I… I’m sorry I couldn’t fix everything for you," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I tried, I really did, but…"

You felt that warmth grow a little stronger, like she was reassuring you, telling you that you had done enough. More than enough. Maybe, in a way, you’d freed her. Given her peace.

The weight of that ghostly embrace made your heart swell, and before you could stop yourself, you started crying. Again. But not the ugly, chaotic crying from before—this was softer, deeper. The kind of crying that cleansed your soul.

"I’ll do it," you whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I’ll finish what I started. I’ll take her down. Not just for me—but for you."

The presence seemed to linger for a moment longer, and then it was gone, leaving behind a quiet strength in its place.

You wiped your eyes, steeling yourself. The resolution hardened in your chest like iron. Everything you had been planning, all the revenge, the chaos you had been orchestrating, it wasn’t just some game anymore. It was personal.

For her.

With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and looked out toward the path ahead, a fire burning brighter than ever inside you.

"I’ll finish this," you muttered, fists clenching. "And it’s going to be beautiful."

And with that, you walked forward, no longer just a reader in someone else’s story.

This time, you were the one in control.

The day of your wedding to Riddle was perfect. Every detail was as if the universe had conspired to make sure nothing went wrong. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers, and laughter echoed throughout the grand venue. Your friends were all there, supporting you—Ace and Deuce bickering over who looked better in their suits, Cater contantly checking if everything was aesthetically pleasing, and Trey managing everything behind the scenes with his usual calm, though you caught him grinning at you more than once, proud as ever. Even Che'nya had shown up, popping in and out of sight as he pleased, throwing teasing remarks at anyone who passed by.

Your sister, however, was absolutely seething. She stood stiffly, dressed impeccably, but with a scowl that could burn down the entire venue. You knew she was fuming because she had always imagined herself in your place, standing beside Riddle. Too bad for her—you had the upper hand now.

You glanced at her briefly as you passed by, a wicked smile tugging at your lips. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts to show your face here. I almost admire it,” you whispered sweetly as you walked past her, arm in arm with Riddle.

She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could get a word out, you tossed one last barb. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to toss my bouquet to you. Maybe you'll get married next? You know, if they can find someone that can stand you?”

Riddle squeezed your hand as if to remind you to behave, but even he had a hint of a smirk on his face. Your friends snickered behind you, and Che'nya, perched casually on a railing, added a quiet, “Oof, that’s gotta sting.”

The ceremony itself was beautiful. Riddle stood there looking like he’d stepped out of a fairytale, his usually stern face softened by the moment. As you exchanged vows, there was a lightness to the air that made everything feel surreal. You could see how much he cared in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he held yours.

Ace, unable to help himself, whispered loudly, “You sure Riddle isn’t going to pass out from the nerves?”

Deuce elbowed him, but you could barely hold back a laugh. Even Riddle blushed a bit, shooting a glare at Ace but unable to hide his own amusement.

When it was time for the reception, the fun really kicked off. Che'nya gave a surprisingly emotional speech—well, for him at least, as he vanished mid-sentence and then reappeared to finish his speech. Trey quietly made sure everything ran smoothly, even sneaking a slice of cake for you before the official cake-cutting, while Ace and Deuce took over the dance floor with some wild moves that had everyone laughing. Cater even got caught spiking the drinks and you couldn't help but laugh.

After the wedding, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the celebration. Everything had gone smoothly, almost too smoothly. Even Riddle’s mother, who was notoriously hard to please, had remained poised and polite throughout. But you knew there was still unfinished business, and the weight of it settled heavily on your chest.

You’d seen the way she treated Riddle for years—through the pages of the webnovel and now, up close. Sure, she liked you, had even hinted at being pleased with your match to Riddle, but that didn’t erase the years of pressure and manipulation she had placed on him. The burden he had carried because of her was too great to ignore, and today, of all days, you were not going to let it slide.

You spotted her near the garden fountain, quietly observing the festivities. For a moment, she looked almost serene, her icy exterior softened by the beautiful day. But that didn’t change how you felt.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over. "Lady Rosehearts," you began, your voice steady but laced with unspoken tension.

She turned to you, a smile on her lips. "Ah, my dear. You were magnificent today. Truly the picture of grace and elegance. I couldn't have asked for a better match for my son."

Her words were warm, genuine even, but they only fueled the fire burning in your chest. You didn’t respond right away, just stared at her, waiting for the right moment to unleash what you’d been holding in.

Finally, you spoke, your voice low. "I appreciate your kind words, but there’s something I can’t let go of." You stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "For years, you’ve pushed Riddle to be perfect. You suffocated him with your expectations, and it hurt him. I can’t stand by and let you pretend that didn’t happen."

Lady Rosehearts blinked, caught off guard. She opened her mouth to respond, but you held up a hand.

"You like me, and I’m grateful for that, but I love Riddle." Your voice wavered, not with fear, but with emotion. "And because I love him, I can’t ignore the damage you’ve caused. The pressure you put on him to be someone he wasn’t. The way you never let him breathe. You may have done it out of love, but it hurt him."

She stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. There was no immediate defense, no cold dismissal. She simply looked… surprised.

"I…" she began, but faltered. "I thought I was doing what was best for him. I wanted him to succeed, to be respected."

"But at what cost?" you snapped, unable to hold back the edge in your voice. "You wanted him to be respected so much that you never let him make his own choices. He deserves to be happy. And he deserves your respect, not just as your son, but as a person."

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. You could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the realization that perhaps, just perhaps, she hadn’t done as well by Riddle as she thought.

Before she could respond, Riddle appeared beside you, having noticed the tension from across the garden. He stood tall, his usual calm demeanor in place, but you could sense the vulnerability beneath it.

"Mother," he said quietly, his voice steady but with a new strength behind it. "She’s right."

His mother turned to him, the surprise evident on her face. "Riddle…"

"I know you wanted the best for me. I know you love me. But I needed more than just discipline and expectations. I needed to know that it was okay to be myself. To fail, even." He paused, and his eyes softened. "I love you, Mother. But you have to let me live my life. I’m not a perfect image for you to sculpt."

The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken words. You held your breath, waiting for her reaction, unsure of what to expect. You had always imagined her to be unmovable, too set in her ways to ever change.

But then, her expression softened. She took a step toward Riddle, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "I… didn’t realize. I thought I was protecting you. But I see now that I may have been too harsh, too controlling." She paused, her gaze shifting between you and Riddle. "You’re right. Both of you. And I am truly sorry."

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in her voice. This was not the cold, unyielding woman you had expected. There was genuine remorse in her eyes.

She turned to you, her tone softer. "Thank you. For helping him find his way. And for standing by his side."

For a moment, the three of you stood there, the weight of years of tension slowly lifting. It wasn’t a perfect resolution—years of damage couldn’t be erased with one conversation—but it was a start.You sighed, the anger that had been simmering inside you finally ebbing away. "I only did what anyone who loves him would do," you said, glancing at Riddle with a soft smile.

Riddle’s mother nodded, and though her usual composure was still in place, there was a warmth in her expression that you hadn’t seen before. "Then I’m glad he found someone like you." But you saw her expression crack a little and so did Riddle.

Then, Riddle, ever the perfect son, stepped forward. "Mother, it’s alright." His voice was soft, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t often seen. He reached out and offered her something you never expected—a hug.

For a moment, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she stepped into his embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around him. It was quiet, emotional, and—before you knew it—you were also pulled into it.

The warmth of the group hug surrounded you, Riddle’s mother surprisingly holding you a little tighter than you expected, as if silently acknowledging the forgiveness Riddle was able to give because of your presence by his side.

She then pulled away, wiped her tears and wiped the tears that you didn't realize were falling from your eyes either. "Congratulations, again, I'm proud of you both" was all she said as she turned to leave.

As she stepped away, leaving you and Riddle alone in the garden, you let out a long breath, feeling a sense of closure you hadn’t expected.

Riddle turned to you, his expression soft and full of gratitude. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For standing up for me. For everything."

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "You don’t need to thank me. We’re in this together, remember?"

He squeezed your hand gently, his usual stoic expression melting away into something softer, more vulnerable. "I know. And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

From across the garden, you saw Trey and Che'nya watching, Trey giving a subtle nod of approval, while Che'nya grinned, undoubtedly waiting to pounce with some teasing remark later.

But for now, you just stood there with Riddle, the weight of the day finally settling in. You’d won—both the battle for his heart and the battle for his freedom. And in that moment, everything felt right.

The courtroom was packed, filled with nobles from all across the empire. This was the moment you’d been waiting for, orchestrated with the help of your closest friends: Trey’s calm, methodical planning, Cater’s relentless information gathering, Ace and Deuce’s enthusiasm (and occasional chaos), and, of course, Riddle, who stood by your side, his presence a steady reassurance.

Your sister stood at the center of attention, oblivious to the storm about to hit. For years, she had manipulated and destroyed anyone who dared stand in her way. She thought she was untouchable, the darling of the nobility, admired and respected. But you knew the truth, and so did everyone in this room, thanks to the carefully gathered evidence that was about to expose her for the monster she was.

Cater had planted seeds of the truth you found out that grew into full-fledged whispers about your sister’s darker deeds. Even now, the tension in the room was palpable as people murmured, casting glances her way.

You stepped forward, the letter you held clutched tightly in your hand. Riddle gave you a small nod of encouragement, his eyes steely as he took his place beside you.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you began, your voice clear and sharp, cutting through the room's murmurs. "I come to you today not with accusations, but with the truth. The truth of the heinous crimes committed by my sister."

There was a gasp from the crowd, the air thick with shock and intrigue. Your sister's face remained calm, but you saw the flicker of worry in her eyes.

"She has embezzled from the kingdom’s treasury, siphoning off funds meant for the empire's welfare," you declared, holding up the documents that Trey had meticulously helped you gather. "She has blackmailed noble families into silence, using threats and false accusations to maintain her hold over them. And worst of all—"

You paused, letting the tension build as you cast your gaze over the room, making sure every pair of eyes was locked on you. Then, with quiet, deliberate force, you spoke.

"She has been responsible for the poisoning of the emperor’s own cousin, Lady Astoria. A death that was pinned on an innocent maid."

The room exploded into chaos, gasps, and shouts of disbelief filling the air. Your sister’s face drained of color, her facade finally cracking as people turned toward her, expressions of shock and outrage growing with every second.

"These documents prove every crime," you continued, your voice strong and unwavering as Cater passed around copies of the evidence to the nobles. "She thought she could keep her secrets buried. But not anymore."

"These are lies!" your sister shrieked, her voice desperate as she clutched at the air, trying to regain control. "This is a setup! You’ve all been deceived!"

But it was too late. The emperor himself stood up, his eyes narrowing in fury as he glanced over the evidence. The knight commander beside him was already moving, her sword drawn as the guards approached your sister.

"For your crimes against the empire, you are sentenced to death," the emperor declared, his voice cold and final.

Your sister screamed, fighting as the guards seized her, but there was no escape now. The nobles who once fawned over her turned away in disgust, her power crumbling in mere moments.

Riddle’s hand found yours, his grip tight but comforting as you watched her dragged away. It should’ve felt sweet, but instead, you felt a strange heaviness settle in your chest. This was the end, wasn’t it?

As the execution was carried out in the courtyard, the crowd watching with bated breath, you stood off to the side, Riddle at your side, and your friends close by. Ace whispered some snide comment about how dramatic everything was, and Deuce elbowed him to shut up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

When it was over, the finality of it hit you like a truck. You had done it—exposed her to the world, avenged not just yourself, but the original villainess too. You expected to feel victorious, but instead, a deep sadness settled in your chest. She should've been the one to see this.

And then, just as you were about to turn away, you saw her.

A faint, ethereal figure stood near the edge of the courtyard. The original villainess. Her eyes were softer than you imagined, her expression free of the bitterness that had fueled her desire for revenge. She looked… peaceful.

Tears welled in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were crying, really crying. Ugly, messy sobs that you couldn’t control. All the rage, all the sorrow, everything you had carried from her spilled out in that moment.

"I did it," you whispered, barely audible, but you knew she heard you. "I did it for you."

The specter of the original villainess smiled, a soft, almost sisterly expression on her face. And then, in a moment that almost felt too surreal, you felt her—felt her give you a final ghostly embrace. It was as if the weight of her vengeance had lifted, her spirit no longer bound by the chains of hatred. She was free now, and so were you.

With a final nod, the specter faded into the night, leaving you standing there, tears streaming down your face. You wiped them away as best as you could, sniffling and trying to compose yourself, but the lump in your throat remained.

The warmth of the original villainess's hug lingered long after she faded, her presence now a bittersweet memory. You stood in the quiet, feeling an overwhelming sense of both loss and completion. For the first time, it felt like the weight of both your lives had lifted.

Then, a soft flutter of wings caught your attention. A small dove descended gently, perching on your shoulder. It was so light, so delicate, and for a moment, it just sat there, as if offering comfort. You held your breath, watching it. The dove turned its head toward you, as though it knew. As though she knew.

You blinked, tears pooling in your eyes again as the dove gave a soft coo and flew away, soaring into the sky. Something inside you broke at the sight—something that had been held together for too long. The tears came harder now, not out of sorrow, but of release.

"She's free…" you whispered, your voice trembling. "She's finally free."

Your chest heaved with emotion, sobs you couldn’t control spilling out as you watched the dove disappear into the distance. All this time, everything you had done, every struggle, every sacrifice, was for her. And now, it was over.

Riddle turned toward you, concern flickering in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded, blinking away the last of your tears. "Yeah… yeah, I am. It’s just—" You paused, looking up at the sky. "My sister’s gone now. And I think… I'm at peace."

Riddle stood beside you, his own heart heavy with the weight of your emotions. Without a word, he reached out, gently pulling you into his arms. His embrace was soft but firm, grounding you when you felt like you might fall apart.

Riddle’s grip on your hand tightened, and when you looked at him, there was something unspoken in his gaze—understanding, maybe. "You did what was right," he said softly. "And now it’s over."

You took a deep breath and nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "Yeah. Now it’s over."

With Riddle by your side, and your friends waiting for you just beyond the courtyard, you knew that the hardest part was behind you. You had avenged the original villainess, exposed your sister for what she truly was, and now, finally, you could walk away from all of it.

Riddle leaned closer, his voice gentle but filled with quiet strength. "Come on. Let’s go."

Together, hand in hand, you turned away from the past and walked toward the future—your future—with the love of your life, your husband, Riddle, by your side.

Boy, was this a ride to write, but i genuinely haven't had this much fun writing before, and it got longer as i went.

For the next Trashy Novel Chronicles, which twst char would you like to see? I have a few plots planned for these, I'll eventually write them both but which one do y'all wanna see first?

Series Masterlist ; My Masterlists

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #chaotic mc #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #au: nobility #arranged marriages #trash novel chronicles

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ittybittyfanblog · 6 months ago

Text

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 2

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a–less–oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: Ok, I’ve decided to make this by series, so this one’s just going to be purely Sylus. I hope nobody minds the specific names/places/etc. I wanted to create a personality for the “player” and add a bit of backstory work (loosely based on yours truly lol) for the sake of storytelling, but there won't be any distinct description of the player’s physical appearance <3 Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, bouts of delusion

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

Riiiiing– RiiiNGGGGG––

...

“Huh… whazat—?”

A shrill—earsplitting, headache-inducing, completely fucking loud—noise wakes you up rather rudely from your peaceful slumber at… Jesus Christ, what time is it?

You blink your bleary eyes open, once… twice—fuck, all you know that it’s too goddamn early for all this ruckus. Groaning, you clumsily try to find the source of the unexpected wake-up call. Quite literally in this case.

Your hand bumps the vibrating phone straight off the edge of the mattress—along with the charger cord still attached to it—and you cuss up a storm when you hear it clatter on the hardwood floor.

The ringing finally stops, and you’re perfectly content to leave it there and fall back to sleep when, not even ten seconds later, the blasted thing rings back to life, taunting you awake.

Angrily, you wrestle against the threadbare blanket wrapped around your body like a warm cocoon, pushing yourself out of bed with all the rage of a sleep-deprived insomniac who’s been up til the buttcrack of dawn to grab your—huh, relatively intact—phone off the ground, while the charger cable swings haphazardly from the weight of the power brick on its tail end.

Without checking the caller, you swipe right to answer. “What?”

“Don’t use that tone on me, young lady,” Your mother grouses on the other end of the line. “It’s almost noon! Did you just wake up?”

Barely five hours of sleep. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shut your eyes and sigh. “No, mom. Sorry, just had a late night,” you clear your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “What’s up?”

“Oh, dear. Is it because of work again?” Something akin to sympathy replaces the sternness in her voice, and you dread the all-too-familiar spiel that comes next. “You know, honey, there’s a job opening for a– what was it again? I have to double check, but it’s where your Auntie Helen works. You know your Auntie Helen—”

“Mom,” you interrupt, before she could go off on a tangent. “Work is fine, don’t worry. Why d’you call?”

“Should I need a reason to call my daughter who's living by her lonesome, a country away from—”

“Mom!”

“Oh, alright,” she finally relents, sounding slightly exasperated. “Were you able to book me and Jodie the roundtrip flight to Orlando? Your cousin’s wedding is barely a month away and I want all the documents ready by now, sweetie.”

Shit. “Ah— yeah. I’ll email you the flight itinerary in a bit, I’m just–” you catch sight of your protruding hamper, innocuous but an eyesore nonetheless, right by the doorway of your humble studio unit. “I mean, I just left the condo. To do errands and stuff. I’ll send the details to you when I get back home, okay?”

“Okay, honey,” she sighs. “You stay safe outside now. Don’t talk to strangers.”

“I am a perfectly responsible adult—” The call disconnects. “Hello? Great.”

You rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes, fully aware that your day’s already started, despite your reluctance. Might as well get a head start on today’s agenda.

First thing’s first– brunch. Oh, it’s almost one. Lunch, then. I could maybe grab a hotdog from the corner store before heading to Landers. Oh wait, laundry. Gotta pass by the laundromat downstairs, too. Ugh, c’mon, chop-chop.

Just as you’re about to stand up from your supine position on the floor, another ping! pulls your attention back to your phone. “Mom, I swear–”

Ah, you’re finally awake. You’ve had a very long night, kitten. Take it easy for the day – make sure to get enough rest between errands.

I’ll know if you don’t.

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh! Um. That’s… new.

… Apparently another one on the growing list of “new features” from the latest update. It doesn't sound like an invitation for you to open the game, strangely enough. It's not a call to action to claim your daily stamina, nor a prompt for you to check your Galaxy Explorer rewards.

It’s nothing more than a greeting, really. Just one that’s particularly targeted at you, with unnerving accuracy.

You recall the weird (?) events from last night, and the now-erratic beating of your heart suddenly picks up a notch. From the unexpected dialogues to the outrageous amount of dias you’ve somehow ended up with—something you still think is some kind of glitch in the system—you can’t shake the feeling that you’re living out the plot of a Black Mirror episode, as fucking dumb as that sounds.

Not to mention during Quality Time, Sylus_v2.0 (as you so lovingly dub this version of him in your mind) had been acting more aware of you.

And you’re not talking about the pre-programmed glances that you usually get. No– it’s like he actually hears you.

He doesn’t say anything. But whenever you make a comment, or utter something under your breath, he reacts with a huff or a hum—depending on the context. If it’s a slew of expletives aimed at your boss, the reaction you’re met with is one of amusement. A snort; sometimes a quiet laugh, if you’re lucky. When you say something self-deprecating, however, it elicits the heavier sighs, the sharp clicks of the tongue.

At one point, you heard him make a low sound of dissent, something close to a... growl, almost, after making a casual joke about being just another cog in the machine and how offing yourself wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of late capitalism. As you oft do.

Your eyes met, and for a split second, it felt like you weren’t looking at just pixels. His gaze weighed heavy on you—almost accusatory.

It made you feel… naked, somehow. Perceived.

You recall how quickly you averted your eyes from his, face flushing hotly from a feeling you couldn��t put into words.

Bone-tired from last night’s (morning) overtime, you didn’t have the time to look up the news on this recent version update—although you really don’t remember any notifications in-game—so you quickly Google, “sylus acting sentient in rcent update loveamd Deepspace???” on your phone browser.

You scroll down for a bit, but none of the search results yield any relevancy, nor are they in any way similar to your current… predicament.

(Okay, so calling it a predicament is a little unfair. You’re not exactly complaining about anything per se. No complaints from you. At all.)

Deciding that you’d do a deeper dive on Twitter (X) at a later time instead—probably tonight when you do your daily login—you briefly press the side button to lock your phone… not without a final peek at the banner notification from Sylus.

You press your lips together in an effort to hold back the stupid giggle bubbling up your throat.

Unfortunately, all the self-control in the world can’t help you and your need to have the last word—from what even—so you ask aloud, to no one except the person you've deluded yourself into thinking is a valid recipient of your one-sided conversation:

“... Yeah? And what if I don’t?”

You’re not really waiting for a response (or were you?), but the nervous flutter in your stomach betrays the impatience you're trying to mask with casual indifference. It’s small, unassuming—but there.

Impatient for what, exactly, you’re not sure. But maybe, just maybe—

Feeling a bit braver now, are we? How bold. Care to say that to my face, sweetheart?

Oh.

An inhuman noise escapes your throat, embarrassingly loud, almost a keen, and you fumble with the device in your hand; the new banner notification still in full view—taunting you.

You don’t know what to think, you don’t know how to feel. You–

Spring up, like an agitated jack-in-a-box, and the sudden rush of blood in your head leaves you dizzy. You’re a molotov cocktail of emotions; one more bombshell surprise and you might just blow.

“I’m– later, okay? Uh,” Whew, girl, keep it together. “I need–I need to go.” You almost stumble as you speed walk towards the bathroom.

If you didn’t switch your phone to silent, didn’t make the conscious effort to ignore any incoming messages, notifications, and whatever else, in a rush to get dressed and go about your day as if it's just like any other weekend—nope, nothing unusual here—you would’ve seen one last cheeky reply:

Of course, sweetie. You take care now.

Don’t talk to strangers. X

Endnote: This one's pretty short, but I’m world-building, trust.

Thanks for reading!

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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cherienymphe · 4 months ago

Text

Worth It

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: After finally finding the strength to end your toxic relationship, Rafe thinks he can win you back, no idea that you've been sleeping with his best friend.

warnings: Non-Con, mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, mentions of side of Rafe x reader, kook!reader, non canon ages, p*rn with a plot

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

➥ Can this be read as a one shot? Yes! Can this be read as a follow up to Escapism? Also yes!

⭑

You hated the way tears spilled over as Topper forced you to stare into his eyes. You blamed it on the alcohol in your system—your inability to fully control your emotions, right now. The living room was only lit from the glow of the TV, a movie playing that all three of you had long stopped watching, but you could see the blond—and the determination on his face—perfectly.

“Topper,” you quietly gasped, pushing your arm against his neck. “Stop. Rafe-.”

Your words were cut off in your throat with one particularly hard thrust from him, his hips smacking against yours as he fucked you on the floor of Rafe’s living room. The other blond was in the shower, slightly tipsy himself and none the wiser to what was happening downstairs. Topper snapping and taking matters into his own hands wasn’t surprising. Knowing how he could sometimes get about you, you’d expected it at some point…

Just not here and now.

After a tumultuous eight months with Rafe Cameron, you finally found the strength and resolve to break up with him and keep it that way. He was an okay friend, but he’d turned out to be an even worse boyfriend. The constant lies and disrespect and betrayal had finally gotten to you and pushed you to do something about it that didn’t just involve fucking his best friend.

No one was happier than Topper when a month went by and you still hadn’t given in to Rafe’s half assed apologies and pleas.

It was when it finally started to sink in for everyone that you were serious this time. Rafe wasn’t going to win you back this time, and especially not with the sorry excuses of apologies he always gave. You could see it in his eyes every time you were around each other—the barely contained anger and disbelief and most of all the aggravation that he couldn’t do anything about it.

To the public, you were a single woman.

It was a different story behind closed doors.

Topper never had a problem crawling into your bed every time Rafe hurt you, so he especially had no qualms about it now that you and the toxic blond had broken up for good. He could touch you and kiss you and fuck you without abandon. You no longer had to worry about the sound of Rafe’s knocks interrupting you or being quiet when he was asleep just down the hall or refusing sex with him because you were still sensitive from the feel of Topper’s cock only an hour before.

You and Topper were in heaven…

Until Rafe decided that he wanted to actually put in the work with earning your forgiveness.

“I treated you like shit,” he’d said to you one day, shocking you. “I always have and I know that and…you were right to leave me. You should’ve left me after the first time I cheated.”

There’d been a time when you would’ve killed to hear those words coming from Rafe’s mouth. Now though, now you didn’t care. Even though he didn’t know it, you’d gotten back at him in the best way possible, and it was only made better because that’d never been your intent. You hadn’t wanted to ‘get back’ at Rafe that night Topper told you about the other blond and some girl. You’d just been heartbroken…and craving the touch of another.

“Well…thank you for saying that,” you’d responded.

It was sincere. Even though you were at a place where you didn’t need to hear those words anymore, they were still nice to hear all the same. Rafe had nodded as he gazed at you, both of you in your own world away from the rest of the party.

“We’re over, and I get that now, but…we were friends once.”

You’d looked down at that, gathering where he was going with this and wondering how you and he could ever be friends again after all he’d done to you…and even you to him. He’d been your friend once but that hadn’t stopped him from cheating on you and embarrassing you and just overall treating you like shit. You were friends once but that hadn’t stopped you from sneaking around with his best friend once you found yourself at your breaking point with Rafe’s behavior.

“Look, I miss us being around each other and actually talking, you know. And I know I don’t have anyone to blame but myself, but I miss it…” your gaze met his. “I do, and I’m serious about showing you how sorry I am this time.”

You thought it was…nice.

Topper disagreed.

“We both know Rafe,” he spat at you that same night. “You know better than this. The normal routine isn’t working, so now he’s trying something different, and if you think Rafe has any interest in being your friend, I swear to God, Y/N, I will lose any respect-.”

“I am not some stupid bimbo! You don’t think I’ve considered that?” you threw your hands up. “...but I don’t see you cutting him off as a friend anytime soon, so unfortunately I still have to be around and interact with the man who broke my heart. That’ll be a lot easier now that he’s not trying to kill me with his mind every time we’re in the same room.”

Topper hadn’t had a response for that because it was true. Despite how awfully Rafe had treated you, he was still part of your normal circle—the two of you having way too many people in common—and it was something that bothered you but the alternative was isolating yourself from the people you cared about, and that just wasn’t fair to you.

It was obvious then that Topper wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was forced to sit back and watch as Rafe played nice with you and talked to you like nothing had happened and even flirt with you in that way he used to back before you dated. He hated it, and it was obvious long before tonight, but with alcohol flowing and trips down memory lane, Rafe got too comfortable.

…and right there in front of Topper, the other blond had thrown his arm around you before pressing his lips to your cheek.

It was only with your quick thinking that the kiss landed on your cheek instead of your lips, and picking up on the change in atmosphere, Rafe had pulled away.

“Shit,” he’d mumbled with a chuckle, running his hand through his hair. “I think I need to sober up a little bit.”

Neither you or Topper paid him much attention as he talked about needing a shower, completely oblivious to what he’d just done. You and the remaining blond merely stared at one another as Rafe made his way upstairs—his family out for the night—and it was only when you heard the bathroom door shut that Topper pounced. A hushed argument turned into something more, Topper’s anger only getting worse by the second, and you couldn’t hold in your pained gasp when his hand twisted into your hair.

Topper’s lips were on you, and his other hand was pushing at the skirt you’d put on this morning. He was a man with tunnel vision, completely uncaring about your ex—his best friend—just upstairs in the shower. No amount of times mentioning that seemed to matter, and despite the fact that you were not in the mood to have sex with Rafe so close by, Topper had reached his breaking point.

His fingers had started to curl inside of you before you knew it, one hand hanging onto him to keep from falling and the other pulling on his wrist as a means to get him to stop. Despite your slight inebriation, your feet had firmly planted on the floor to prevent Topper from pushing you down because you knew that it was over the moment he managed to get you onto your back.

With every push of his fingers into your walls, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his movements becoming smoother as his fingers and hand became slick with your juices. His teeth scraped at your neck, causing a shudder to travel up your spine, and you felt his thumb join his other fingers, circling around and over your clit. The way he massaged that bundle of nerves had you faltering, and Topper saw the opportunity and took it.

It was how you found yourself on your back, literally pushing at him and pleading with him to stop.

“I don’t care,” was his only response when you mentioned Rafe the first time.

You did though, and for the first time, you found yourself genuinely resisting him and trying to get him off of you. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist—the shirt you were wearing ripped open—and Topper had long pulled at your underwear and twisted them and stretched them to give him access to push his hard cock into you. You’d almost been unable to swallow down the choked gasp that threatened to escape your throat.

He was slow in fucking you at first, distracted by the way the length of him repeatedly disappeared inside of you. He always loved that, watching your cunt greedily taking him, watching the way you dripped around him and made a mess on the pink shaft. Every protest mumbled from your lips went ignored, and it was only because you could still hear the sound of Rafe in the shower that you didn’t panic.

However, mentioning Rafe again had the man on top of you changing his pace. His thrusts grew in temp, pushing himself into you and pulling out quicker and quicker. Topper had long discarded his shirt, his shorts pulled down to his ankle as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” he cursed, grinding himself against you. “Stop talking about Rafe, just stop.”

Your forearm was pressed to his neck, tears in your eyes as you attempted to get through to him.

“He’s right upstairs,” you angrily whispered, voice panicked. “Are you crazy? Get off of me!”

It came out louder than you intended, but you’d have a much easier time explaining to Rafe what a possible noise was than what he’d see if he came down the stairs at any moment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the thought turned Topper on, his blue eyes glinting in a way you’d never seen as he continued to plunge his cock into you. Every time he pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained just inside of your folds, you could hear the wet sound it made. When he thrust back into you, the squelch reached your ears, and you were too terrified to linger on how that normally turned you on.

You could only think about Rafe hearing the same thing and going on a rampage.

When Topper pulled back, you foolishly thought he decided to listen to you, but instead he only rested on his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer. The moan you let out was loud and breathy, the action having caused you to feel the tip of him deep into your gut, Your legs rested over his own thighs, and Topper’s fingers dug into your hips as he jerked himself into you over and over.

Your chest was heaving, and you didn’t miss the way his hooded eyes traced over you, taking it in. Your toes curled with every push of his hips, and faintly, you could hear the distant sound of water running. A blue glow was casted over Topper’s tan skin, evidence of how much time he’d been spending in the sun. under any other circumstance, you’d reach out to run your hands over him.

Not tonight.

“Topper, please,” you breathlessly sighed.

It almost sounded like you were begging him for more, but as it were, you were begging him to stop being an asshole and get off of you. Your gaze trailed over his face and the intensity you saw there. His lips were parted, and his tongue rested just on his teeth as he looked down at you and enjoying the sight of you taking his cock. Your eyes traveled down his chest, taking note of the sweaty sheen it held.

Your gaze eventually stopped.

You watched the way his cock slid in and out of you, almost transfixed by the sight. He stretched you out so good, always had, and it was hard to ignore the way your body buzzed and your heart fluttered and your stomach tightened. You were torn between wanting to give in and adopt his ‘fuck Rafe’ mindset and trying your hardest to push him off of you.

You and Rafe weren’t together anymore, but him catching the two of you would open a whole can of worms that would ruin the dynamic between you three far worse than anything Rafe had done. Rafe had done you dirty so many times, and it didn’t matter that you’d only cheated on him with one guy. It was the right guy—the only guy that would turn his world upside down in the capacity that he’d turned yours. You didn’t want to experience the fallout of that.

More tears spilled over.

“You look so pretty like this, you know that?” Topper wondered, shifting and leaning over you as his hand circled your neck. “Panicked and teary-eyed and absolutely squirming on my cock.”

“Topper, I am begging you,” you tearfully pleaded, grabbing his hand and using your other to push at his chest. “Rafe…”

“You know what? I want him to see, and I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“It’d be more than what he deserves.”

The animosity and venom in his tone shocked you, and you didn't react to him brushing your tears away with his thumb. His nose brushed against yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he started fucking you harder, putting way more vigor into each thrust.

“He’s done nothing but treat you like shit…and he thinks he still can,” the blond quietly said, and you heard the sound of the shower turning off upstairs. “I want him to see me fucking the shit out of you.”

He reached down, gently pinching your clit and taking pleasure in the way you moaned.

“I want him to see me stretching you out and burying my cock into this pussy that only gets wet for me…”

Your eyes rolled at his words, and you almost forgot why you wanted him off of you so much.

“I want him to see me come inside of you,” Topper moaned, burning his face into the crook of your neck. “I want him to know that I’m spilling into you and you’re greedily milking me for every drop. I’ll happily tell him all the times I’ve done it.”

You shuddered at that, your nails digging into his arm.

“All the times I sent you right back to him with my cum between your thighs.”

“Fuck, Topper.”

You didn’t know if you were saying that in a good way or bad way. You didn’t know why, but you had never realized just how much animosity Topper held for Rafe. You supposed that he’d have to have a healthy dose to repeatedly fuck his girlfriend, but you’d always thought that had more to do with Topper’s feelings about you and recognizing that Rafe simply wasn’t good enough for you.

However, considering that the three of you were once the best of friends, it made sense that Topper would grow to hate Rafe more and more every time he witnessed him putting you through hell.

“I’m going to fill you up and I don’t care who sees.”

His words were doing a good job of convincing you, and you felt yourself caring less and less too the longer Topper fucked you towards your high. You felt your own hips lifting in time with his to meet his thrusts, getting to a point where he held himself still while you fucked yourself onto his cock.

Rafe had hurt you so much, and yes while his actions of tonight were probably driven by alcohol, he clearly thought he’d get the opportunity to hurt you again. He clearly thought you’d give in, and you two would be right back where you were three months ago. Not only did that make you angry, but it hurt. Choosing to try and be friends again was way more than he deserved, and once again, he was attempting to take advantage of your kindness.

For the first time ever, you wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt you.

Really hurt him.

…and when you found yourself on top of Topper, you didn’t care. He was lifting his hips up into you, one hand on your breast and the other on your hip to help guide you up and down his length. The tip of his cock was hitting something inside of you that had you gasping for breath. You couldn’t stop the breathless gasps and softs mewls that left your lips, eyes half closed as you fucked Topper in Rafe’s own house. You were making a mess on his skin, but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care that you were dripping around him, the inside of your thighs sticky from your juices. You didn’t care that your bra was askew as Topper pinched a hardened bud between his fingers. You only cared about pressing the palms of your hands against his chest to ground yourself and make it easier to bounce on top of him. You only cared about chasing your climax, feeling it come closer with every stroke inside of you, and when you tightened around him—Topper spilling into your eager cunt with a groan—you didn’t care when you looked up and fixed your gaze towards the stairs, locking eyes with his best friend.

#topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton fan fiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx fanfiction #Austin north #obx #obx imagine

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meganegatari · 9 months ago

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Bro I literally eat up ur writing every time😭can u do ellie using a vibe on u?

before you read.

☆: KILLING 3 BIRDS W ONE STONE HEHE. i feel these all go well, so why not. sorry for the insane wait, and the wildly lazy writing...me putting this off forever only to bang out a crappy blurb in like 2 mins...also can't stick to a single aesthetic WHATEVA.

◇: vibrator use, fingering, porn w/out plot (sawry), dom-ish ellie (but she's still kinda silly), overstimulation, squirting, aftercare at the end (all r! recieving).

"you can take it, doin' so good." she murmurs under her breath, her face contorted in concentration.

you squeal when ellie presses the vibrator hard against your poor, overworked clit, the sensations almost too much to bear. but no matter how overwhelming it may be, it's still so mind numbingly good. the device has been set on a mode midway for the past...however long, and you've completely lost count of how many times she's made you cum thus far. for all you knew, it could have been well into the double digits, and she didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

ellie’s eyes were dark, low with blown out pupils. they remain trained on you, flickering between observing your facial expressions, your squirming body, covered in a shiny layer of sweat, and what's going on under her hands. "...ellie, hold on...wait." you gasp out, struggling to catch your breath.

she detaches the device from you, her tattooed hand traveling up your body, settling on the side of your face to cup your cheek, and wipe away a stray tear that had escaped from your eye. "need a break, babe?" she says, her gaze softening. that honey voice she puts on, featuring a light domineering timbre, it immediately makes you wet all over again and you whimper quietly, bucking your hips up in pursuit of more stimulation. she notices—of course she does, observant as a fox—and her lips stretch into a sneer, "yeah that's what i thought, still need more." she chuckles, before thrusting the tip of the toy back onto your swollen clit, biting her lip when she watches you arch backward, mantras of her name and pleas falling from your lips.

her free hand, which was previously resting on your knee, flies down the inside of your parted thighs, grazing the heated skin, and she teases your hole with two digits, eagerly observing the reactions. she quickly stuffs her middle two fingers inside with ease, slick and pearly cum leaking down her slender knuckles. curling upwards to massage your g-spot, the pleasure is causing explosions of colors to appear in your vision, your eyes are filling with tears once again.

"just gimme one more, okay?" ellie orders gently, clicking buttons to increase the intensity of the vibrator even more, and you nearly shriek. out of instinct your legs fight to close around her hands, but she's quick to push your knee to the side again, tutting. "nuh-uh, don't do that. just one more. say the safeword if you really want me to stop, alright?" you open one eye and nod meekly at her, and she resumes. within no time at all you feel the brink of orgasm swell in your lower abdomen once more, your legs trembling at every purr of the toy. and she can tell as well by the way you're whining and panting, all with a fucked out, lazy smile playing on your face.

silent moans trapped in your throat, you feel the blinding ecstasy overtake your body, blacking out your senses for a moment. she has lessened the setting to work you through it effectively, all while muttering sweet praises throughout.

"god, look at that." she whispers in awe once it's over, discarding the device on the floor and rubbing her hands across your legs to ease the tension in your thighs, making sure you're okay. she hovers over you to press a tender kiss to your forehead, then over your entire face, grinning when she hears you laugh.

her goofy tone returns, "fuckin' squirted all over me, baby. we'll clean up just gimme a sec." she cuddles up to you, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, sighing and softly stroking the top of your head. "next time we'll do a couple more, make a new personal best, whaddaya think?"

tags (idk why some didn’t work): @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @lanabaezzzz

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kxsagi · 15 days ago

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Hii!!!

I love ur writing so so so much. Genuinely i’ve been reading EVERYTHING. I was wondering if you could do one abt reader being really insecure about her thighs and stomach.

Tysm!

“𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞? 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞”

a/n: thank you so much for your support!!! i hope this could make you smile :)

and yes the title is a lana reference (i’m just so inspired by lyrics today)

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, niko ikki, kaiser michael, ness alexis, karasu tabito, shidou ryusei

itoshi rin

you're standing in front of the mirror frowning at your thighs when rin walks in.

"what are you doing?" he asks like you're plotting a heist.

"just… nothing," you mumble, tugging your shirt down over your stomach.

he immediately knows something’s up. rin doesn't do emotions, but he does read you like a book.

“you’re doing the self-hate monologue again, aren’t you.”

you nod. he just sighs deeply and grabs your face like he's about to deliver a dramatic anime speech.

"i need you to understand something."

"… okay?"

"your thighs are incredible. like, dangerously hot. people would pay to get crushed between them."

"rin."

"no. and your stomach? i literally fall asleep holding it every night. it’s the safest place on earth. i’m not even joking."

later that night he buries his face into your stomach and mumbles, “see? perfect pillow. i win.”

itoshi sae

you make a self-deprecating joke about your body and sae just slowly turns his head to you with the most unamused expression imaginable.

“was that supposed to be funny?”

“no i just… i don’t like my thighs.”

"cool. i do."

"yeah but they're –"

"shhh. you're not allowed to talk shit about my favorite thighs."

then he just grabs them casually while sipping his drink like it's tuesday.

“don’t test me. i will write a love letter to your thighs and frame it.”

and this man would. on fancy paper. with wax seals.

your stomach? yeah he pokes it just to watch you squeal and then hugs it like it's his emotional support plushie.

“stop saying dumb stuff. i know what i like. and i like you.”

drops mic. walks away. leaves you blushing on the floor.

isagi yoichi

isagi is not having ANY of this negativity.

you say “ugh i look bloated” one time and he spins around like a rom-com protagonist.

“you’re what? LOVE. no. come here.”

wraps you in the softest hug and literally kisses your stomach like it's sacred.

“this is the cutest stomach in the world. i’d build a monument for it.”

“yoichi –”

“and your thighs? do you know how many times i’ve spaced out staring at them? once during a team meeting. bachira noticed. it was awkward.”

he starts complimenting every little thing with passionate sports announcer energy: “and here we have the most stunning pair of thighs gracing this room. yes, folks, look at that form!”

eventually he lays his head on your lap with a dreamy sigh and goes, “you don’t even get it. you’re my favorite view.”

bachira meguru

you look a little down and he immediately panic-scatters into your space.

“what happened? who do i fight? did a mirror insult you? i’ll punch it.”

you admit you’re just feeling insecure about your body, especially your thighs.

he gasps like he just witnessed a war crime.

“THOSE thighs? the thighs i mentally thank god for every single day???”

clutches them dramatically.

“they are elite. masterpiece. top-tier. anime protagonist levels of divine.”

then he pokes your stomach and giggles when you try to squirm away.

“it’s bouncy! it’s cute! it’s squish-approved! 10/10! best cuddling material ever!”

draws a smiley face on it with his finger. names it. gives it a backstory.

“this is sir squish-a-lot. he’s royalty. treat him with respect.”

you’re laughing so hard by the end you forget you were ever upset. mission accomplished.

nagi seishiro

you say something negative about your thighs and he just blinks at you.

"no thoughts. head empty. but thighs good."

“nagi that’s not –”

“your thighs are comfy. they’re warm. they’re literally my headrest when i nap. don’t disrespect my nap station.”

then just flops face-first into them while mumbling, “mmph. perfect.”

he pats your stomach too and goes, “this is where i press my face when you’re mad at me. can’t believe you’re beefing with it.”

tries to fix your insecurities by aggressively cuddling them out of you.

“if i kiss the things you hate enough times, will you stop hating them?”

spoiler: yes. yes you will.

mikage reo

genuinely offended when you say you don’t like your thighs or stomach.

“wait what? are we looking at the same person? babe, you’re an art piece. i’d hang a painting of you in my mansion.”

“reo, you don’t have a mansion –”

“yet. but i will. and your thighs are going in the foyer.”

threatens to fund a PR campaign for your self-esteem.

“billboards. magazine covers. motivational speeches. i’m not kidding.”

hugs you from behind and whispers, “how dare you talk bad about my future wife’s perfect body.”

dramatic but also seriously in love with every inch of you.

“if you ever insult your thighs again, i will cry and guilt-trip you for a week. i’m rich. i can be petty.”

niko ikki

you’re feeling insecure and niko notices right away, because this boy is observant as hell.

“you keep covering your stomach,” he says gently.

you admit what’s been bothering you, and he gets this serious expression like he’s going into soccer mode.

“your thighs are my favorite thing to cuddle. i literally mold into them like memory foam.”

you snort, but he just shrugs.

“i’m being real. and your stomach? that’s my safe zone. my emotional recharge pad. stop hating on it.”

later, he literally tucks himself into your side with a blanket and mutters, “mmm, yup. serotonin unlocked. no more insults allowed.”

deadass gives your thighs a pep talk like, “you guys are killin’ it. keep up the good work.”

kaiser michael

you say you feel gross and kaiser’s mouth literally drops open.

“EXCUSE ME???”

“what do you mean you hate your thighs. are you blind? they are a national treasure.”

puts his hand over his heart like he’s been personally wronged.

“your stomach too. i love that thing. it’s adorable. it’s sexy. it’s mine.”

proceeds to rant for 10 minutes about how obsessed he is with you.

“i would get in a physical altercation with a mirror if it made you feel bad. i’m being serious, stop laughing!”

then starts listing celebrities and why they don’t even come close to your level.

“zendaya? beautiful. but do her thighs make me bark out loud like yours? no. i win.”

you’re laughing so hard you can’t even argue anymore.

ness alexis

he goes into full puppy boyfriend mode when you say anything mean about yourself.

“noooo don’t say that! your thighs are literally heaven-sent!”

grabs them and wiggles his fingers into them like they’re stress balls.

“i could live between these thighs. i would die happy here. let me in.”

“alexis please –”

“no. you brought this on yourself.”

hugs your waist so tightly you can’t escape.

“and your tummy? my favorite place. soft. warm. 100% wife material.”

will pout dramatically if you keep putting yourself down.

“i’ll cry. i will. then you’ll feel bad. don’t do that to me.”

karasu tabito

hears you insult your stomach and just slowly blinks.

“so we’re lying now?”

“karasu, i’m serious –”

“me too. your thighs are elite. S-tier. baddie-coded.”

starts listing reasons why you’re the hottest girl alive.

“you walk and i stare. you sit and i stare. you breathe and i STARE.”

pokes your thigh and says, “this is the reason i lost my train of thought mid-practice yesterday.”

constantly hypes you up in the most unserious ways.

“your body’s so fine it needs to come with a warning label. handle with care. dangerous curves ahead.”

and when you finally laugh, he grins and says, “there’s my girl. don’t let dumb thoughts talk shit about my favorite person.”

shidou ryusei

you mutter something like, “ugh, i feel gross today. my thighs look huge,” and shidou literally stops mid-bite of his protein bar.

“what did you just say about my favorite thighs in the universe?”

stares at you, dead serious.

“you tryna make me cry right now? ‘cause i’ll do it. ugly sobbing and everything.”

immediately drops to his knees like he’s about to propose, but instead he wraps his arms around your legs and mumbles into your thighs, “nah, i’m not letting this slander slide. not on my watch.”

you try to walk away but he’s LATCHED ON.

“i love these thighs so much i’d build a church and worship at the altar of ‘em. i’d name a stadium after ‘em. shidou thighs arena™.”

your stomach? he pokes it, leans in close, and whispers, “you got that sexy villain belly. soft and deadly. dangerous in the best way.”

“what does that even mean –”

“means i’m obsessed. you look like you could ruin my life and i’d say thank you.”

will not stop until you laugh. will not stop even after that.

“don’t ever talk shit about my favorite parts of you again. you’re so hot it’s distracting. like. spiritually.”

later that night he flops across your lap and announces, “if thighs could kill, you’d be doing life in prison. and i’d be your cellmate. willingly.”

he’s the unhinged hype man you never asked for but desperately needed.

and the second he sees you smiling again, he grins all smug and goes, “yeah. that’s right. those thighs are mine, baby.”

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sooniebby · 9 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

W.C › 6.9k

Warnings › Riki is an OC. Bottom male reader. Reader has a cock. Reader last name is Tanaka, just cuz I’m lazy. Using some Japanese sparingly, feel free to correct me, I’m in no way fluent lol. Translations at end. Hints at parental abuse, nothing extreme for this ch.

Plot › Scents have always made you nauseous, until you smell a certain playboy

Kinks › A/B/O, scenting, dry humping, brat taming/brat behavior, fondling, rutting

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭:

𝙅𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝘼𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙩

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

➝ 抑制剤を補充する

𝟑:𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌

➝ 抑制剤を補充する

𝟓:𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌

➝ 抑制剤を補充する

𝟖:𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌

❝ 聞いているか, (Name)？ ❞

The sputtering of the fan shook you awake as you rubbed your eyes, trying to ignore the glaring sun seeping through your blinds. Your roommates soft snores brought an odd sense of comfort as you tried to slow your breathing.

You were okay. You were okay.

A meow caught your attention as you glanced over to see Ume, your roommate’s rag doll curled up on the couch near your feet. Your roommate, Furukawa Miya, was on the floor, curled up with a bottle of wine.

Right. Miya was given a bottle of wine by her mother as celebration for her finally moving out. Though she was just moving in with you—she was out of the house. At least that’s what her mother said.

“Morning, Ume. Did I wake you up?” You whispered, leaning over to scratch underneath her cheek. Ume purred and stretched out, her butt rising in the air as her tail curled.

“Nnnnnngh… No~ it’s my wine… no….”

You looked over at Miya, rolling your eyes as she continued to clutch the wine bottle as if it was her baby. You’d worry about her later. As you slipped off the couch, grabbing your phone off the pushed away dining table. There were multiple texts from Miya’s mother, stating that you two better not have finished the wine in one day.

The empty bottle of wine was now being French kissed by Miya.

You’d answer her mother another time.

Ume followed you to the kitchen as you scrolled through the rest of your messages before your thumb stopped at a certain name. You froze, staring at the name as if it would hopefully change or maybe you were reading it wrong without your glasses.

お母さん

↳ Did you replenish it ？ (6:45 AM)

No hello, no fucking how are you? You shut off your phone and slammed it on the kitchen countertop. Some mother she was. You felt the urge to yell when you noticed Miya was awake, cuddling the bottle of wine to her chest as she looked around in a sleepy daze.

Her short dyed purple hair was every which way, her eyes puffy due to how late she went to sleep.

“(Name)-Kun? Sum’ hap’?” She slurred her words, shakily standing up and pattering over to you in the kitchen.

Any sort of anger you had fizzled away as her tangy citrus scent slipped through the air, tickling your nose. You greedily sniffed it and shook your head, grabbing a cup of water to give to her. Miya was an alpha despite her short stature and cute looks.

Most alpha scents made you nauseous. Always strong and acidic. And while Miya’s had an acidic taste, there was still a sweetness to it compared to other alphas. Besides, you’ve smelt her since middle school, you probably just grew a tolerance to her.

“Just my mom.”

Miya’s posture straightens up at the mention of your mother, her doe eyes widening as she grabbed the cup of water. “What did she want?”

“Replenish my suppressants.”

“Is she paying for it?” Miya scoffed, downing the water in seconds.

“She sent me some money.”

“How much?”

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. “3,107 yen.” It wasn’t much compared to how expensive suppressants were these days.

Miya sputtered, her glare returning as she grabbed some cat food from the pantry. “Only that much?! That can’t even pay half.”

“I know.”

“Did you even tell her that suppressants have gotten expensive these days? Especially after the government said it was dangerous for us?”

“Mhm.” You rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Told her that things have changed. I can only get suppressants oversees unless I want to get it from the black market. She just told me to do whatever it takes.”

“Stupid bitch.”

You only chuckled at Miya’s comment. Five years ago, Japan had banned suppressants. Though, it was only a select few. The suppressants you took completely shut down one’s body. Erasing all scents, heats/ruts, and anything that made someone an alpha or omega.

And that, was now illegal. It didn’t even make its users a beta, just a husk of what they should’ve been.

You used to take those suppressants, Limited X, frequently. Two per day when you lived at home. Now you only took one every two weeks. You had tried to stop after leaving your parents home but you had a relapse and nearly died if Miya hadn’t taken you to a hospital.

And in a way, you didn’t want to stop taking them. It wasn’t like you hated the thought of being an alpha or omega but you liked being invisible, not affected by the scents of others.

“It’s fine. I took the last one yesterday. I’ll order some tonight.” You said, glancing over at Miya.

“Will you… try to stop again?” She whispered, a look of worry in her eyes.

“No. I’ve already been taking it my whole life. I’m pretty much ruined now. Doubt I have a scent.”

Miya sighed. “Don’t say that. Even if you don’t have a scent, it can’t be good to be taking these. What if… what if you try to join a pack or even mate with someone? They can’t bite your scent gland, it’s not even developed.”

“I told you. I’ll be alone. I’m not a beta, alpha, or omega. I’m nothing. Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Okay.” She whispered. “But it doesn’t hurt to try again… I’d help you this time.”

You didn’t reply.

It was too late for you. You reached up and gently palmed the back of your neck, touching the rigid skin that didn’t soften like many others.

Citrus didn’t do much to calm you now.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Miya… Why did I have to come with you?” You whined, gripping Miya’s sweater as she rolled her eyes. Miya had dragged you to a student hangout at a sushi restaurant. The professor of Miya’s philosophy class decided to hold it, mentioning that he’d pay for everyone.

You didn’t understand why at first, what teacher has the money to do that, but you soon realized why when you noticed there were only ten students. Plus, it was happy hour.

The students didn’t seem weirded out that you were there though the professor immediately said he wasn’t paying for you. Fair.

“You need to go out more! It’s good to make friends.” Miya said, grabbing a sushi with her chopsticks and feeding it to you.

You pouted. “I only need you.”

“Oi, I can’t get a girlfriend because you keep clinging onto me! They think I’m a taken alpha!” She whined, despite this, she continued feeding you sushi. “I want a girlfriend! Alpha, beta, omega, I don’t care.”

“Go to a mixer.” You said bluntly, nuzzling your nose into her sweater. The scents of omegas and alphas were swirling into one in the restaurant. Even the betas muted scents were attacking you. It was overwhelming, too much for you to handle.

Miya’s citrus scent didn’t bring much comfort, it wasn’t enough to combat the stench. She was wearing scent blockers. One of the few alphas that actually cared about overwhelming omegas and betas with their scents. Couldn’t be said about these other alphas who seemed to be proudly pushing their scent out.

You also wore scent blockers. But not ones that help mute one’s scent. You wore ones that gave you a scent. It was a generic minty scent that lots of betas had.

Almost everyone had a scent. It would be odd if no one could smell anything off you.

These type of scent blockers were also hard to find and expensive. Especially if you wanted one that blended into your skin tone. You glanced at the white scent blocker that was on Miya’s lower part of her neck, larger enough for anyone to just see if they glanced at her.

You closed your eyes, leaning in closer to try and get more of her tangy scent when something sweet tickled your nose.

An omega?

“Watanabe-San, you came?”

“Ah, Watanabe-Kun, why’d you come!! You’re gonna steal all the omegas!”

“Shut it, Tachibana! Watanabe-Kun, sit next to me!”

“Watanabe! Didn’t you have a date?”

“Date? Watanabe and a date? You mean a one night stand?”

“Students! Keep it down,” Professor Naoki bellowed, calming down the students.

You didn’t move your head to see who was coming in. But you felt the cushion beside you shift as a person plopped down. A waitress came by with refills that you almost forgot about the new person entirely when she gave you another mock tail.

You couldn’t drink while on the suppressants. That’s why Miya was the only one who drank wine the other day.

“Hey, Watanabe!” You felt Miya’s chest vibrate as she began talking to Watanabe. It was slightly comforting that you could’ve fallen asleep. Your hand gripped at her sweater as you nuzzled closer into her shoulder.

“Is that your omega?”

“Eh?”

You froze, pulling away from Miya to finally get a look at Watanabe. “Omega…?” You whispered, hoping your tone didn’t come off as you being angry. Omegas already dealt with so much bullshit these days, you didn’t want the omega classmates to think you were disgusted at the idea of being mistaken as one.

“Watanabe, (Name)-Kun isn’t an omega,” Miya said, giggling slightly. “He’s a beta. And we’re not dating! We’re… a pre-pack!”

Watanabe hummed, his eyes flickering onto you. You flinched—finally getting a better look at him. A soft mop of black hair that looked a bit wet. Did he come here in the rain? Judging by his wet jacket that was bundled on his lap you believed you were right. A mole underneath his left eye. Mono-lid eyes that gave him an almost cat like look.

“Beta?” He suddenly asked. “You don’t smell like one.”

“What are you talking about, Watanabe-Kun?” An omega chimed in. “Tanaka-San smells just like a beta! Minty fresh. You can smell me if you want to smell a real omega.” She giggled flirtatiously, earning a round of oohs from the others at her bold behavior.

An alpha laughed, Tachibana—you remembered, “Watanabe-Kun always had a weird sense of smell. You sure you aren’t just smelling a nearby omega?” He asked, sliding over a glass of beer to Watanabe.

Watanabe stared only at you, as if he was watching you, analyzing you. “Mhm. Maybe I was.” He said, turning his attention over to Tachibana who sat across from him.

With his eyes off you, you suddenly felt the freedom to breathe. You tried to recall the sweet scent from earlier but found it to be drowned out.

Miya beside you was chatting it up with a few of her other classmates, blushing at a pretty omega girl whenever she leaned in close. Shit.

You wanted to tough it out a bit longer but the scents attacked your noise and it became too much to handle. With shaky legs, you stood up, gently patting Miya on the head and leaving the restaurant.

The cool rush of air slapped you in the face as soon as you opened the door. The clap of thunder ringing as rain pattered against the roof of the restaurant. Fuck, you didn’t have an umbrella.

But the rain offered a nice break from the smell of alphas and omegas. Rain didn’t have much of a smell to others but it brought a sense of ease to you. You stood there for a moment, just enjoying the serenity of it all.

As you began to contemplate running to the subway, the smell of something sweet was back. It was the same one you smelled before it got muted by the others.

Sweet honey?

It reminded you of Japanese Apricots. You couldn’t help but giggle slightly, that’s what Ume was named after. Maybe that’s why you liked it.

“What are you laughing about?”

A gasp left your lips as you turned around, seeing none other than Watanabe standing behind you. Your feet slid on the wet staircase and you feel yourself stumbling back. You try to reach for the stair railing to stabilize yourself but it was too slippery from the rain.

A strong arm grip your waist as you’re pulled back, crashing into Watanabe’s chest instead of the concrete. Your nose scrunched against his shoulder as your hands subconsciously grip his shirt. So close, you were so close that you could properly smell him.

Ume.

Japanese Apricot.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a muffled whine, pressing yourself closer to him. He smelled so sweet. Alphas never smelled sweet. It was always strong, tangy, or even acidic. But he was sweet. Sweet like honey. Sweet like a strawberry cake. Your lips parted as you gently bit his jacket.

“In public?” You felt him whispering against your hair. “Do I smell that good?” Your body flinched as you looked up seeing Watanabe with a cocky smirk on his lips. Words seemed to escape you as you tried to say something but could only notice the scent blockers on his neck.

The same white scent blocker Miya uses.

But… why does his scent smell so strong?

It felt as if he wasn’t even wearing one.

“So you are an omega?” He asked, tilting his head.

You frowned, pushing him away roughly. He didn’t flinch but still released you, putting some distance between you both. “Not an omega. I don’t know what came over me. Won’t happen again.”

“Mhm. Whatever you say.” He said, shaking his head.

“What… are you doing outside?” You whispered, trying to calm down. Your body felt fidgety for some reason. You didn’t know why, you weren’t surrounded by the stench of other alphas and omegas. Though you couldn’t smell Watanabe with him even a few inches away from you.

So his scent blockers do work…

“Smoke.” He said, waving a pack of cigarettes.

“Smoke…? Don’t smoke near me.”

“I didn’t know you owned the place. Weren’t you leaving?” He pulled out his lighter, pressing one cigarette to his lips and lighting it with ease.

You glared at him, already smelling the nicotine attack your nostrils. Without much thought, you reached over and snatched the cigarette from his lips, dropping it to the ground and crushing it with your sneakers. When you looked back at him, he was staring at you, mouth agape with his lighter still in his hand.

Your actions suddenly replayed in your mind as you bit your lip, realizing you just overreacted. An apology was just on the tip of your tongue when Watanabe chuckled, shoving his lighter into his jacket.

“You’re bold, Tanaka. Is this your way of flirting with me?”

“I’m not flirting with you!” You yelled, blushing slightly. “It’s raining… I can’t leave even if I wanted to.”

Watanabe hummed as he looked out at the rain. “Your alpha okay with you leaving?”

“She’s not my alpha.”

“Aren’t you two a ‘pre-pack’? She’s still your alpha, omega. It’s not safe for non mated omegas to walk home so late alone.”

“Huh?” You muttered, glancing over at him. “Haaah?! What are you even blabbering about, stupid alpha?!”

Watanabe stared at you as if you were a dummy. “Do you even know what a pack is…? If you’re in a pack, the alpha of the pack is your alpha until you’re mated, dumbass.” He rolled his eyes, hands twitching towards his pockets. You could tell he was upset over not being able to smoke.

Oh well! He could smoke later.

“I’m not an omega, dumbass! I’m a beta! B-E-T-A! Beta!”

“Why are you lying? Being an omega isn’t terrible.” Watanabe said, his face suddenly serious. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared straight at you. “Seriously, you just got drunk off my scent, no beta does that.”

“I did not! Your scent is disgusting! Just like those alphas in there,” you pointed at the restaurant door. “I haaaate your scent!”

“You’re so childish.” Watanabe muttered, pulling out his pack of cigarettes once more. You glared at him, eyes squinted as you silently dared him to light one. He paid you no mind, easily pressing one onto his lips as he flicked on his lighter.

Maybe it was the mock tails. Maybe it was the fuzzy feeling in your brain that still swirled around from his scent.

You reached over and pulled the cigarette away from his lips and tossed it behind you. Your hands gripped his face as you squished his cheeks, causing his lips to purse into a pout. You felt a ghost of a giggle at the tip of your tongue but you pushed it down to keep up a furious facade.

“Stop! Don’t smoke in front of me, got it?!” You yelled, leaning up on your toes to look him straight in the eye. Watanabe stared at you with a look of shock.

The rain began to lessen, reaching a soft decrescendo. His skin felt soft in your hands. Your eyes flickered to his lips before quickly moving back to his eyes. You didn’t notice the rise in his eyebrow as his right hand slipped the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket before reaching out and grabbing you by the waist.

A gasp left your lips as you released his face, grunting when he pulled you close. Your face pressed against his shoulder, near the scent blocker. Japanese apricot swirled around you once more and you felt yourself melt in his arms.

Ume.

Ume, Ume.

“You shouldn’t act so brave.” He whispered. “When only a whiff of my scent turns you into putty.”

You only whined in response, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. Watanabe hummed as he leaned down, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth grazed your skin. You flinched, wanting to pull away in fear he’d bite you but you only felt something tear off your skin.

Watanabe pulled away with your scent patch between his teeth. He used his free hand to pull it out and examined the patch with a curious eye. “Never seen any like this. You bought this oversees or something?” He laughed, tossing the patch into the grass nearby.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to mention no littering. His scent was all you could really think about.

“You smell different compared to any omegas I’ve ever been with.” He said. “It’s so faint… almost couldn’t smell it at first.”

Other omegas?

The serenity that once blanketed you was torn apart. Other omegas? Your alpha—no, no! He wasn’t your anything! You ignored all of the bile rising in your mouth as you pushed him away, glaring at him when he tried to reach for you again.

“Is this how you get your omegas? Huh? Force your stinky scent on them until they get drunk?”

“Ha? Every omega that I’ve been with has been consensual.” Watanabe growled, suddenly standing tall. You gulped, realizing what your words could’ve implied.

It wasn’t rare for certain alphas, and even omegas, to force their scent on someone. After a while, the scent could force the person into a drunk like state—even worse, a heat or rut.

However it wasn’t easy to do. Your scent had to be potent. And even then, it wouldn’t work on everyone. People were weak to certain scents. You remember Miya stating lavender scents seemed to send her into a daze from just a few whiffs.

“S-Sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.” You whispered. For some reason, you didn’t want him angry at you. The mere thought that he could be angry was anxiety inducing.

“What’s your problem? Why is your scent so weak? Why are you so scared to be called an omega?”

“I—”

“Riki-Kun? Is that you?”

You looked over to see a pretty girl holding an umbrella, her doe eyes staring at you and Watanabe. She was cute. So cute and omega like. And she was on first name basis with him? You felt bile rise in your throat and you quickly covered your mouth, feeling tears well in your eyes.

What the fuck? What the fuck was this feeling?

“What are you doing out here alone, Rina-Chan? It’s late.” Watanabe asked, a look of worry on his face.

Chan…?

Rina-Chan?

りなちゃん….

You pulled off your jacket and placed it on your head before sprinting away, ignoring Watanabe and Rina’s shared confusion. You kept running, running and running as your feet splashed into puddles. Rain sprinkled down onto you, soaking your jacket and in turn yourself. It was hardly a true cover.

The apartment door closed behind you as you took a deep breath, finally reaching home in record time. Water pooled your feet as you slowly toed off your sneakers. Rina-Chan? Rina-Chan….

You couldn’t help the bitter laugh that left your lips. The hell was wrong with you? You were jealous? Over a guy his classmates literally said had a one night stand? Omegas were flirting with him unabashedly.

Why were you jealous?

Your feet shifted just a bit before you felt a squeeze in your abdomen. A scream left your lips as you collapsed onto the floor, curling into yourself as the pain began to transfer around your body. Tears pricked your eyes as you gripped your stomach, whining and crying about the pain.

It felt so similar to when you had stopped taking Limited X. But it didn’t make sense, you took it not even a week ago. Your whines turned into wails as your breathing began to quicken. Needed someone.

Needed Miya.

Riki…

Were you… really an omega?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

➝ 抑制剤を補充する

𝟔 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐨

❝ どんだけ役立たずなんだ！ ❞

“You never do what I’ve asked of you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“—You think a sorry can fix this?!.”

“I…”

“Your father screams at me like it’s my fault! It’s you that didn’t do what was needed! But it’s my fault, huh?! Hah?! Are you trying to make a fool out of me?”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Shut up. Don’t you ever be like your sister, got it? That slut. She should’ve been the only disgrace… but you show up. A late bloomer at that. Get out of my sight.”

“Please… I’m sorry….”

“Get out!”

抑制剤を補充する。。。。？

“(Name)-Kun? You gotta drink this, okay?” A cup of cool water is pressed against your lips as you gently lift your head, eagerly gulping it down. It soothes your burned throat as you cough, curling back into your body on the bed. Miya gently pats your back as she rests the cup on your night stand.

“I was able to get… Limited X. It’s not your usual pack. Only four capsules. I made you take it last night.”

You hummed, closing your eyes. “Mhm… Thank you.”

“I talked to your professors. Told them that you’re sick.” Miya sighed softly as she picked at her nails. “Do you need anything else? You should really visit the hospital…”

“No. They’ll just tell me to get off Limited X.”

“They’d be right…”

You didn’t answer her.

You felt her eyes watching you before she patted your back, leaving your room. A heat. You had felt the small fraction of what a heat will be. It’s crazy. You felt as if you’d die. But you didn’t understand why you were suddenly forced into one.

The thought of Watanabe creeped into your head. Him? His scent alone? So silly. It was so silly that you could’ve laughed if you had the strength to.

Your body curled into itself as you gripped the bedsheets beneath you.

You missed the apricots.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

A cool bottle of strawberry milk is pressed against your neck, causing you to shriek. Miya laughed as she sat down beside you, placing the bottle near your notebook. You got a few glances from the other students in the library but everyone was mostly set on ignoring you.

“Special delivery!” She said, smiling.

“Ah, thanks. I haven’t had strawberry milk in forever!” You twisted off the cap and took a quick sip, humming at the sweet flavor coating your taste buds.

Miya hummed, “it wasn’t me. Watanabe gave it to me.”

“Eh…? He gave it to you?”

“Mhm. Told me to give it to you. He asked if you’re okay.” She pulled out her own textbook and notebook, getting straight to work.

You could only stare blankly at her. Watanabe? Your eyes flickered at the cold drink in your hand as you tilted it around. There wasn’t a note or anything on it. Why would he give you something?

“Did he say anything else?”

Miya didn’t look up from her notebook. “Nah. He walked away before I could ask why he was giving it to you. Some alpha.” She muttered, rolling her eyes.

A slight grin pulled on your lips. Miya really did act like your alpha. Watanabe was probably right in her being your alpha before you got mated. But you pushed the thought away, you’d never get mated. Didn’t even have the scent gland for it to work.

“Oh,” Miya suddenly turned over to face you. “Did something between you two at the party? Watanabe kept asking about you when you were out last week. You’re not even in my philosophy class.”

You shook your head, your voice rising in pitch as you answered with a quick, “no!”

Miya’s eyebrows rose as she stared at you with an unconvinced frown. “No? Okay… if he bothers you, come to me. I’ll defend your honor.”

A giggle left your lips at the thought of Miya’s short stature going against Watanabe’s taller frame. That would be a fight you’d pay to see.

“Mhm. Thank you, Alpha~” You teased, grabbing her arm and nuzzling into her shirt.

“Oi!! Not in public! You’re scaring away my potential mate!”

You only laughed. “There’s not even any omegas here. Not the one you like anyway.”

Miya blushed slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Sure…”

お母さん

↳ Why haven’t you responded？ (4:00 PM)

↳ You need to replenish your suppressants. (4:01 PM)

↳ Don’t make me tell your father (4:01 PM)

↳ Call me, now (4:03 PM)

“I’ll be right back.”

You grabbed your phone, your knuckles whitening as you stormed out of the library. Your feet carry you to one of the empty classrooms nearby and kick the door shut behind you. The phone immediately starts ringing, her name appearing on the screen. Like a curse, she never leaves you alone.

It rings for a second longer before you finally answer it, pressing it against your ear. “What?”

“‘What?’ Is that how you speak to your mother?”

“Unless you are calling about my grades, why are you speaking to me?”

“Tch, ungrateful brat. Have you restocked on Limited X? It can’t possibly be that expensive.”

“You haven’t bought it in years, you don’t know just how expensive it is to get it from fucking America.”

“I know you aren’t raising your voice at me, Tanaka (Name). Are you suggesting that you know more than me?”

“You…” A struggled groan left your throat as you tried to calm down. Just talking to her sent you like this—making you feel as if you were insane. Why couldn’t you have a normal mother? “Please, I have to focus on groceries, tuition, and my rent. I can’t spend everything on stupid fucking suppressants.”

“You think I care? You were the one to refuse our help to pay for your tuition. You decided to go to a lesser known college. You decided to get your apartment without your father’s permission.”

“Because I knew you’d use that shit against me! I’ll refill it, okay? I’m getting paid next week. Please, don’t call me unless needed.”

“You little… Why are you ignoring your brother and father? You won’t even tell us your address? But you let that Furukawa around you.”

“Stop it… please you’re making this more difficult. Why can’t you be a normal mom?”

“Normal mom?! You listen here, (Name). I’m the best mother you could ever have—a purebred alpha female. I did everything for you even after you disappointed me—”

Your mother’s droning was cut short when your phone was snatched from your grip. You look back to see Watanabe, his gaze blank as he pressed the phone against his ear. When did he even get here? Any semblance of a thought was gone as you watched him grin at something your mother said.

“Hello, I’m assuming you’re Tanaka’s mother? You’re quite loud.” He asked, staring right at you. Just what was he doing? You reached out to try and stop him but he easily grabbed your wrist, pulling you close so you could rest against his chest. “Who am I? Your future son-in-law. Good bye.”

He ended the call and slid your phone in his back pocket, a sly smirk on his lips as he laughed. His free hand reached up and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you to rest your face right on his shoulder. Your body tried to protest but his scent instantly attacked your nostrils.

Any fight was gone in a flash as you melted against his body.

You stood against his body for a moment or so, being gently swayed.

“It’s okay.” He suddenly whispered, patting your back. “You’re safe.”

“Ngh?” You whined, noticing the wet feeling on your cheeks. Tears…? You reached up and wiped at your face. You’ve been crying for a moment judging by how wet your face was. The tears just reminded you why you ignored her so much. Why you tried so hard to move out on your own terms.

Watanabe tried to pull away from you but you quickly gripped his shirt. The sound of a low growl filled the empty classroom. Your eyes widen in shock. You… you made that sound? You’ve never made a sound like that before, especially after taking Limited X.

A teasing smirk pulled on Watanabe’s lips. “Mhm? My omega doesn’t want me to go?” He laughed, gripping your chin between his thumb and index finger, making you look up at him.

My?

My omega?

A slight rumble rose in your throat at his words. What the hell was this? Watanabe could tell you were a bit fearful and he only rolled his eyes.

“You’re purring, nothing deadly.” He said, tapping your cheek. “Seriously, were you raised in the woods? Why do you know nothing about your body?”

He didn’t hear everything? A sigh of relief left your body. He must’ve came in during the end of the conversation. The thought of him knowing that you took Limited X sent a panic inside your heart.

Everyone viewed Limited X as terrible. Alphas even more so due to their protective nature. You feared him knowing would send him into a rage.

Wait.

Wait, why did you even care about him?

Suddenly the closeness of his body against yours became too much. You pulled away and held a hand out, making sure he didn’t try to come close again.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Watanabe hummed. “Why are you apologizing? I liked it. I want to hear you purr again. I can fall asleep to it.”

You blushed at his words. “You…! Don’t you have an omega waiting for you?”

“Omega?”

“‘Rina-Chan’… but knowing you, you have more after her!” You glared at him, crossing your arms underneath your chest.

“My sister?”

“…EH?!”

“Rina is my little sister.” Watanabe said, a look of disgust on his face. “Gross, Tanaka. Did you really think she was a past fling of mines? I don’t let just anyone call me by my first name.”

Embarrassment flushed through your body. Oh god. Oh my fucking god. This was mortifying. Watanabe laughed cruelly behind you as you whined and stumbled over to the nearby teacher desk, needing a moment to process the situation.

You really just called his little sister a past conquest…

“But… why does she call you by your name? Wouldn’t she call you Onii-Chan?”

“I find the title cringy.” Watanabe said bluntly, pulling out his phone as he began to text someone. “But is that why you ran away that day? Were you… jealous?”

“I’d never be jealous over a playboy! I have higher standards than that!”

“Sure.” He walked over to where you stood pressed against the desk, caging you in. You blushed, leaning back as he leaned in closer, your noses touching. “I haven’t talked to anyone since I met you.”

“So?!” You pouted, eyes looking at anything but him.

“You feel it. I know you do.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against your neck, earning a strangled gasp from you. “I don’t know if it’s love, but I felt like a school boy when I saw you for the first time.”

“School boy…?”

He hummed, nipping near your scent gland. “Thought I was having a heart attack. Your scent is hard to notice but I’ve always had a great sense of smell. I don’t know how your scent is muted even when I’m so close.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly why. You were more shocked that he could smell anything. Curiosity crept in your head as you finally glanced down at him as he continued to nuzzle near your scent glad. “What’s… my scent?”

“You don’t know your scent?” He whispered, causing you to flinch. Fuck. “…Purin. You smell like Purin.”

“Purin…? Like the pudding? I smell like pudding?” You couldn’t help the slight laugh leaving your lips, your head tilting back.

Watanabe didn’t seem to find it as funny as you. “Omegas usually smell like food, typically desserts. Or flowers.”

“You smell like Japanese Apricot.”

“I know. I smell myself everyday. Got many teasing remarks for it.” His hand left the table as it suddenly gripped your thigh, warning a shriek from you at the sudden movement. “But you seem to enjoy it, huh? It makes you drunk.”

You watched with wide eyes as his hand slowly traveled up your thigh, resting right on your crotch. A strangled moan left your lips as he rutted his palm against your growing bulge.

“Stop me, Tanaka. Stop me before I go too far.”

His cat like eyes stared up at you, his face devoid of any sly emotion. You could see a tightness in his jaw. Everything in your body thought back to what your mother taught you. What would degrade the Tanaka family name.

“(Name)…” You whispered, biting your lip. “I… don’t wanna be a Tanaka to you.” Your hands gently reach over and grip his shoulders, pulling him close.

“You won’t be.”

You rut your body against his, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He only hummed and pulled you even closer. Your crotch rutted against his—a hopeful shiver leaving your body as you feel his bulge. Soft kisses are pressed against your skin as his hands dig into your waist.

Sounds of soft breathy moans fill the classroom as your hands trail his body, settling on gripping his hair as he rutted against you. Your bulges rubbing together with the pained jeans acting as a barrier you wanted to tear apart.

The wind is knocked out of you as he slammed you against the desk, knocking away the papers that cluttered it.

You can hear him growling, his nails clawing the polished wood beneath you. It wasn’t enough. Sure you had always imagined dry humping as something hot but your body didn’t need it right now. It wanted more. It needed more.

“Mmh, more…” You whimpered, tugging at his hair. “Fuck me. Please.”

His rutting slowed as he chuckled, burying his face in your neck. “Can’t. I don’t have a condom.”

“You care about protection?!” You whined, arching your back against the desk.

“You’re so…” He bit down on the curve of your neck, earning a silent moan as your nails dug into his back. Good thing he still had on his jacket.

He pulled away and tugged at your jeans, letting your cock plop free. Your tip was already leaking pre-cum, coating your tummy. You watched with a bated breath as he pulled down his own jeans and boxers. The sight of his cock sent you into a frenzy.

It was huge. But that was normal. Alphas had big cocks.

But it looked so thick. It dwarfed your mere three inches. He pressed his cock against yours, smirking at how tiny you looked near his. “So cute.”

You glared at him but you couldn’t ignore the slight swelling at the bottom of his cock. His knot. You never knew that alphas knots were always there even when not in rut. It looked a bit smaller but you knew it must’ve swelled during rut.

A greedy thought filled your mind at the thought of feeling his knot. Would it hurt? How big would he stretch you?

He pulled you close and gripped your legs, pushing them up to rest on his shoulder. His cock slipped between your legs as it rubbed against your cock. A strained hiss left your throat as you felt the arousal building up all over again.

“Be good and keep quiet.” His thrusts were slow, only needing one of his hands to grip both of your thighs. You shivered and gripped at the desk beneath you, your toes curling at the pleasure. The friction hurt—that wasn’t a shock but the pre-cum became some sort of lubricant.

His hips slammed into you, sending you upwards but he easily pulled you back down. Your moans filled the room as your toes curled, cock rubbing against his dejectedly. The thought of cumming untouched wasn’t something you ever wanted but you wondered how pleasurable some rutting could make you feel.

Your moans became a crescendo as each thrust became stronger, shaking your body with the force that you could only assume was of an alpha. There was growing wetness you felt near your ass but you couldn’t question it at the moment—wanting to cum already.

“Ah, ah, ah….! Alpha, Alpha, gonna cum…” You whined, your hand reaching up to grip at his arm for some type of purchase. This orgasm didn’t feel normal—it felt stronger than anything you ever experienced. Was this the orgasm of an omega?

He grinned, his breathing stuttering as he picked up the pace. “If you act like this from some rutting… I can’t wait to hear you when I fuck you. Your scent is finally becoming potent.”

“Ngh…? My… ah! Wa—Wait..!”

You let out a loud scream, quickly covering your mouth as your back arched. Your cock squirted against your stomach as the orgasm attacked your body. It felt like an out of body experience—something you couldn’t give yourself.

Those online posts you used to read from omegas didn’t seem so far fetched anymore…

The sound of a loud grunt caught your attention as his cum spilled your stomach next, coating the inside of your thighs and cock. Your legs felt like jelly as he released his grip on them, gently moving them down to rest on the desk.

You felt weird. It was a good and bad weird.

You just had sex in a classroom. With Watanabe Riki. A playboy. A playboy who somehow been able to smell a scent off you.

“Watanabe…?” You whispered, glancing over at him as he began to clean you off with his jacket. You didn’t have the mental capacity to scold him for unnecessarily dirtying his clothes.

“Riki.” He hummed, pulling up his pants.

The familiar rumbling in your chest returned. “Riki… Riki… hehe…” You giggled, biting your lip. “Ngh… what was I… ah… Riki… was this… a one time thing..?”

“I told you, I don’t let just anyone call me by my name.”

“Then…”

“I’m courting you. You accepted the first gift.”

“What?” You whispered, trying to sit up to look up at him properly.

“I told you. Furukawa is your alpha at the moment. I had to give the courting gift to her… and she gave it to you, that means she approves of me.”

To your shock, Riki seemed way more… traditional than you thought. A playboy like him courting through such a way was interesting. Riki was nothing compared to anything you could’ve imagined.

You tried to say something when the familiar pain in your gut came back with a vengeance. A shrill animalistic scream left your throat as your body spasmed, rolling off the desk. Riki quickly caught you before you hit the ground. He was yelling something but you couldn’t hear him.

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

You took the pill. You took the pill. You took two.

Ume.

Your face was suddenly pressed against Riki’s neck, your nose right on his scent gland. You could smell everything. His scent blocker was off. There was nothing muffling Ume anymore. Somehow, his scent calmed you down. Your body was still killing you, your stomach churning and cramping but his scent acted like a medicine.

“(Name)!”

There was muffling, two voices speaking in a swirl. Citrus began to mingle with Ume, swirling around in a dance like the voices.

Miya…?

The pain continued to ravish your body but having the two scents that brought you peace made you calm down.

Your two alphas.

They smelt so good together.

You felt your body be shifted around as the scents began to sour a bit. Just as you were being carried somewhere, you felt something wet soak your boxers. You didn’t even realize they had put your clothes back on.

Wet.

Something wet and sticky.

Slick.

Riki’s back!!! I like this new version of him so much more. Yes this will have multiple chapters. Technically it’s not a slow burn in romance, but a slow burn in penetrative sex! Hope yall like Miya cuz she will be your platonic alpha lmao. Comment if you wanna be tagged for pt 2!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @lanoslamp @sweetheart4you @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @remdayz @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @chososlittlestuttyboy @pookiemax

Translations:

抑制剤を補充する — “replenish your suppressants”

❝聞いているか, (Name)？❞ — “Are you listening, (Name)?”

❝ どんだけ役立たずなんだ！❞ — “How useless you are!”

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

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