#so he can punch things in the head and go WHAT THE FUCK??????

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[disgustingtwitches]

@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!

You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.

“Gotta warm you up properly.”

He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 

You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.

“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”

As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 

When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 

Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 

He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.

Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 

“Ye ready?” 

Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.

“Uh-huh.”

You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 

“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 

“No, I want to.” 

Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,

“Ready.”

There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,

“Jesus…fuck…”

He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 

“Johnny.”

“Yeah, LT?”

“Ease up.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 

Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,

“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 

You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 

“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”

Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 

A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,

“Christ, LT.”

“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”

There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 

“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”

He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 

You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 

“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 

You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 

“Uh-huh,”

It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 

Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 

“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.

His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 

“You got one more in you?”

Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 

“Always.”

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

i’m alive i’m here (i’m fulfilling my duties bc damn a bitch went offline for 9 days and is behind on everything 😭) ⬇️

You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.

ugh i miss ur writing sm i love how this scene felt “slow” like u were navigating this lagged moment with her because nothing felt real

As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.

i don’t give a shit the one thing i love more than romance stories is sibling relationships 😭 they’re my heart n soul

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

i fear he won’t do it 😭😃

“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

jj 😭😭😭 leave her alone 😭😭😭

"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."

screaming into my pillow ur dialogues r too good

A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.

okay pause ✋🏼 not the thematic parallel to abusive and neglectful parental figures i cannot handle this

You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it.

THIS LINE EATS SO HARD 😭😭😭

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

my jj would swing at ur jj for the way ur talking to ur sister

“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”

PERIOD!!!!

 “He was good to me.”

girl *I* held my breath

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.

i love ur sarah sm mines a bitchhh 🙂‍↕️✋🏼

“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE HIS PUNK ASS IS GONNA BE LIKE “i don’t know a maybank”

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

YOU PUNK ASS BITCH

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give.

no i didn’t (personally cannot scream LOL)

Six months had passed since that day

what the actual fuck

You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat. 

such good imagery god i love this

Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there. 

my heart is pounding omg

“You had six months.”

YIKES 😬

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”

i’m shaking rn pls give a girl some respite

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”

i’m throwing punches into my pillow rn biting my teeth ohmygod

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

go away demon 👹 @ gigi

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier. 

oh we’re in season 3 now ok

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

i’m literally scraping my fingernails against chalkboards rn pls stop this madness 🛑🛑🛑

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

gonna die ok 🪦

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you. 

You were in love with Rafe Cameron. 

oh my fucking god u did it again

final thoughts — ohmygod. i dont know why i kept putting off reading this? i think a part of me was scared because the literal content warning was “aka angst” and i said no. anyways, first and foremost u done it again gigi. what i was so impressed about this chapter was ur ability to create such flowing, strong and long dialogues. the one between jj and reader i read twice because i can’t believe how naturally-paced this story goes through that u don’t even realized it’s chunks on chunks of dialogues. that’s such an incredible feat and knowing now that ur from europe and english is probably a second language? the way u select the right words at the right time is an talent i strive to have. i’m like re-editing in my head being like “would i come up with that?” and being like “yeah i would’ve ended it there (bc i don’t know how to elongate a scene) but gigi knew how to keep it going.” gigi, when i tell u that’s one of the most impressive skills i’ve ever seen in my life i’m so serious. also, the way you structure and keep a consistent flow of emotions. the beginning of the story is stretched out in a way that i cinematically imagined a lagged moment. yk how in euphoria where it drags a scene from one part to the next? like that. and then the ending, when i said i was shaking, i was truly shaking. u had my heart clutched in ur hand and u just SQUEEZED IT 😭 💔 the way i felt everything and was so scared and panicking and my eyes wanted to read ahead because i wanted to know what happens but i also wanted to enjoy the writing 😭 u got me doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to read 😃 i thoroughly enjoyed this to the very end and ngl, i am so scared to read the next chapter i think imma hold off for a min…

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - five

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

warnings: angst <3333333 for everyone <33; might need some editing bc im too tired to check everything but yeah

word count: 7.7k

The ride back to home was a blur. The plane ride, the ferry.

Everything. 

Every mile that took you further from Rafe felt like a wound being reopened. The police officers tried to engage you in conversation, but your responses were monosyllabic at best. They eventually gave up, letting you stare out the window in silence.

When you finally arrived, the sight of the familiar streets of The Cut did little to comfort you. Your house felt alien, a place you barely recognized. The officers escorted you inside, their presence a reminder of the reality you were returning to. 

“Your brother and your friends were rescued from a remote island a while ago. He was informed of your whereabouts an hour ago, he’ll be here soon.”

Their words barely registered.

You nodded numbly; your mind still stuck between the events that had unfolded just two days ago.

What kind of sister had you turned into? Barely phased over the fact your little brother was thankfully alive and well? You were supposed to protect him. 

Sensing your detachment, they exchanged a look before retreating to the porch, giving you some semblance of privacy.

You wandered through the house, your steps heavy. Each room felt like a snapshot from another life. The couch where you and your brother used to bicker over TV shows when Luke spent days doing God knows what, the kitchen table where meals were shared and stories were told, only between you two– they all seemed like relics of a past you could no longer touch.

Things would never be the same, you knew that.

You drifted to your room, collapsing onto the small bed. The familiar scent of home did little to soothe the ache in your chest. It didn’t feel right. It never did, only when your brother was around, but now, not even that thought gave you faith as you closed your eyes, picturing Rafe’s face. His smile, his touch, his voice – they were all painfully vivid.

That must be your punishment. 

A soft knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. You sat up, heart racing. Your body was still on high alert, every little noise sent shivers down your skin. The blasting of the gunshots was still deeply rooted in your brain. It hadn’t even been three days. 

The old wooden door creaked open, and your brother's face appeared, bright blue eyes wide with concern. He rushed to your side, pulling you into a tight embrace nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “Holy shit.”

You clung to him, the dam breaking as tears streamed down your face. The sobs wracked your body as JJ held you like you used to hold him. It devastated you. It felt so disappointing. He was never supposed to be the one carrying the family burden, you were. After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, wiping your tears. Your brother sat beside you, his eyes searching your face.

“You’re not hurt?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words, but all you managed to blurt out was a small “No. You?”

“No,” JJ nodded, lips pursed into a tight line as if he was figuring out what to say next, “They told me about the shooting.”

Your heart sank further at his words. You had hoped to avoid talking about it, at least for a little while. But he was watching you like he used to when you would act as a human shield for him, you couldn't brush it aside.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You reached out and squeezed his hand. "What about you? How did you get off that island?"

JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It was a mess. We were stuck there for weeks, trying to find a way out. Pope and Kie kept us sane, but it was rough. We finally managed to signal a passing boat, and they rescued us. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You squeezed his hand tighter, guilt and gratitude warring within you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, JJ."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I—I should’ve saved you on that ship, okay? It’s on me, not you.”

You’d cry again if you didn’t feel like your body was about to collapse, “You did everything you could. We both did. It's not your fault."

“The one time we changed places, and I couldn’t do it.”

"Jay—"

"I should have been there for you," He insisted, "I hated it."

It was your fault, not his. You pulled him into another hug, trying to convey with your touch what words couldn't express. The weight of your shared guilt and pain was almost suffocating, but at least you were together. You felt his body shaking, whether, from exhaustion or emotion, you couldn't tell.

When you finally let go, you took a deep breath, hoping to find some semblance of strength.

"We’re gonna be okay.”

JJ nodded, though you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. "I know. It's just... hard."

"I get it. But we're both here, we're alive.”

A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, it was a fragile peace, but it was something. The familiar sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside the window was a reminder that life continued, even when it felt like your world had stopped.

"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" JJ's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

If he only knew. The one time you managed to close your eyes and sleep you were plagued by nightmares of JJ finding out what you’d done. About you and Rafe. It made you want to scratch your skin raw. 

“Yeah.”

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, a mirror of your own fatigue. You knew you both needed rest, but the thought of sleep was daunting. The nightmares felt too close, the darkness too suffocating.

"Let's try to get some sleep," You suggested softly, though you weren't sure you could follow your own advice. "We both need it, ‘kay?”

JJ nodded, but you could see the wariness in his eyes. He laid down next to you, the bed barely accommodating the both of you.

As you both settled in, the familiar warmth of his presence was a small comfort, a reminder that despite everything, you were still here together.

The minutes ticked by in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic crashing of the waves outside. You focused on that, letting it be your anchor. Slowly, the tension in your body started to ease, the weight of the day’s events beginning to lift, even if just a little.

"Do you remember the first time we went out on the boat alone?" JJ's voice was a whisper in the darkness, a fragile thread connecting the past to the present.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah. You insisted you knew how to steer, and we almost ended up crashing into that sandbank."

He chuckled softly. "We were so scared. But you figured it out. You always did."

The memory was a bittersweet reminder of simpler times, a time when your biggest worry was navigating the boat, not navigating the chaos your lives had become. When you weren’t a complete fuck up.

Exhaustion finally began to overtake you, your eyes growing heavy. JJ's breathing evened out beside you, a comforting rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Not without losing him in the process. 

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. Completely void, much like yourself these days. 

Morning came too soon, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the room.

You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment before the events of the past days came rushing back. JJ was still asleep beside you, his face peaceful in repose.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The officer who comforted you after the shooting promised to call as soon as he got an update on Rafe’s condition. And so far? No call.

You wondered if the hospital or the police had contacted Sarah. She was Rafe’s closest family, aside from Wheezie who was still a kid, and Ward who was a sought-out criminal. It made sense that they would reach out to her.

If you rang the hospital, they wouldn’t disclose a thing, you weren’t family, and it wasn’t like you could ask Sarah. She would know something was wrong the moment you asked about Rafe. It was risky. 

The kitchen felt eerily quiet, the early morning light casting long shadows on the walls. You made yourself a cup of coffee, the warmth a small comfort against the chill that had settled in your bones.

Sitting at the table, you sipped slowly, trying to come up with some sort of tangible plan. You wanted to know if he was okay, needed to know, but every option seemed fraught with risk.

Your new phone buzzed on the table, jolting you from your thoughts.

You picked it up, heart pounding as you saw an unknown number flashing on the screen. You hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hello?”

“This is Officer Thompson. I promised I’d keep you updated on Rafe Cameron’s condition.”

You closed your eyes, thanking God for finally giving you some piece of mind, “Yes, thank you.”

“He’s stable,” Officer Thompson continued. “The surgery went well, and he’s in recovery. It’ll be a while before he’s fully back on his feet, but he’s out of immediate danger.”

The knot in your stomach loosened slightly. “Thank you for letting me know.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“I know this is difficult, but you should focus on your own recovery too. There’s a chance the feds will contact you, they’re building their case on Ward. What happened to you is, unfortunately, considered a minor crime compared to everything he’s done, so maybe you’ll get some peace. If not, you might have to testify against him.”

The idea of having to testify against Ward made you uncomfortable to no end. Reliving those moments in front of a courtroom full of strangers seemed unbearable. 

“And Rafe? What are his charges?”

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

A deal. It was a slim chance, but it was something. You hated yourself for the weight that left your shoulders. He should be locked up, you knew that, back then you prayed for the day he paid for what he did and yet here you were, holding on to any possibility of freedom.

You thanked Officer Thompson again and ended the call, setting your phone down with a shaky hand. The coffee had grown cold, but you didn't have the energy to make another cup. You sat there for a long moment, staring into space, trying to gather your thoughts.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you turned to see JJ standing in the doorway, his hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Who was that?” He asked, his voice still groggy.

“Uh—Officer Thompson. He was at the scene the other day and told me he’d keep me updated.”

JJ tilted his head, his messy bed hair following suit, “Updated on what?”

“Rafe’s condition,” You replied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. It was a half-lie. At least you were giving him something. 

JJ stopped in his tracks, “And you care because…?”

“For closure, I guess.”

JJ’s gaze softened slightly as he walked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting across from you.

“You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

You winced inwardly. "JJ, you can't just say stuff like that.”

He leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "Why not? After everything he’s done, he deserves whatever he gets."

You couldn't argue with that, but part of you still felt the need to defend Rafe. He saved your life.

“He’s still a human being, okay?”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. "Barely.”

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so angry, so defensive. But it made its way up your body until your lips were moving again, practically spitting the words out.

“He saved my life.”

Your brother stared at you like you were speaking another language, “Saved your life? Are you serious? It’s his fault you were there in the first place!”

“He chose to help me. And I can't just forget that."

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

"This is insane. One good deed doesn't erase all the bad he's done."

You reached for his back, “I know that.”

He pulled away from your touch, your fingers only brushing against his shirt, “Do you?”

His retreat felt like a knife to your heart. JJ had always been your rock, the one person you could count on. Seeing him look at you with such disbelief and anger made you feel more isolated than ever. He looked at you like you’d imagined in your nightmares, but the real thing felt ten times worse. 

"I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m just saying… it’s complicated."

He paced around the kitchen table.

"Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is alive or dead. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who put us through hell gets to play hero for a day and suddenly he's got your sympathy."

"It's not sympathy," You insisted, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay collected. You never raised your voice at him. "It's just... I don't know. I saw a different side of him. Maybe he can change. Or at least help put Ward away."

JJ stopped and spun around to face you, his eyes blazing. "And what if he doesn't? What if this is all part of some twisted game for him? People like Rafe don't just change, okay? They manipulate, they hurt, they destroy."

“JJ—"

“You sound exactly like her.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. Suddenly your entire soul felt like it was being drained out and slashed into pieces.

You spent a lifetime hearing it, from Luke.

A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s exactly the type of bullshit she would spit out about dad, wasn’t it? And look where it got her.”

Memories of your mother flooded back. The excuses, the false hope, and the endless cycle of pain and disappointment. You weren’t her, were you? Holding out for a man who was never going to change, who would only inflict pain upon your life? It couldn’t be. You spent your entire life making sure you were nothing like her.

It wasn’t fair.

You weren’t making excuses for Rafe as your mother did for Luke. You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you a glimpse of it. You stood there, feeling the weight of his accusation like a leaden cloak.

How could he think you were blind to Rafe’s faults? You knew them all too well. Standing there in the kitchen, under the harsh morning light, you felt exposed, vulnerable, and fiercely defensive.

“I’m not her,” You finally managed to say, your voice cracking, “I’m not defending him like she did.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “I’m not doing this with you, not right now.” 

You turned away, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to regain your composure.

He followed you hot on your trail, "Don't walk away from me.”

"I'm not defending him," You insisted, your back still to him, “I’m just trying to understand, okay?”

“Understand what? Jesus, Rafe is who he is.”

"And maybe he can change," You shot back, the words spilling out despite the tightening knot in your chest. "Maybe he saved my life because he wants to change."

"He's manipulating you," JJ retorted, his jaw clenched. "Just like he always does. You went through some traumatic shit together, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything."

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face him again. Your head was tingling, the headache already forming itself, and you felt hot all-over. 

“Some traumatic shit?” You repeated, “Are you fucking serious?”

JJ raised both his hands, tangling them in his hair in frustration, “You almost died, and now you're here defending the guy who put you in that position?"

The accusation stung. You felt the heat rise in your chest. You hated fighting with your brother. You were letting your feelings for Rafe get between the two of you.

He shook his head, disappointment oozing from him in waves, "Good luck with that. Just don't expect me to sit here and act like everything's okay."

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes, "I'm not asking you to. Can't you see that maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem?"

“All I know is what he's done to us, to you."

"And what about what he did for me?" You shot back, the words bitter on your tongue.

“And what did he do exactly?" Your lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from his mouth, “What did you do?”

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. His accusation lingered in the air, challenging you to defend the indefensible. The truth was there, clawing at your mind, but you couldn't bring yourself to voice it. 

Not to JJ, not yet.

"I don't expect you to understand," You finally said, voice strained, "But I’m not turning my back on him.”

JJ's eyes narrowed; frustration etched on his face. "Why?”

“Because I want to!” You screamed even though you hadn’t meant to. Tears of frustration fell as you raised your head, “And as far as I’m concerned, I’m still my own person and I can make my own decisions.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to evaporate. For a moment, the kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the instant regret that filled your bones.

Finally, JJ spoke, his voice low and strained. "Fine. Do what you want."

You watched as he turned away, his shoulders tense with anger or disappointment – perhaps both. His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet kitchen as he stormed out, leaving you standing there, feeling raw and exposed. It was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him, and the aftermath left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

Alone in the kitchen, you sank into your chair again, your energy completely drained. Part of you wanted to run after him, to explain, to make him understand. But he never would. None of them would.

Because unlike you, they weren’t stupid enough to sympathize with Rafe Cameron.

Sitting there, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd crossed a line, one you might not be able to uncross. You stared at your hands, still trembling from the argument, and let out a long, shaky breath. What was it about Rafe that had such a grip on you? 

You heard the front door open and close, a clear sign that JJ had left the house. Maybe it was for the best, giving you both time to cool down. You got up to pour the coffee down the sink, the sound of the liquid swirling away a tiny comfort.

You spent the entire day locked away in your room, avoiding any kind of social interaction, or the sun. Your phone buzzed again, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it.

You picked it up, expecting another call from Officer Thompson, but the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Sarah.

With a deep breath, you answered. “Hey sweets.”

“Hi,” Sarah’s voice was almost unsure. “JJ and the police called earlier, told us what happened. Are you okay? I’m on the mainland with John B, we’re taking the next ferry back home.” 

You closed your eyes, somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to face them yet.

“Yeah, I’m…Managing. I'm okay.”

“Good, that’s good,” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Have you heard anything about...Rafe?”

Had the hospital not called her? The question hung in the air. You had, but you didn’t know how much to share. 

“He’s stable. The surgery went well.”

Sarah sighed, “Good. That’s good to hear I guess.”

“Sarah,” You began, hesitating. “Did the hospital call you?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she replied, “Yeah. But I…I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew it was coming after the police called. But—Yeah, it’s just, it’s really hard.”

You didn’t know what to say, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re the only one not giving me shit about still…caring? I guess. He’s my brother, you know? And I want to hate him, so bad, but I can’t.”

"I get it, Sarah. He's your brother. It's okay to feel conflicted."

"Yeah," She exhaled heavily, "But I don't know how to deal with it. He's done so much harm, and yet. I keep hoping there's still some good left in him. I know there's no hope for my dad, but Rafe..."

She had seen him before Ward turned him into this. She still carried the guilt of reveling in their father’s approval, the clear favoritism that she never stood against for her brother, even though she could see her father’s fingers printed on Rafe’s cheeks. 

Her words echoed your inner struggle. You understood her—how love and hate could coexist in such a tangled mess when it came to family. 

 “He was good to me.”

There was a long pause.

You expected her to hang up on you, to call you a list of degrading names, all of which you felt you deserved. She had suffered deeply at the hands of her brother— the same brother you had come to care for, despite knowing the full extent of what he’d done. 

But you underestimated her.

Caught between your own anxiety and the dread of truth being exposed, you momentarily forgot just how compassionate and noble Sarah was. She possessed a goodness that mirrored your own—loyal, forgiving, and endlessly understanding.

Both lovers and fighters.

 "I know, the feds told me about the shooting," Sarah finally said, "And I think that's what makes it so hard. Picturing him as the same monster from before was a lot easier.”

You nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling a deep ache in your chest. "Yeah."

"I don't know what to do," She confessed, her vulnerability cutting through the distance between you. "Part of me wants to see him, to talk to him. And part of me wants to never look at him again."

"I think... whatever you decide, it's okay," You offered tentatively, not entirely sure if your words were comforting or just empty platitudes.

“John B disagrees.”

“Yeah, so does JJ.”

"I appreciate you telling me about Rafe," Sarah continued, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing it from anyone else."

You felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry you had to hear it like this, sweetheart. I wish things were different."

"We all do," she replied softly. "Thank you.”

“Of course," You said, "Take care of yourself.”

"You too. We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. See you soon."

The call ended, and you stared at your phone for a long moment, the screen dark and lifeless, much like yourself lately. 

You spent the next few days in a haze, avoiding JJ and the rest of your friends as much as possible. You’d only seen Sarah. Somehow her presence didn’t make you feel as nervous as you thought. It weirdly calmed you down. You’d always been close, ever since she joined the group, but now you felt like she was the only one who understood your point of view. 

You knew Pope and Kie wouldn’t, and you couldn’t blame them.

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself. It was a strange comfort; one you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.

The small house felt like a prison. It wasn’t until a week later, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore, that your phone buzzed with a message. It was the officer: "Rafe’s awake."

Your heart leaped into your throat. You still hadn’t told anyone the full extent of what had happened between you and him, and you weren’t sure you ever could. They knew he was in the hospital, that you two had gotten caught in a shooting, that he’d somehow saved your life. That was it. But now, with him awake…You didn’t know what to do.

With trembling hands, you dialed the number the officer had provided. After a few rings, someone answered.

"Hello, this is St. Michael Hospital. How can I help you?"

You snap out of your daze, "Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Rafe Cameron. I was told he’s awake."

There was a pause, the sound of keyboard keys clicking. "Yes, Mr. Cameron is awake. Are you a family member?"

“No. Uh, a friend, I guess—” You were about to ramble, not too certain of what to say, but settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

“Okay, just a minute please.”

The hold music was the only thing keeping you centered on the moment, each note heightening your anxiety. When the nurse returned, her tone was pitiful, and you knew then that you weren’t going to like her answer.

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

You wanted to hurl the phone into the ocean, plunge your head underwater, and only resurface when the ringing in your ears ceased.

 What the hell? 

You had spent weeks on edge, consumed by thoughts of him, hoping he would survive, praying for him despite not believing in that sort of thing. You didn't have it in you to put up a fight.

"No, that's all. Thank you." You ended the call and stared at your phone. 

Rafe didn’t want to speak with you.

You felt foolish, as if you were just now glimpsing the bigger picture and recognizing that maybe he didn’t care after all. Perhaps, on the island, you were the one thing keeping him grounded, but now? Now you were back to being a nobody, just a pogue.

It felt like everything you had shared was for nothing.

Had you imagined it? No, you knew you hadn’t.

Rafe had kissed you and touched you with the tenderness of a lover, as if you were precious and any rough movement might break you.

The moments you had shared, the way he had saved your life—maybe they didn’t mean as much to him as they did to you. The bond you thought you had formed with Rafe was, perhaps, a desperate attempt to find something good in the chaos.

The waves crashed against the shore, the sound a distant roar as you sat on the sand, a storm brewing inside. You tried to hold it together, to keep the facade of normalcy for a little longer, but it was getting harder with each passing day. This felt like it was the final straw.

Without warning, a scream ripped from your throat, raw and unfiltered. It echoed across the empty beach, a primal release of everything you had been bottling up.

The anger, the confusion, the hurt—it all came pouring out in that one moment. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the salty sea breeze.

You hadn’t cried properly in weeks. 

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give. The sun cast long shadows on the sand, the beach deserted except for you. Collapsing back onto the sand, you let the tears flow freely. 

There was no one to judge you, no one to see you fall apart. You’d spent a lifetime pulling yourself together, it was only fair you finally got to breathe properly. When the tears subsided, you wiped your face with the back of your hand and took a shuddering breath. The tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by a hollow ache.

You were many things, but none of them were weak and yet...It was almost unbearable, the way your mind replayed every interaction, every look, every word, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that would have warned you not to get attached.

The sound of footsteps in the sand pulled you from your thoughts.

You turned to see JJ approaching. Your heart sank; you weren’t ready to face him after the argument. He sat down next to you, silent for a moment as he followed your gaze out to the horizon.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Mom,” he continued, his tone filled with regret. “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That wasn’t fair.”

You swallowed hard, the tension easing slightly from your shoulders. “It’s okay, JJ. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I did, and I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t trust him, and I hate that you’ve been caught up in all this.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“I called the hospital. They said he’s awake, but he doesn’t want to speak with me.”

Your brother frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “That fucking asshole. After everything—”

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. “Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe he’s right.”

JJ’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, trying to believe his words. “I just... I thought there was more to it. That maybe he could change.”

“People like Rafe... it’s hard to change.”

“Yeah.”

 “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wanting to see the good in him.”

He spoke with such gentleness and wisdom. You forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore. That he’d also done his fair share of growing up way too fast. 

You leaned into his touch, “I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” JJ said firmly. “Together. You and me, like always.”

 “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the beach, you and JJ sat there in silence. The waves continued to crash against the shore, a reminder that life moved forward, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.

Maybe things would never go back to the way they were, but you had your brother, your friends, and a resilience you hadn’t known you possessed. 

⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Six months had passed since that day.

Life had settled into a fragile semblance of normalcy. The days were longer now, summer heat pressing down on The Cut, making the air thick and heavy. You had spent the afternoon alone, lounging in the living room with a half-read book and a broken fan that did little to ease the stifling heat. 

You were lost in your book when a loud, insistent banging on the door jolted you from your reverie. Few people would knock with such urgency.

The forceful banging on the door didn’t stop and you jolted upright.

Without thinking, you got up and flung the door open, irritation flaring. "What the f—"

Your words caught in your throat as you saw him standing there. 

"Rafe?" You blurted out. You immediately tried to close the door in his face, but he was quick. His hand shot out, holding it open, "Are you kidding me?" You hissed, pushing harder against the door.

"Maybank—"

"If you don't get off my property, I swear to fucking God—"

"Wait!" Rafe's voice was strained, his hand trembling as he held the door open. "Just listen for a second."

You glared at him, every instinct telling you to push harder, to shut him out. But something in his eyes—fear, desperation, a flicker of the Rafe you once knew—gave you pause.

The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out and terrifyingly pale.

The last update you had on him was from Sarah, months ago. He had left the hospital and kept sporadic contact, reaching out to her only every few weeks.

You never asked her about his well-being or what he was doing; despite guessing that he was cooperating with the police. At least you hoped he was. 

You were determined not to care anymore.

He leaned his weight against the doorframe, “You look good.”

You were going to slap the lack of common sense out of him. 

You scoffed, not letting your guard down. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down, struggling to find the words as he scratched the back of his head, “I... I needed to see you. To talk.”

“And I need you to crawl back to whatever hole you just creeped out of, have a good day.”

You tried to push the door shut again, but his grip tightened. “Please, just give me a minute.”

“You had six months.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was— It’s messed up, okay? I’m still working with the feds. I was losing it. Still am, probably. But I need to explain. Please, Maybank, just a minute.”

You hesitated the anger and hurt battling against the small, lingering part of you that still cared.

Finally, you stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to enter.

“Talk,” you said, your voice icy.

Rafe stepped inside, looking around your small living room as if seeing it for the first time, which you now realized he'd never been in your house.

He turned to face you, his expression earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. I felt—“, He took a deep breath, cheeks puffing, “Ashamed. I don’t know.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, keeping a safe distance between you.

“Ashamed? You’ve done a lot of things to be ashamed of. You can’t just show up after six months and expect everything to be fine.”

“I know,” He admitted, taking a deliberate small step closer to you, “I wasn’t expecting that. I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I’m in therapy and rehab, trying to get clean. I’ve been going to meetings. It’s been hell, but I’m trying.”

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. “Why should I believe you?”

He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to find the right words.

“Because you’re the only person who ever saw anything good in me. And I can’t forget that. I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know that your faith in me wasn’t for nothing.”

The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise. You had expected anger, arrogance, manipulation—but this was different. Genuine. It felt like you were back in that motel room, in his arms.

You let out a scoff, focusing your gaze on the couch you were just resting on, as you shifted your weight on your feet. “Is that all?”

Rafe's eyes darted to the floor, “No, it’s not all. I just—Shit. I need to make things right. With you. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”

You took a deep breath.

Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him another chance, but the other part of you—the part that had been hurt and abandoned—was screaming not to fall for it again.

“You didn’t even want to talk to me when you woke up.”

He looked up, guilt etched across his features. “I didn’t know how to face you after everything that happened. I was a mess.”

“So you shut me out?” You snapped, “You made me feel like I meant nothing.”

“That’s not true,” He snapped back, head whipping up, then immediately softened his tone, taking another step closer. “That’s not true. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I was getting better for you."

“Don’t lie to me.”

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you.”

“Cameron.”

Another step closer. His eyes pleading with you to understand. 

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

"I never lied to you," He repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared and confused, but I never lied.”

You felt your anger rising again, every muscle in your body tensing as you tried to keep control. “Scared and confused? That’s your excuse?”

Rafe flinched at your words, but he didn't back down. “I know how it sounds. I handled it all wrong. I’m trying to fix it.”

“You think saying sorry and showing up out of the blue makes it better? It doesn't erase the months of silence.”

His hands reached out, his palms open as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. “I’m not asking for forgiveness right away. I just want a chance to make things right.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You spat, your voice trembling with emotion, “How it felt, watching you almost die. I spent days wondering if you were going to be—” 

You stopped yourself, knowing that if you continued your voice would crack and the tears would start pouring down your cheeks.

You already cried enough for him. 

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You took a step back, putting more distance between you, needing the space to think clearly. “I needed you to be sorry six months ago.”

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier. 

Rafe noticed your eyes wandering to his head and ran a hand through his short hair, a hint of a self-conscious smile flickering across his lips. “Yeah, I uh, made some changes. Trying to start over, I guess.”

You nodded slightly, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice steadier now.

“I’m happy for you, but I can’t do this.”

“Pretty—"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you cut him off, “I feel guilty enough as it is around everyone else.”

“I told Sarah.”

His words hit you like a punch to your gut. 

“What?”

“About us.”

You felt your stomach drop and your vision narrow, the world tilting sideways as the reality of what he just said sank in. “You what?”

“I told her.” 

“You absolute fucking—” You hissed, your voice rising without warning, “Are you serious?!”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” His tone faltered to one that could’ve fallen on deaf ears if not attentive enough. “I needed someone to talk to, and she’s…my sister.”

“You thought it was the right thing to do?” You were shouting now, unable to contain your anger. “You think spilling everything to Sarah was the right thing to do? Did you ever consider how that might affect me? Or her?”

Rafe flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Of course you didn’t,” You nearly growled, pacing the small living room. “You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?”

“Listen— “ He opened his mouth undoubtedly to fire back with another half-assed apology - but you barreled forward, letting the months of bottled resentment continue to burst open.

“You’re so selfish.”

“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone,” His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, “It’s okay.”

“You really believe that?” You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “This is too much for her to keep to herself. It’ll eat away at her until she tells someone. And when that happens, my life here is over.”

Rafe looked stricken, his face pale. “I just—I needed someone to understand what I’m going through.”

For the first time, he took the time to explain what was going on in his head instead of letting his frustrations take over and kissing you.

“And what about what I’m going through?” You demanded. “Did you ever stop to think about that? I’ve been trying to move on, to rebuild my life, and you just waltz back in and blow everything up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You spotted his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely before.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Bitterness began to overpower the pit of your heaving chest, “Sorry doesn’t make it go away. You can’t just undo what you’ve done.”

“I know,” One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare., “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear.”

“Make it right? You can’t make this right, Rafe.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying, pretty. I really am.”

You felt a smidge of sympathy despite your anger. You could see the pain and desperation in his eyes, the same pain and desperation you had felt for the past six months. But that didn’t change the fact that he left you hanging for so long.

“I need you to leave,” you said finally, your voice cold and distant.

You expected him to put up a fight, to lash out, hide his emotions with empty threats and petty names. But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to leave. You watched him go in silence.

Part of you wanted to run after him, to give him another chance, to believe that he could change. But another part—the part that had been wounded and left to heal on its own—knew that it wasn’t that simple.

You had to protect yourself, even if it meant shutting him out for good.

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

You blinked, taken aback. "What?"

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the raw honesty in his eyes. "I don’t regret what happened. Between us. I regret how I handled it, how I hurt you, but I don’t regret feeling something real for once."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the suffocating heat seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold clarity. You crossed your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold onto your anger, your resolve. But his words had hit a nerve, bringing back memories you’d tried so hard to bury.

You looked away, unable to look at him, "It doesn’t change anything."

"I know.”

With that, he turned and walked out the door, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you standing there. The room felt emptier than it hand in months as you leaned your forehead against the cool wood over the door.

You pushed away from the door, needing something to distract yourself. 

You picked up your book, but the words blurred on the page. You tossed it aside, your thoughts too chaotic to focus. Instead, you paced the small living room, replaying the conversation in your mind.

You eventually collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. You did the right thing, so why did it hurt so bad? 

You felt like a wound had been reopened, and you hated him for it.

But you hated yourself more for letting him get to you. The hours dragged on, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows through the windows. You tried to lose yourself in anything—TV, reading, cleaning—but nothing could shake the gnawing feeling of unresolved problems that clung to you.

You only saw Rafe's face, his desperate eyes, his trembling hands.

You remembered the feel of his skin, the sound of his voice when he was vulnerable. The memories were too real, too persistent. You couldn't bring yourself to explain it to yourself. Your eyes begin to itch, warning you to think of something else.

Anything else but Rafe.

Was this heartbreak? No—it couldn't be. 

You weren't in love with Rafe Cameron.

 At least, you didn't think you were.

You had never allowed yourself to consider it, to dwell on what you felt for him. But now, in the stillness of your small living room…it was different. You never had a good parental figure to teach you these things.

All you knew was destruction, violence, and heartbreak. And although you’d done pretty well for yourself, all things considered, this was new to you.

The thought hit you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable.

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny the depth of your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you. 

You were in love with Rafe Cameron. 

[kiyo-cant-write]

Welp, I'm kinda back to request the guy again(y'know the RSA Silver anon). Tho you can call me as 🎵 anon. Thanks tho.

So I kinda have some little new idea pop in my head, I got the idea when I read some old scenarios. About Silver and Sebek, having a crush on Yuu. Then tries to fight over Yuu's attention. Just imagine they fight over Yuu and Yuu accidentally getting squish between their chest I mean check their PE uniform card, while they get too busy having a staring competition to notice Yuu got squish. Yuu intensely blushing, probably almost fainting

I hope you don't mind this.

silver and sebek fighting "over" yuu/reader ✧･ﾟ

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Name change initiated, tags updated.

Hello! I don't mind this! I like Silver and the rest of Diasomnia (though my personal bias is Malleus xD) And I hope I interpreted your idea well! My sincere apologies for taking a longer time to get this out, my health is not doing well at the moment.

Note to anyone looking to request that I currently have a very big request for all the first years in the works and it is taking me some time to complete. That said, requests will be slow to go out but are open, actually.

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Summary: [Name] is swept up in an argument between Silver and Sebek Zigvolt during flight class. Were they always this built?

TW/CW: None

Notes: pre-relationship, the reader is described as smaller than Sebek/Silver, the reader is the Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader

Guest Stars: Grim, Malleus Draconia (mentioned)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver & Sebek Zigvolt

Silver did not plan to be in the argument in the first place.

He isn't a very confrontational personality to begin with.

That, and his father raised him better (or he says that).

And meanwhile, Sebek is just Sebek-ing, that's how it starts.

The argument doesn't begin with Malleus but it's sure about Malleus now and Silver kind of wants to punch Sebek.

Sebek throws the first punch and Silver is defending himself.

The two of them are airheads sometimes and forget they're in a joint class and there are people everywhere.

[Name] is smaller than the two of them and ends up caught between them but neither of them cares to notice.

[Full Name] you are about to experience being smooshed between two guys who have trained as guards since childhood.

Sebek is still more or less yelling.

Silver effectively politely conveys "Shut the fuck up."

[Name] and the other students are BAFFLED.

It seemed that it would be a while before this is resolved...

Silver is the one to point out this is a ... position.

Sebek gets offended that Silver is protecting [Name].

But why? WHAT IS THIS HUMAN DOING TO HIM?

Silver chooses to repress his feelings.

Trauma responses or something (Book 7 did things to me)

Then [Name] fainted and both boys began to p a n i c !!

"This is all your fault, Silver!"

"Sebek, be quiet."

Silver's expression might have seemed neutral to anyone in Vargas' PE class who was watching but Sebek recognized this type of expression from his childhood. Silver was glaring daggers at him from his group's area.

But! This was a fight and Sebek would win (for Malleus).

"HOW DARE YOU INSULT WAKA-SAMA?!??" Sebek roared, ignoring the class around him as all of his senses focused on that cat.

It would be good to note that while it was a "fight." it was a fight that Silver did not want to be in. How had it even begun? Silver wasn't sure. He was trying to talk to one of his classmates about something and then Sebek started yelling (really, who decided to let joint classes be with the first years?) and soon after, this had started.

"NYA! WHAT DID YOU SAY EYEBROWS?" Grim fired back at Sebek.

Raised by General Lilia Vanrouge, Silver has some quirks that others are quick to point out. He grew up in Briar Valley, after all. His "human skills" leave much to be desired. Still, Lilia instilled a sense of justice in Silver, and the knowledge that you should not say nasty things about others if they are your friends.

Silver sighed. This was why he decided to keep his thoughts on today's PE incident to himself. It would be better for everyone that way. But his emotions, the ones he tried to ignore, made things harder for him sometimes.

[Name] is being a bit daft, though. Why did they get involved?

As Sebek yelled at Grim, the cat jumped into his human half's arms and caused Sebek to, as he was trying to grab Grim, get much too close to the Prefect (for safety and for Silver to accept).

He sighed again as he took several steps over to the trio and attempted to intimidate Sebek away from [Name].

"Sebek, cease this at once. This is unbecoming," Silver told him, standing just behind the Prefect and staring Sebek down.

"Silver, stay out of this!" Sebek hissed at him, not realizing how close he was to the Prefect, "I need to finish this."

"Malleus-sama would not approve..." Silver continued slowly.

He took a step closer.

"I am doing this for his honor, that cat insulted him!!"

Sebek pushed closer and Silver couldn't mask his irritation. Sebek would not listen to Silver and the light-haired man knew this.

"Even if he did, you're much too close to [Name]," the second-year added.

As each boy moved closer, they had [Name] cornered.

"Are you insinuating that you have some kind of claim over this human?" Sebek asked, nearly scoffing as if insulted by the concept.

"No, I am saying you're too close to them. Be polite."

"Silver, you speak and act so boldly for someone taken in off the streets," Sebek told him, bringing up a longstanding issue between them.

He had to ignore this. It wasn't supposed to be something shared with others, that he was taken in by Lilia, that Lilia was his father.

"This isn't about that. You're being rude."

Silver had never wanted to punch Sebek more than he did at this moment.

Smushed between the two guards, [Name] held Grim close to their chest. They could spell the faint scent of flowers from Silver whereas Sebek smelled like tea. They were able to see now, up close and personally, that Malleus' guards were strong, built young men, not as lean as some of the other students at Night Raven.

A few moments passed as Silver and Sebek attempted to stare each other down, other students beginning to watch the interaction, waiting for a fight to break out. It was a miracle that Vargas did not notice the commotion but he was busy telling some poor student about his great and important very heroic deeds.

"... Grim, I think I am going to die," [Name] whispered to the cat.

Startled, Grim looked up at them with such a sudden motion he jostled their spot between Silver and Sebek slightly.

"Nya?? Don't die, [Name]!!"

But the Prefect could not hear them anymore, they were dead to the world for the foreseeable future. With a bright red face, they looked somewhere between embarrassed and feverish.

"Oh no. [Name], are you okay?"

Silver moved away from Sebek as the green-haired boy did the same. Sebek noticed the state of the Ramshackle Prefect instantly.

"AAH! THE HUMAN NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION!!" Sebek shouted

For a moment, Silver wished that Sebek had a volume button he could (politely) turn down. It would save everyone a lot of grief.

All of this attracted the attention of Vargas who shipped around and sprinted over to them, forgetting his discussion of heroism with that poor, poor unsuspecting student.

"Don't yell," Silver told Sebek as he noticed Vargas speeding in their direction, his voice sounding like a whisper in comparison to Sebek's yells.

"HAH? This is all your fault, Silver!"

"Sebek. I said... Quiet down."

Today would be a long day for everyone...

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts, slowburn.

Word count: +6,5k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

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

Iris winced, hissing softly as the antiseptic stung against her busted lip. Mindy was gentle as she dabbed the cotton against the wound, her brow furrowed in concern.

"This fucking hurts," Iris muttered, unable to mask the discomfort.

"I know it does," Mindy replied, her voice soothing yet firm. "But look at the bright side: that guy probably has a broken nose because of you."

Iris couldn't help but let out a small, reluctant laugh. "That made me feel strangely better."

"As proud as I am of you for punching that asshole, maybe next time you could avoid the whole bleeding thing."

"He deserved it,"

"Totally, but you've got to stop acting like a rabid dog. You can't fight everyone that annoys you" Mindy said, setting the used cotton aside and crossing her arms.

"Yes, I can,"

"Jesus, Iris," Mindy replied, exasperated. "We really need to talk about your anger issues."

After a moment of silence, Iris finally broke it, her voice filled with worry. "Do you think Tara is pissed at me?"

"Oh, definitely," Mindy replied, her tone teasing. "Are you going to talk to her?"

"I'm not apologizing for punching him," Iris declared, crossing her arms.

"You definitely shouldn't," Mindy said, nodding vigorously. "That bitch deserved it! But maybe you two could talk about what happened before?".

"Before?" Iris's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah! I'm pretty sure she's more upset that you left her dancing alone than about you fighting that guy," Mindy explained, a smirk creeping onto her face. "Knowing Tara, she probably thought it was hot,".

"What?" Iris exclaimed, her mouth agape.

"Not you acting surprised". Mindy snorted. "Are you having a stroke right now, Ris?"

"I'm just... confused," Iris admitted, shaking her head as if that might clear her thoughts.

"Want me to clarify the situation?" Mindy offered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'm talking about when you two were dancing, definitely not thinking about sleeping with each other!"

"What? We weren't looking at each other like we wanted to do that. Don't be stupid!" Iris shot back, but she couldn't help the flush creeping up her cheeks.

"Then stop eye fucking each other for one second."

"What the fuck? That's ridiculous. We don't do that."

"So you never thought about it?" Mindy pressed, her eyebrows raised in challenge.

"No," Iris replied defiantly, but her tone wavered slightly.

"Oh, come on! You fucking liar, Fifteen-year-old you has a lot of things to say right now,".

"Shut up, Mindy, you're really pissing me off," Iris snapped, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

"Can't handle the truth?" Mindy teased, winking.

"We are friends," Iris insisted, her voice firm.

"Are you though?" Mindy countered, leaning closer. "I'm your friend, and you definitely don't look at me like that. Thank God, by the way!" She rolled her eyes dramatically.

Iris opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Sam in the doorway. She paused, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion as she took in the scene: Iris with a look of disbelief and Mindy with her signature smug smile.

"Mmm, what is going on here?" Sam asked, her head tilting slightly as she crossed her arms.

"I was just telling Iris how she should talk to your sister so they can stop eye fucking each other," Mindy declared, her tone cheeky.

"WHAT THE FUCK"

Mindy just laughed and winked at them as she left the room, her job clearly done.

A moment of awkward silence settled between Iris and Sam before Sam finally spoke up, breaking the tension. "So..."

"Don't listen to Mindy," Iris quickly interjected, trying to wave away the earlier conversation. "She's on crack"

Sam chuckled softly, stepping closer to her friend. "I just wanted to thank you for today. Seriously, what you did for Tara..."

"It's nothing," Iris replied, shrugging it off.

"Yes, it is! Who knows what could have happened to her if you weren't there?"

"I'll always be there,"

"I know." Sam paused, biting her lip nervously. "But do you think she's right about... you know, the things she said?"

"I mean, Sam..." Iris hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I can't blame you for wanting to protect your sister. God knows I'm just as paranoid. But Tara has a point, at least to some extent."

Sam looked down, nodding in agreement. "I just want her to be safe. She means everything to me."

"I know, but you have to let her live, too," Iris replied gently.

"You think she hates me for being so overprotective?" The vulnerability in Sam's voice didn't go unnoticed.

"You're her sister; she loves you. You two just need to talk it out," Iris reassured her, pulling her into a warm hug. Sam hugged back tightly, grateful for Iris's support. When they finally released each other, Sam turned to leave.

"Oh, and you should also talk to her," Sam added, pausing at the door.

"Yeah, I'm aware," Iris said with a sigh.

"Because you know Mindy was right," Sam said playfully, a smirk spreading across her face. "You two are tiring me out with all this will they, won't they."

"WAIT, WHAT?"

Iris felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach as she prepared to talk to Tara.  The tension in the air had been palpable all night, as things had taken a weird turn between them and she knew she had to address it, even if it made her uncomfortable. She tried to block out Mindy and Sam's words; they weren't helping her anxiety at all.

Knowing Tara had likely sobered up but would soon be grappling with a headache, Iris grabbed a bottle of pain relievers from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward Tara's room, her heart racing with each step.

As she reached the door, she knocked lightly, announcing her presence. Tara was reclining on her bed, half-propped up on one elbow, deeply engaged in a conversation with Quinn. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated Tara's features, casting a warm glow on her expression, but Iris could see the fatigue lurking beneath her surface. When they both turned to her at the sound of the knock, Tara's surprise was evident, and Quinn, sensing the shift, quickly rose to her feet.

"I'm gonna go, let you guys... chat," Quinn said, her voice soft as she headed for the door. As she passed Iris, she exchanged a meaningful glance with Tara, a silent communication that Iris couldn't see before the door clicked shut behind her.

"Figured you would need these," Iris said, holding out the bottle of pills and giving it a gentle shake. She stepped into the room, placing the bottle on the small table in front of the bed, feeling the weight of the moment settle around them.

"Thank you," Tara replied, managing a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You can go back to your room. I'm pretty sure the fighting is done for the day."

Iris couldn't resist a playful retort. "That's a shame; I was ready to throw some more punches." She flexed her arms dramatically, trying to lighten the mood, before sitting next to Tara in the bed.

"Oh yeah? Everyone better start fearing for their lives then,"

"What can I say? I'm just too cool,". They exchanged a silly smile, the kind that made the world around them feel a little brighter. For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, both of them trying to find the right words.

"Thank you," Tara finally said, her gaze drifting down to her feet, the weight of her words hanging in the air. "For not letting me go up those stairs."

Iris shifted closer, their shoulders brushing lightly. She could feel the warmth radiating from Tara, and it gave her a sense of comfort. "It's no problem really. I would gladly punch him again if you asked me,"

"Yeah, but then you got hurt," Tara replied, tilting her head to study Iris's face more closely. Her eyes dropped to the small bruise on Iris's lip, a reminder of the confrontation.

"It's okay, I don't mind. It was just my lip," Iris said with a shrug, trying to brush off the concern. But there was something deeper in Tara's gaze that made her heart race, a mix of gratitude and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. The air felt charged, as if the silence between them was waiting for the right moment to spark into something more.

Tara glanced down at her white shirt, noticing the faint, dark stains that marred the fabric now that she had gotten rid of her tie and suit jacket. A hint of panic crept into her voice as she asked, "Is that blood?" It seemed the mess wasn't limited to just the cut on Iris's lip.

Iris's eyes widened for a moment. "No?" she replied, trying to deflect.

"You're not supposed to answer with a question, Ris," Tara teased, a grin tugging at her lips. Iris laughed quietly, and Tara felt a rush of warmth at the sound. There was something magical about being the reason behind Iris's smile, a feeling that made her heart swell.

"I think I was more messed up than I realized," The shorter girl admitted, the weight of her words sinking in.

"What happened? You don't usually drink like this," Iris probed, concern threading through her voice.

Tara looked away, unable to meet Iris's gaze. It felt as if the truth was etched across her face—how she had drowned her worries in drinks, all to forget the sight of Iris leaving with that boy, Damon. The memory stung, and she forced herself to swallow hard. "I just... had a lot of things on my mind,"

"Anything you wanna share?" Iris nudged her gently in the shoulder, her touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down Tara's spine.

"Not yet, if that's okay," Tara replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I respect that," Iris said, her understanding evident. "I have a lot on my mind too." The air between them shifted, Tara felt the walls she'd built around her emotions start to crack, and for the first time, she considered sharing the weight of her feelings with Iris. But for now, she simply held on to the fleeting connection they shared, hoping it would be enough.

"Did you have fun?" Tara asked, her voice light, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it.

"I did, especially when I got to dance with you." Iris locked her gaze onto Tara's, the sincerity in her eyes making Tara's heart skip a beat.

"Yeah? You weren't that bad,"

"Maybe we can do that again sometime. I think I still need some practice." Iris wiggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly, and Tara couldn't help but nudge her playfully, a warm laugh escaping her.

"You didn't dance with Damon?" Tara inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Damon?" Iris laughed, shaking her head. "He would rather die than dance with me. Not even his boyfriend gets him to do it."

"Boyfriend? Oh," Tara said, her surprise evident.

"Yeah, why?" Iris asked, tilting her head slightly, curiosity piqued.

"I thought... maybe you two..." Tara trailed off, her voice softening.

"What? No way! He's just my friend, and besides, he is gay,"

"Sorry, that's embarrassing." Tara instinctively put her hands around her head, trying to shield her blush, but before she could hide, Iris gently grabbed one of her hands, intertwining their fingers in a warm clasp.

Iris looked down at their joined hands, the softness of Tara's skin grounding her. "Besides, even if he were into women, I wouldn't go for him either," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Too picky?" Tara asked, her heart racing with an unexplainable thrill.

"Maybe," Iris replied with a slight shrug. "I guess I'm more into brunettes."

Tara's heart raced so fast she thought she might faint. The implication of Iris's words washed over her like a wave, leaving her breathless. "Good choice," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

After a moment of silence, where the only sound in the room was the rhythm of their breaths, Iris finally spoke up, her voice gentle yet firm. "You know, don't be mad at your sister. She loves you and she's just trying to protect you."

Tara sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know, but still, sometimes it feels like too much." The weight of her words hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotions.

"Maybe," Iris replied, rubbing soothing circles on Tara's hand. "But she's just trying to keep you safe. So am I." The warmth of Iris's touch sent a shiver of comfort through Tara. "Even if we both still live with the fears of the past."

"I'm sorry for that," Tara muttered apologetically "I didn't want to be rude. I know how much better you got after therapy."

"It's okay," Iris assured her, a soft smile breaking through. "And yeah, I did. Perhaps you should consider it too." At the look on Tara's face, Iris snorted softly, the sound lightening the mood. "Geez, I'm not saying now, but maybe in the future if you ever need it."

"Is Iris the psychologist talking or Iris my friend?"

"Both?" They both laughed, the tension easing further. "I didn't want to go either, but now I see how much I've improved."

"I see it too," Tara replied, sincerity in her tone.

"Before, I would've never gone to that party," Iris continued, her gaze turning introspective. "I remember being constantly on edge, like someone or something was out there just waiting to attack me." She paused, taking a breath to steady herself. "Don't get me wrong, sometimes I still feel like that, and I think it had become a part of me. But I've learned to embrace it."

"I never told you this, but I'm really proud of you," Tara said, her voice steady.

Iris took a deep breath. "It also helped me not to be scared of love or feelings anymore," she admitted, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "It's funny; I almost thought I would never be able to feel again."

"And do you?" Tara asked, leaning in slightly. "I mean, feel again? Are you still scared of it?"

"I haven't been scared for a while," Iris said, her eyes reflecting a vulnerability that was hard to ignore. "Not when it's the most beautiful feeling." They locked eyes, unable to look away, and the moment felt charged, almost electric. Tara had to look away, her heart pounding, she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"So should I be worried about the line of people that are probably waiting to date you?" Tara teased, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment.

"I highly doubt anyone would wait," Iris replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"You'd be surprised," Tara shot back, her heart skipping a beat as she realized they were moving closer to each other, the space between them shrinking without conscious thought.

"It's more probable that I should be the one worried about the people waiting to date you," Iris countered, her tone light but her eyes serious.

"Believe me," Tara said, her eyes tracing every movement Iris made, captivated by her "There's nothing to worry about."

"Good, because you can do so much better than date that perv Frankie,"

"You think so?" Tara whispered, her voice barely audible, as if she were afraid to disturb the delicate moment they were sharing.

"Tara..." She breathed out, struggling to find the right words to convey the depth of her feelings. "You're—" She paused, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, making it difficult to articulate just how much Tara meant to her. "Everything."

"Anyone would be lucky to have you," Iris finished, her voice filled with sincerity. The words hung in the air, causing Tara to hitch her breath, her heart racing as if it were trying to escape her chest. She took her time looking at Iris, the warmth radiating between them making the world outside seem irrelevant. Her gaze slowly shifted to Iris's lips, a magnetic pull drawing her in. Gently, Tara brought the hand that wasn't holding Iris's to brush against her wounded lip, her fingertips caressing it with a tenderness that made Iris suppress a whimper. The soft touch sent a jolt of electricity through them, both feeling the intensity of the moment.

"Does it hurt?" Tara asked, her eyes searching Iris's for an answer, only to find Iris staring intently at her lips, mirroring her own longing.

"Not really," Iris breathed out, the words escaping in a whisper that felt charged with meaning.

Their foreheads pressed together, the warmth of their skin mingling as they both tried to steady their breaths, the air thick with anticipation. "I'm not messed up anymore," Tara whispered, her voice soft but firm. "Just to let you know."

"Okay," Iris replied, her heart fluttering in response. They leaned in, their faces inches apart, the world around them fading into nothingness. Just as they were about to bridge the gap between them, the door swung open.

"I forgot... my phone," Quinn said, her voice cutting through the moment. But then she stopped short, taking in the scene before her. The two girls, so close together, made Quinn's eyes widen in surprise. She grimaced in apology, Iris and Tara pulled back quickly, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Shit sorry, um—did I cockblock you?" Quinn questioned, her voice cutting through the charged air, making both girls look at her in surprise.

"What did you just say?" Tara blurted out, her tone a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "God," they both exclaimed simultaneously, the embarrassment radiating off Iris as she pressed her hand against her forehead, while Tara's expression shifted to irritation.

"I cockblocked you" Quinn said, her eyes wide as she assessed the situation.

"No," Iris insisted, shaking her head vigorously, desperate to stop Quinn from digging herself into a deeper hole.

"I cockblocked you, didn't I?" Quinn pressed on, oblivious to Iris's attempts to ease the tension.

"Quinn if you continue saying cock im going to kill myself".

"Immediate no," Tara interjected, her voice firm, but Iris stood there uncomfortably, not really knowing what to do with herself.

"Quinn," Tara sighed, looking down at the floor as she tried to gather her thoughts. "What did... what did you need?" Her brows furrowed in disbelief; she couldn't fathom how her day had taken such a turn.

"My phone," Quinn replied, her tone casual as she bent down to pick it up from Tara's desk.

"Don't ever enter a room like that," Tara told her seriously, her voice low but laced with anger.

"I won't," Quinn promised, shaking her head earnestly, though a hint of sheepishness crept into her expression.

"It was rude," Tara continued, her irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"I'm gonna go," Iris said awkwardly, signaling toward the door as if she were trying to escape the situation. "I think I left my... um, window open." The words tumbled out in a rush, and she turned to leave but paused for a moment. "Talk to your sister, okay? She heard what you said," Iris said, her voice softening just a bit before she slipped out the door.

"Okay," Tara smiled at her, but the moment Iris left, that smile vanished. She turned to Quinn, a steely resolve settling in. "I'm going to kill you."

Quinn's eyes widened in panic. "I'm so sorry, sorry!" she mouthed as she hurried out of the room, leaving Tara alone with her thoughts.

Tara sighed in disbelief, her mind racing with a mix of frustration and lingering hope. As the door clicked shut behind Quinn, she couldn't help but lay back on her bed, a smile creeping onto her face. She let out a giggle, the warmth of the earlier moment with Iris still tingling in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, she was finally on the verge of getting what she had always wanted.

Iris and Tara were sprawled comfortably on the couch, the soft glow of the television casting a warm light across the cozy living room, mingling with the faint hum of conversation from their group of friends nearby. Laughter bubbled up now and then, a lighthearted soundtrack to their evening as everyone made an effort to enjoy themselves, if only for a little while.

Iris leaned back against the cushions, her head tilting slightly as she glanced at Tara, who was curled up beside her with a playful grin. Tara's hair fell in soft waves around her face, and Iris couldn't help but admire how effortlessly beautiful she looked in the low light.

Tara leaned back against the cushions, "What do you want to watch?" she asked.

"Let's just see what's on the news," Iris suggested, reaching for the remote. She clicked through a few channels until the familiar logo of the news station appeared on the screen.

As the reporter started talking, Tara settled down next to Iris, their shoulders brushing together. Iris could feel a familiar warmth spread through her, a reminder of how comforting it was just to be near her. They exchanged a quick smile, but that moment of serenity shattered when the news reporter appeared, his face serious and his voice steady.

"And in other news, a recent investigation has uncovered troubling details related to the events of last year's incident of Woodsboro," the reporter said, his tone grave. Iris's heart felt like it skipped a beat, her stomach twisting as memories flooded back, memories they had tried to put behind.

Tara stiffened beside her, the color draining from her face as she listened intently. "No..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Iris's eyes were glued to the screen, watching as the reporter continued to speak. "I'm standing in front of the apartment building where the mutilated bodies of two students..." They heard the sound of Chad's footsteps thundering after the door, his desperation palpable as he raced to catch up with Sam. Just a few moments later, Sam and Danny walked in, their expressions full of concern as they approached.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, glancing around the room, her eyes wide and searching, with Danny trailing closely behind her, a look of confusion etched on his face.

Quinn, with a sly smile, couldn't help but comment, "Cute boy. Nice," pointing up at Danny, a playful glint in her eye.

But the levity was short-lived as the news turned grim. "Were discovered. Their names have just been released by police. Jason Garvey and Greg Bruckner".

"No," Iris heard Tara whisper in disbelief. In an instinctive gesture, Iris quickly grabbed Tara's hand, squeezing it tightly to offer comfort in the midst of the unfolding chaos.

"Holy shit, that's that chode from our film studies class!" Mindy exclaimed, her finger jabbing at the TV where the breaking news report was streaming. "The ones obsessed with Argento!"

The atmosphere thickened as the report continued. "Also found at the scene were various Ghostface costumes, a character popularized by the Stab movie franchise".

"No way," Iris whispered, her heart racing. Deep down, she had sensed something was off about Jason with his weird interest on Sam going to that party, she didn't want to imagine what was his plan. She could feel Tara's gaze burning into her, a silent acknowledgment that they are both thinking the same thing.

Sam let out a deep sigh. "Pack a bag. We leave in ten," she declared firmly, her voice cutting through the silence in the room.

"Sam! Wait, Sam!" Tara yelled, springing up from her seat to chase after her sister.

"We're getting out of the city," Sam replied, her tone leaving no room for debate.

"I'm not getting stabbed in the name of these fucking movies again!" Iris interjected, standing up with determination. "I'm buying the tickets." The fierce resolve in her eyes made it clear she was serious.

"What?" Danny blurted, confusion and concern mingling on his face.

Chad turned to Danny, gently but insistently pushing him backwards. "Thank you very much, suspicious new guy, but we got it from here," he said, waving him off with a quick flick of his wrist. "Have a good night. Get home safe. Go, go, go." His tone was urgent, he needed to protect their little group.

As Tara sprinted after her older sister, she watched as Sam headed straight for the knife stash, her hands deftly pulling knives from the holder. The glint of steel caught the light, and Tara felt a chill run down her spine as she realized what Sam was preparing for.

"Sam, just wait a minute here—" Tara exclaimed, her voice rising with anxiety. She could already sense where this was heading, and she hated it. "Let's just talk about this!"

"Sam, bring me one!" Iris shouted, her resolve unyielding.

"On it," Sam replied tersely, her focus unwavering.

"No, wait, Iris, not you too!" Tara pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

"No, we are leaving," Sam hissed, storming past Tara with two knives in her hands, she handed one to Iris, who accepted it without a question.

"No, wait, let's talk about this for a second!" Tara tried to reason with Sam, her voice softening as she attempted to pull her sister back from the edge of impulsive decisions. "This attack might not have anything to do with us!" Tara's words hung in the air, a fragile hope that perhaps they could find a different way out of this nightmare.

Sam spun around, the sudden movement stopping Tara in her tracks. "Are you serious?" she demanded, her voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

"It's Halloween! Everybody's wearing masks!" Tara countered, her tone defensive as she tried to make sense of the chaos spiraling around them. "You don't know"

"Tara, this isn't a coincidence!" Sam snapped, exasperation spilling over. "You knew those guys!"

"Barely," Tara shot back, her voice heavy with shadows of doubt and fear.

"You guys looked really friendly," Iris interjected, only adding fuel to the fire.

"Not helping, Iris!" Tara retorted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"There's no way you think that it's just a coincidence that the guy you met and got close to you, was found dead with a stash of Ghostface costumes" Iris pressed, her tone fierce, eyes blazing with intensity.

"Thank you," Sam said, shooting Iris a grateful glance "Chad, Mindy, back me up."

Chad hesitated, glancing at the floor as he searched for the right words. "It's a little bit..."

"Close to home," Mindy finished for him, still perched on the couch with Anika, who looked equally troubled by the unfolding drama.

"See?" Sam exclaimed, her frustration beginning to morph into a desperate plea for understanding.

"It's better to prevent than die in the process," Iris added, her voice firm.

Tara turned to Iris, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Why can't you be on my side for once?"

"I'm always going to be on your side," Iris replied, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. "But not if it ends with you dead."

Tara turned around, her eyes landing on the ginger-haired woman perched on the couch. Quinn sat there, her expression a clear reflection of fear and confusion as she absorbed the tension radiating through the room.

"Quinn, your dad's a cop, right?" Tara asked hurriedly,desperation creeping into her tone.

"Can you call him and find out what's going on?"

She turned around once again to shout at her sister and Iris "Before you two make the unilateral decision to abandon my college education and flee the fucking state!"

Quinn hesitated for a moment before nodding, her brow furrowing with concern. "I'm calling him now," she said carefully, raising her phone to her ear.

"Thank you," Tara replied, her voice softer now, though the underlying anxiety remained.

Just then, the phone rang, and the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. Everyone seemed to freeze, wide-eyed and tense as they exchanged anxious glances, the ominous sound amplifying the dread hanging in the air. Iris reached for Sam's phone, her fingers shaking slightly as she glanced at the caller ID.

"Gale Weathers," Iris read aloud, a sarcastic laugh escaping her lips. "I think the fuck not."

With that, she hung up abruptly, placing the phone back on the table with a decisive clatter. Gale had turned their tragic story from the previous year into a sensationalized tale, cashing in on their traumas, and it got on Iris's nerves. She remembered how Gale had twisted their experiences into a narrative that painted Sam as a "natural killer" and Iris as a "naive lover." None of them held the older woman in high regard at that moment.

"Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"You gotta keep up, my dude," Anika replied, her tone dripping with incredulity as she shook her head at him like he was a dumb child.

"You've never watched the Stab movies?" Iris turned to Ethan, an inquisitive glare piercing through the boy. As he shook his head in denial, she stared at him for a moment longer, watching him struggle to maintain her gaze, his discomfort palpable.

"Sam," Quinn called out, worry etched across her features. "My dad wants to talk to you."

Sam looked up, her expression shifting from frustration to concern as she took the phone from Quinn. "Mr. Bailey, hi"

"Hey, Sam. I was actually just about to call you," he replied, his tone professional yet tinged with urgency.

"Well, my sister thinks I'm probably overreacting," Sam told him, a hint of frustration seeping through.

"No, unfortunately, you're not," he said, the gravity of his words settling heavily in the air.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" Sam questioned, confusion etching lines on her forehead.

"I'm afraid I need you to come down to the station," he said, his voice firm with concern.

"Alright," Sam replied, her mind racing as she processed the sudden shift in the conversation.

Hanging up the phone, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Without saying a word to anyone, she moved towards the door, her pace brisk and determined.

Tara and Iris exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. In an instant, they moved to follow Sam, urgency propelling them forward. "You guys stay here. We'll go with Sam," Tara called out. They didn't wait for a reply; they were already at the door, Sam poised on the threshold, ready to step into the night.

"Tara? No, get back inside. Lock the door," Sam called out, turning to face them, her expression unable to hide her frustration. "Iris, go with her and keep her safe."

"Are you serious? Now you don't want to stick together?" Tara shot back, disbelief lacing her words as she crossed her arms defiantly.

"She's right, Sam. You're insane if you think we're leaving you alone," Iris chimed in, her voice resolute as she stepped closer to Tara.

Sam hesitated, glancing between her sister and Iris, her resolve wavering under the weight of their insistence. "I just—" she began, but the look on their faces told her all she needed to know.

With a reluctant sigh, she finally relented. "Fine. Let's go." Together, they started walking towards the station, each step heavy with unspoken fears.

As The three of them walked down the street, Sam's phone began ringing once again. She instinctively glanced at the screen, and her heart dropped. The sight of the caller ID made her freeze in place, rooted to the pavement.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Iris asked, her voice laced with concern as she noticed the shock written all over Sam's face.

Tara, too, stopped walking, her eyes darting between Sam and the phone, a look of disbelief crossing her features. "What the fuck?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. They all could see the name glaring back at them: "Richie Kirsch."

"I...I never deleted his contact," Sam confessed, her voice shaky. "This is coming from his number."

A chill ran down Iris's spine, her instincts kicking in. "Don't pick that up," she warned, urgency rising in her tone.

"Yeah, just let it ring," Tara echoed, glancing around as if expecting someone to jump out from the shadows.

But Sam, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, ignored their pleas. With a deep breath, she pressed the green button, accepting the call against her better judgment.

"Who is this?" Sam demanded as she gripped the phone tightly.

"Hello, Samantha. Did you miss me?" The voice was unmistakable, distorted by the sinister quality of a voice changer, sending shivers down their spines.

"Oh God, I hate this motherfucker". Iris muttered, burying her face in her hands in frustration. Sam, determined to face this threat head-on, switched the call to speaker mode so Tara and Iris could hear as well.

"I want you to think long and hard about whether you really want to do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead" Sam growled into the phone, her voice low but steady.

"You should be thanking me, Sam. Jason and Greg were gonna kill you, your sister and all of your friends" Ghostface replied, his tone mocking and sinister. Just then, the three girls caught sight of a suspicious figure approaching them from down the street, a hood pulled low over his face, obscuring his features.

Instinctively, Iris stepped in front of Sam and Tara, her body tense as she faced the stranger. The man walked past them, his gait slow and deliberate, yet he didn't make eye contact. Iris's heart raced as she glanced back at her friends, trying to gauge their reactions while keeping her eyes on the hooded figure. The atmosphere grew thick with tension, each of them acutely aware that this was far from over. "I gutted them before they had the chance"

"Thanks dude for murdering people in our name".

"Hello to you too, Iris. I can't wait to formally meet you," Ghostface mocked, his voice dripping with amusement.

"I can't wait to meet you either," Iris retorted, her voice steady despite the quaking fear in her stomach. "So you can personally meet my knife" Her heart raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she spoke.

Sam sensed the tension building and quickly interjected, hoping to redirect the focus. "So what? You're protecting us now?" she questioned. She wanted to pull Iris back from the brink of confrontation, fearing that provoking him further might escalate the situation.

"Not quite," Ghostface replied, his tone icy and calculated. "I'm going to show the whole world who you really are. A liar and a killer. I'm going to punish you". Each word dripped with a chilling certainty, as though he relished the thought of punish them.

"You shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet, asshole" Sam shot back, her anger boiling over.

"Don't be cute. You're gonna pay for what you did. And I'm not gonna stop until I butcher you. You and anyone who gets between us. You and Tara better watch your backs" Ghostface said. "As for you Iris? I'm going to have so much fun watching you beg to end you once I force you to watch the final moments of everyone else".

"You want me dead? Get in line motherfucker"

"You better watch your backs."

"You better watch yours." Sam snapped, her voice laced with venom.

"Tara, behind you!" Iris shouted, her voice slicing through the night air with urgency. The adrenaline surged through her veins as she realized the danger. She had been so consumed by the call that she hadn't noticed Ghostface stealthily approaching.

Before she could even process the situation, a gloved hand clamped around Tara's neck, getting ready to stab her right in the chest. Panic gripped Iris, but there was no time for fear—only action.

"No!" Tara screamed, her eyes wide with horror as she felt the presence of the killer. Iris lunged at Ghostface, her small frame colliding with his. The force of her impact sent them both tumbling into the nearby bushes, leaves and branches scattering in all directions.

"Run!" Sam shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. She grasped Tara's arm, yanking her forward with a desperate urgency. The street stretched out before them, dark and foreboding, but they had no choice. They had to escape.

"In there!" Sam pointed towards a convenience store glowing dimly in the distance, its neon lights flickering like a beacon of hope. The three of them sprinted down the empty street, their hearts pounding in rhythm with their frantic footsteps.

"He's coming!" Iris yelled.

"Help! Somebody!" they cried out, desperation lacing their voices as they dashed for the store. Ghostface was close behind, his presence a looming shadow, ready to strike at any moment.

"Please help us!" Tara shouted once they were inside. They tried to get to the front of the line in order to talk to the owner.

"There's a fucking line here, girls" someone snapped.

"Someone is trying to kill us" Iris yelled defiantly, her voice echoing in the cramped space. "You think I give a fuck?" Just as the words left her mouth, the store door swung open with a jarring creak, revealing Ghostface, who entered with an unsettling calm, his dark figure cutting through the fluorescent lights like a shadow.

"You got a problem here" The guy who snapped at them bravely said as he approached the killer, who in response just tilted his head, the mask obscuring any trace of emotion, before stabbing him in the gut multiple times. Gasps of horror erupted from the other costumers, their panic palpable as they rushed toward the door, desperate to escape the unfolding nightmare. Another guy tried to stop him but that just resulted in him getting stabbed in the neck.

The three girls exchanged horrified glances, their eyes wide as they gasped in shock, instinctively backing away from the scene. The air felt charged with fear as Ghostface began to advance towards them, his movements deliberate and predatory.

"Hey!" The store owner yelled, popping up from behind the counter with a shotgun. He pulled the trigger but it wasn't fast enough as Ghostface dodge it just in time. The man looked appalled as he walked through his store to approach the killer only to find that he disappeared.

"Go out the back!" He shouted at them.

"Thank you!" Tara yelled in response, the three of them not wasting another moment before rushing towards the door.

"Fuck, it's locked," Sam cursed out as she and Iris continued to force the lock in order to open it.

"Keys!" Tara called to the man. "We need your keys!"

The man began searching for the keys and just when he finally found them, Ghostface appeared out of nowhere and used the fact that he was distracted to stab him in the chest. The owner fell into the floor grumbling in pain as he tried to escape the store but it was no use as Ghostface grabbed the shotgun that was on the floor and shoot the man in the head making all the blood splutter into the fridges.

Sam pushed both girls down onto the ground signaling them to keep quiet as they crawled to another aisle.

They could hear Ghostface's footsteps as he fired at the freezer behind them, glass shattering everywhere. He squeezed off a few more shots, but a quick glance told Iris that he was getting closer. Sam seized a can and hurled it to the far end of the store, hoping to divert his attention.

Unfortunately, it didn't buy them much time. They managed to get to another aisle in silence, but then Ghostface turned, locking eyes with Iris for a brief, chilling moment.

Before Ghostface could pull the trigger again, the three girls acted on impulse, shoving the shelves of food onto him with all their strength. Cans and boxes tumbled down, creating a chaotic barrier as they scrambled to escape the scene.

"Run, go!" Sam shouted, her voice laced with panic. The urgency in her tone snapped Iris into action. She grabbed Tara's hand, feeling the tremor in her friend's grip, and urged her forward.

"Tara, we have to move!" Iris cried, noticing how her friend stood frozen, eyes wide with fear. Sam was already darting ahead, glancing back to ensure they were following.

They sprinted toward the door, hearts pounding, Iris let out a sigh of relief when they were finally outside and they could hear Police sirens getting closer to them.The relief didn't last long as once they turned around to look back at the scene, they found the Ghostface mask laying on the ground, which could only mean one thing. He had escaped.

[dullahandyke]

Yknow I initially introduced 'sora busts blackquill out of jail and drags him on an illegal adventure against his will while he tries to both keep up his eeeeevil persona and take care of ? sora because this kid the same age as athena and he doesnt know this world' to keyblade revolutionnaire bcos I think its rlly funny but know what actually it fits. I'm facade of positivity and I'm facade of cruelty, the self-sacrificial suicide brothers.

[rviner]

"Aw, man, what!?" Ines huffs, her voice full of mock despair as she punches the air beside her in a playful defeat. "That sucks. Can I make you like me again?" her grin is wide but teasing, eyes bright as they meet Jakob's. There's something easy between them, the back and forth that slips so naturally into flirtation. She doesn't know why it feels so effortless but she doesn't mind. Not one bit. "I'm surprised knocking your head isn't what you worry about more than your elbows." she quips and flicks a quick gesture up toward his towering height. His hand hovers just above her head and she laughs, rising onto her tiptoes to bump the top of her head against his palm. "See? That's literally my height. I don't know what the problem is."

But then Jakob scratches his neck, his arm flexing in a way that catches her off guard, and her laughter fades, replaced by something quieter. Her gaze darts, tracing the curve of muscle, and she has to remind herself to look back at his face. "Uh…yeah, bullets. That works." her nod is quick and her voice is softer now, distracted, though her grin lingers, a little more shy around the edges. And she can feel it, Jakob's gaze lingering on her that tells her he's thinking the same things she is. Her cheeks flush, and she fights the urge to glance away, even as his quip sends her heart stuttering. "Good, I’ll come and find you." Ines says with a seriousness that feels a little too genuine. It's like they're having two conversations at once, each comment carrying a hint of something else just underneath.

"Of course I wanna see. You seem like you'd be good." she chuckles, her eyes flicking between his. A spark of boldness takes over, and Ines can barely hide her grin. "How do I get you in the right mood?" she has to fight back her laughter and she's just as curious to see if it's Jakob that breaks first. But her composure slips a little more as they reach the ring. Ines watches as he ignites it with a flick of his hand, flames leaping into life. And then his hands find her waist, warm and firm and it sends her breath stumbling. "Okay, let's do it." Ines nods, confident but almost breathless, a hint of nerves that she's certain aren't for the ring of flames she's about to go flying through.

And then, with a quick, easy motion, Jakob lifts her as if she weighs nothing. Ines lets out a surprised squeal, her laughter suddenly giddy as she realizes he's about to toss her right through the flames. The next moment, she's airborne, her body slicing through the air as heat rushes past, a wave of warmth that crackles against her skin. It feels like she's flying and she can't stop laughing as she sails through the flames. And when she lands on the other side, Ines tries to hit the perfect landing, legs bending instinctively for the fall but the laughter bubbling out of her is too strong. Her balance wavers, and she drops to her butt before collapsing onto her back in a flop."That was amazing! What the fuck!" Ines cackles as she just lies there. "You threw me so hard!" she then says, still laughing as she sits up again.

Jakob makes a face, "oof, and to think I was starting to like you, Ines," he teases with a shake of his head before laughing. "sleeve on door handle is rough. Can't decide if it's worse than knocking your elbow at the wrong angle." It's easy to talk to her. It's been five minutes but Jakob swears they've been there for longer as he watches her laugh, eyes bright and mirroring her own. "Okay, that makes you maybe 5'1." He hovers his hand over her head with a grin. "See? You're delusional if you think this is more than that." But her height suits her frame, and he has to focus on talking to her to avoid staring. "I mean...sure, like a nerf gun," he scratches the back of neck, "or like, I dunno, a regular bullet or whatever. They're aerodynamic too."

His gaze matches hers, mischief and interest twining together in his eyes as he nods. "Well, I won't say no." Jakob says with a completely straight face, unashamed and forward at the same time. He's silently grateful she's wearing shorts over the leotard, his thoughts swiftly declining in one direction, rather than staying professional. But it's hard not to think a million thoughts as she trusts him enough to touch the fire. Not even second guessing whether he's telling the truth as she moves her hand through it. Jakob shifts the flame with ease, adjusting around her hand, the heat of the fire caressing her skin like a kiss. He studies the way her small hand looks engulfed in the flame but remaining untouched and he wants to show her a million other things. Half of which aren't related to his act or fire.

Jakob clears his throat as well at the question, lip quirking into a smirk before he nods. "Yeah, easily. Do you wanna see?" He knows exactly how the words sound, but something tells him she might not mind. "I can spray it too. Just have to be in the right mood, you know?" Jakob's smirk grows and he shrugs before smoothing his expression to feign innocence. "I'd be impressed if you could. Honestly, sometimes I'm surprised Felix makes it through," he disparages his brother with a good-natured grin and nods at her.

"You sure?" But he's already moved closer, raising his hands towards the ring before it erupts in flame. "Are you ready?"Jakob asks and only when he gets her confirmation nod does he look down at he. Something unreadable takes over his gaze as his hands find her waist, large hands splayed on either side, and he inches the both of them a few steps back. His eyes never waver from hers as he does it, and he feels something stirring deeper in him the longer his hands are on her waist or her eyes meet his. "I'll count to three and lift you slash launch you," he chuckles at the thought and begins. "One. Two. Three." Immediately his fingers tighten their grip on her waist and he lifts her with ease, laughing now. "God, you better land on your feet," he warns before effectively lifting her up and launching her over his head and through the enflamed hoop.

[ectonurites]

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR. KEVIN PHILLIPS

[tortoise-teapot]

i'm like a real good writer

[running-in-the-dark]

-

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture.

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.

[trianglegoddess]

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

[taeghi]

casual

you thought you could handle being casual with notorious fratboy!heeseung, but when feelings get involved, you soon realize that 'casual' isn't so simple.

PAIRING : fratboy!heeseung x reader

GENRE : smut ( 5 smut scenes lol), fwb to lovers, enemies? to lovers?? & a little angst?? praise & degradation, power control, face sitting, oral lol. also unprotected sex (pls wear a condom@)

WC : 17.7k

MDNI

YOU LOVE CASUAL SEX.

you've always prided yourself on being the type who keeps things casual. it's not that you're afraid of commitment; rather, you find comfort in the simplicity of fucking and then never seeing the person again. there’s no messy entanglements or feelings. it’s a way to satisfy your desires without the emotional baggage that comes with more serious relationships.

you’d rather be alone, but you still have fun with your friends when you go out. you've never been content with surface-level explanations or shallow interactions. you crave depth, in people and experiences. which you have found to be, truthfully, hard in today’s day and age. 

you’re sensitive to most things, so you try to cover it up– protect yourself– with all the partying, the drinking, the sex. 

and tonight, like every other normal friday night; you’re at a party. 

there’s a familiar thump of music and loud chatter around you that you’ve grown accustomed to. yooyeon and gracie, your closest friends are an inseparable couple, are by your side. they've been together for what feels like forever, the kind of relationship that makes you simultaneously envious and relieved you're not in a relationship.

as you continue to sip your drink, yooyeon leans in with her knowing smile, “so, y/n,” teases, “have you decided when you’re gonna settle down? find yourself a nice guy and stop with all these one night stands?” 

you roll your eyes playfully, used to this conversation. "never," you reply with a grin, "casual hookups forever, remember?"

gracie chuckles, shaking her head fondly. "come on, yn," she chimes in, her voice warm with affection, “you know it’s gonna have to get boring at some point.” 

you shrug nonchalantly, though their words do make you pause for a moment. "maybe someday," you concede, though deep down, you're not so sure. relationships have never been your thing, and the thought of settling down feels suffocating.

"come on, yn," yooyeon nudges you gently, her expression softening, "we love you just the way you are. but don't close yourself off to the possibility, okay?"

you nod, grateful for their understanding. deep down, you know they're right—they always are. but for now, you want to find someone to relieve the ache that’s been in your core all day. 

you turn to gracie, the one who always knows all the drama on your college campus, “who is here that i can hook up with?” 

gracie rolls her eyes and looks around the crowded frat house, “hm,” she thinks outloud, “well jeongin and bella broke up this week…” 

you shake your head, “too soon, i don’t want to be a potential rebound for him.” 

yooyeon scoffs and continues to drink, listening to your guys’ conversation. 

“how about,” gracie, “mark? he’s real chatty though.”

you groan, “then no.”

gracie goes on a small list of people that she sees around, but none of them suffice. none of them are your type or seem to be able to satisfy you. you tell your friends that you’re going to go get another drink– you’ll need one. 

the kitchen table has a handful of drinks to choose from. there’s punch and beer and vodka, half of it has been spilt all over said table. 

“the punch is good,” a voice suddenly says from beside you. 

when you turn, you instantly recognize him– he’s one of the frat boys that lives in this house, maybe the most popular one of them all. 

lee heeseung stands beside you with an air of confidence that is probably more on the cocky side. his posture is relaxed yet demeaning. his hair is tousled and his clothes give off a carefree attitude. 

pretty much everyone at your college knows lee heeseung from his parties, his stories, the multiple girls he has slept with. you’ve heard enough stories about him to write an entire book, yet his entire persona is more annoying than appealing to you. his entire act is one that you’ve seen played out too many times before. 

“good to know,” you say and grab a beer instead. 

heeseung raises his eyebrow at your choice, “i’m heeseung.” his voice is smooth and cuts through the noise of the party. 

you take a sip of your beer, “i know who you are.” you reply bounty, not bothering to hide your disinterest.

intrigued by your coldness, “right,” he acknowledges with a smirk, “and i know who you are.” 

“congrats," you say dryly, with a fake excitement to your tone. 

heeseung suddenly leans in closer to you and whispers into your ear, his voice low, "you're the girl who only does casual sex, right?"

you're taken aback by his boldness, but there's a flicker of curiosity in your eyes. "i might be,"

heeseung smirks down at you at your answer. you let yourself think that maybe the notorious fuckboy is pretty handsome. his complexion seemingly glows, his eyes are full of a flirty playfulness, and his smile is charming enough. 

“well, do you wanna have casual sex with me?” 

if it wasn’t lee heeseung standing in front of you, you would be surprised. 

instead, you let out a groan, your face contorts in disgust, “god no.” 

heeseung tilts his head, “why not? i thought you were into that.” 

“because you’re like a walking std.” 

instead of getting offended like you had hoped, heeseung bursts out laughing in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes squinting. 

"damn, straight to the point," he manages between chuckles, clearly amused by your blunt response. 

you roll your eyes, trying not to let his laughter get under your skin. "just being honest," you retort, though there's a hint of begrudging amusement in your tone. 

“i’ll see you around, y/n.” 

you turn on your heel, your back already faced him when you reply, “no, you won’t.” 

you walk back to gracie and yooyeon, who greet you with curious expressions. "what took you so long?" gracie asks, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

you sigh, shaking your head with a hint of annoyance. "lee heeseung just asked me for casual sex," you reveal, your voice tinged with disdain.

yooyeon's face scrunches up in disgust, mirroring your sentiment. "ugh, gross,”

gracie nods in agreement, her expression reflecting your collective disappointment. "every girl he gets with is so desperate," she comments, her voice laced with frustration.

"and heeseung is just... ugh," you add, unable to hide your distaste. gracie giggles mischievously. "and hot," she adds playfully.

yooyeon and you groan simultaneously, sharing an exasperated look. you push thoughts of heeseung aside, deciding to focus on enjoying the party with your friends instead. because the thought of hooking up with lee heeseung and becoming another one of his girls makes you want to throw up more than this beer you’re drinking. 

later, when the party winds down and you’ve danced and drank and socialized as much as you could, you look around and realize that yooyeon and gracie are nowhere to be seen. when you glance at your phone you notice gracie texted you half an hour ago.

gracie : [yooyeon is throwing up so i’m taking her home, sorry]

you groan, great, they were your ride home. 

and now you're stranded at this frat house. 

you head out to the porch, contemplating whether you should walk or call an uber. 

sitting on the porch, the night air cools your frustration slightly, but you're still annoyed at the situation. just as you're about to say fuck it and call an uber, the front door swings open behind you. 

“well, if it isn’t y/n sitting all alone on my porch,” a voice says that makes you turn your head to unfortunately recognize lee heeseung. 

you roll your eyes, not in the mood for his games. "what do you want, heeseung?"

heeseung chuckles, unbothered by your tone. "just wondering why the girl who is known for loving one night stands is sitting here alone.” 

"don't you have anything better to do?" you retort, crossing your arms defensively.

he leans against the railing, looking down at you sitting on the stairs. “like what? catching an std?” 

you scoff, “yeah, exactly that actually.” 

heeseung laughs, a low, genuine sound. "come on, yn. don't be so cold. why don't you come back inside? there’s still some people inside."

“no thanks, i’m calling an uber.” you shiver as you finish your sentence, the night air circling harshly against your bare arms and legs. 

heeseung notices and his expression softens slightly. "how about i get you a sweater before you leave?"

"no," you reply quickly, but your body betrays you with another shiver.

"come on," heeseung insists, his voice surprisingly gentle. "it'll take two seconds, and you seem so cold. how long have you been sitting out here?"

you sigh, ignoring his questions as you stand up, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. "let's get me a sweater," you mutter, conceding to the chill. "and make sure it's a clean one."

heeseung laughs, a warm sound that oddly makes you feel less irritated. "i promise," he says, leading the way back inside. there’s a few people left in the living room as you walk past it. you don’t miss the way they stare at you following heeseung. you recognize the few boys as other owners of the house– heeseung’s frat brothers. and you’re sure the girl they’re with are their hookups for the night. you feel like throwing up when you realize you look like one of them as you follow heeseung into his room. 

heeseung opens the door on the furthest left and gestures for you to enter first. 

lee heeseung’s room is exactly what you imagined it; messy, with clothes strewn everywhere and empty whiteclaws piled high on his desk that is definitely ruining the textbooks underneath them. you raise an eyebrow but heeseung just grins sheepishly. 

“what? i like the lived-in look,” he jokes, closing the door behind you. he heads over to his closet and rummages through it for a moment before pulling out a sweater and handing it to you. “here you go. freshly laundered, just for you."

you take the sweater, feeling the warmth and softness between your fingers. "thanks," you say, pulling it over your head. the fabric is warm, and you can't help but feel a bit grateful despite your annoyance with him.

heeseung watches you with a bemused smile. "see? not so bad, right?"

you roll your eyes, not looking at him and instead looking around his room. 

why so tense?” heeseung's voice breaks through your thoughts. you guess it’s hard to pretend lee heeseung doesn’t exist when you’re standing in lee heeseung’s room. 

you finally look at him, leaning casually against his dresser with that annoying smirk on his face. “what do you want, heeseung?”

he laughs softly, taking a step closer. “what do you think? i want to have a good time, and you’re the most interesting girl here tonight.”

“oh, is that so?” you reply, crossing your arms. “and what makes you think i’m interested?”

heeseung raises an eyebrow, “because you’re here, aren’t you? and you’re not exactly running away.”

you hate how smooth he is, how easily the words roll off his tongue. like he’s planned this all along. “maybe i’m just cold and wanted that sweater you promised.”

“maybe,” he agrees, his eyes never leaving yours. “but i think there’s more to it than that. you and i—we’re not the relationship type. we both know it. so why not have some fun?”

you don’t like how close he is to you know. you can feel the back of your bare thighs touching his desk now that he’s stepped so close to you. 

“fun?” you echo, half-amused, half-annoyed. “you mean, be like every other girl you’ve been with? you think i’m just another easy girl?”

“not at all,” heeseung says, shaking his head. “you’re different. you’re not looking for anything serious, and neither am i. it’s perfect. no strings attached.”

“perfect,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. the idea is tempting, as much as you hate to admit it. no strings attached, just two people having a good time. isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? no guy getting obsessed with you after one night. not hurting anyone’s feelings. plus, it would be easier to get laid– you wouldn’t have to rely on gracie to see who’s available. 

“think about it,” heeseung says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he steps even closer. “no pressure, no feelings. just... fun.”

you look up at him, his face now inches from yours. you feel like he’s reading your mind. you really think it’s that simple, heeseung?”

“it can be,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “if we let it.”

you hesitate, trying to think of all the cons to accepting his offer but, “fine,” you finally say, your voice steady. “but if you think you can play games with me like all the other girls, you’re wrong.”

heeseung grins, clearly pleased with your answer. “of course not.” he sticks out his pinky finger so it’s in between your bodies, “no strings attached?” 

you don’t hesitate to interlock your pinky with his at this question, “no strings attached.” 

heeseung’s eyes turn dark at the first feeling of your skin touching, “so, what do you think? should we start now?”

you nod slowly, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. “yeah. let’s start now.”

heeseung’s hands found your hips, pulling you against him as his lips descended to yours. you could feel the hardness of his muscular body and the heat radiating from him. your lips met, and you hate how you thought of how soft his are against yours. you part your lips, letting his slip against yours. 

the kiss was rough and needy and demanding. his lips move early against yours. his tongue traced every corner of your mouth, exploring you for the first time. you kissed him back fervently, your hands staying perched on the corner of the desk behind you. 

he tasted like mint and alcohol, and you hated that you wanted more. 

the kiss deepened as heeseung explored your mouth, sucking on your lower lip before delving inside again. you found the urge to moan into his mouth.

heeseung's hands left your hips, sliding up your body to cup your breasts, kneading and squeezing gently. you arched into him, your desire growing with each touch and kiss. he broke the kiss, trailing hot, wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin, leaving your breath coming in short, quiet gasps.

"you feel so good against me," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine that you hoped he didn’t notice. 

heeseung's hands slid down your body, cupping your ass, lifting you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. you could feel his hardness pressing into your core, making you ache with need. he carried you a few steps to his bed before lowering you onto the soft mattress.

you lay back, your breath coming in quick pants as heeseung loomed over you, his eyes dark with lust. he hovered above you for a moment, before claiming your lips once more, kissing you deeply. his hands begin to explore, mapping your body with eager fingers. heeseung's kisses trailed lower, nipping and sucking at your neck. you have to tell yourself to not moan. 

heeseung pulled back, his eyes glistening as he looked down at you laying in his bed, chest heaving from kissing. he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your skirt and panties, pulling them down your legs slowly, his eyes staying on your now exposed core. 

heeseung kneels between your legs, gripping your thighs so they stay pushed apart, “god you’re so wet.” 

you nod at him, figuring that you were since you’ve wanted to get laid since this morning. you waited all day to come to this part, just to end up with lee heeseung of all people. though, you feel exposed to him. your core is pulsating as you watch him lean in, his pink tongue sneaks out to taste you. 

you instantly gasp at the feeling, biting your lip to contain any other sounds of your own. you didn’t expect his tongue to feel so good– but you tell yourself it’s because you’ve been needy all day and not because heeseung is an apparent god with his mouth. 

“do you like it, y/n?” he asks you, his mouth mumbling into your core. hsi voice is hoarse ashe looks up at you from your legs, “you like my tongue on your sweet pussy?” 

you grip his sheets with your hands, determined to not give the cocky lee heeseung a bigger ego boost. you breathe through the pleasure of his tongue circulating your clit. his tongue puts heavy pressure on your clit as he slowly circles it before dropping his tongue to your aching hole. he moans at the taste of your weeping juices. 

heeseung slides one of his hands up to your clit to rub it as his tongue fucks you. his tongue does fast motions back and forth in your hole. it makes your squirm and cuss mentally as he brings you close to the edge so quickly. 

just as you start thinking you could cum, he stops– completely pulling away from you. 

you sit up on your elbows and look at him between your legs, your eyes furious as you pant, “what the fuck?” 

heeseung only dryly laughs at you, “you want this, don’t you, y/n?” he murmurs, his hot brath fanning against your thighs, “tell me you want me.” 

you bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but your body is betraying you with its needy responses to everything he does, “no.” you whisper defiantly.

heeseung leans in closer to your pussy, just millimeters away, “tell me you want me, or i’ll stop.” he threatens, his hand moving down your thigh, “tell me, and i’ll make you feel so good.” 

you blame your horniness for your decision, “i want you.” your voice is full of desire as your body basically cries out for release. 

then, heeseung buried his face in your core, his tongue swishing back and forth, wanting to pleasure you. a shockwave of pleasure rips through you, and you cry out, your hand flying to cover your mouth. you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to makeout with your core. 

you tried to control your reactions, but your body was betraying you. your one hand stayed on your mouth, preventing any sounds from escaping, while the other hand stayed gripping his sheets. 

heeseung glances up and notices your hand on your mouth, “don’t hide your moans, y/n,” he growled, “let me hear how good i’m making you feel.” 

heeseung slips two of his fingers into your wet hole as you open your mouth to respond with a snarky answer but instead, a loud moan leaves your mouth. the sudden intrusion makes you buck your hips up, wanting him to find your g spot, wanting him– lee heeseung– to make you cum. “oh, fuck,” 

“that’s it, y/n, let me hear you,” he mutters into your core, his fingers starting to thrust in and out of you, “you can’t hide that i’m making you feel good. i can tell by the way your pussy is clenching around me.” 

your breath quickened as he spoke, his words only serving to heighten your pleasure. “i hate you, heeseung.”

he hums in response, sending vibrations through your core, you could feel your knees buckle around his shoulders, “you don’t hate this, though, do you, y/n?” his voice is smug as he continues to lick and nip at your throbbing clit. “you can’t deny how much you’re loving my mouth on your pussy.” 

“oh god,” his words make you squirm, they’re adding to your pleasure. your hands grip tighter onto his sheets. “i’m gonna–” 

“cum for me, y/n,” heeseung demands of you, “let me feel you cum all over my face.” 

his encouragement makes you cum with a strangled cry. your body shakes uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crash through you. heeseung doesn’t stop, licking and sucking at your flesh as you ride out your climax. finally, when he thinks you can’t take anymore, he pulls away, a cocky smirk on his face as his chin is covered in your juices and saliva. you tell yourself the image of him has no affect on you. 

your chest is heaving as you try to catch your breath, “fuck,” you whisper out, your body buzzing. 

“i told you i can make you feel good,” heeseung shrugs nonchalantly. 

“shut up.” 

“gladly,” heeseung says as he hovers over your body again, his lips meeting yours in a frenzy. he lays you back down on his bed, your tongues colliding, tasting each other. the kiss was sloppy and wet and you’re sure that if anyone saw the kiss they would be grossed out– but it feels so good. 

you pull apart, heeseung stands off his bed and starts to undress. you take off your shirt, leaving you completely naked on his bed. 

“shit.” heeseung states as he stares at you, not looking away from you as he takes off his pants. it’s your turn to smirk at him, your hand slides down to your clit, rubbing it, feeling your hand get soaked from how wet and sticky your pussy is already. heeseung’s eyes are bulging out of his head as he takes off his shirt, leaving him naked. 

now that he’s distracted you take a chance to look at him. his body is lean and tan and he has a faint set of muscles that make you drool. he really is good looking, though you’d never tell him that. 

his cock is long and hard and veiny as he points upwards, obvious that he’s turned on by you. 

heeseung reaches over to his bedside table and grabs a condom, ripping open the package with his teeth as he continues to stare at your hand pleasuring yourself. 

“wow, lee heeseung’s a condom guy– i would’ve never thought.” you speak as he slides the condom on his cock easily. 

“yeah, because contrary to what you think, i am not a walking std.” 

before you could speak again, heeseung is back on the bed and gripping your waist to spin you around. your face is in his pillows and stomach on his mattress. 

“you’re such a bad girl, y/n,” heeseung tsks at you, you can feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance, and despite your inner debate of if having sex with lee heeseung was a good idea or not, your body craves him. he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto him, burying himself deep inside your waiting cunt with one rough thrust. “you act like you don’t want this but your walls practically suck me in.” 

you can tell it’s true by the way he stretches and fills you up, the way it’s so hard for him to pull out completely since your walls are so tight around him, wanting him inside you. 

“ahh,” you moan out, your neck feeling limp as he starts to thrust into you slowly. 

“fuck, you feel good,” heeseung groans, not surprised at all, “but you knew that didn’t you? knew that your pussy was made for my cock?” 

you remain silent, not wanting to give his ego any satisfaction. heeseung begins to move faster, now that your walls have adapted to his size. his thrusts are hard, and his balls slap against your clit with each thrust. 

the force of his movements pushed you forward with each impact. the slap of skin against skin filled his bedroom, accompanied by your growing moans as you tried, and failed, to muffle your cries of pleasure.

heeseung leaned forward, his mouth close to your ear again as he whispered dirty words. "you like it rough, don't you, you little slut? you like being taken hard and deep, feeling my cock pounding into your tight cunt."

you found yourself nodding against the pillow, unable to form words as the pleasure overwhelmed you. heeseung's hands slid up your body, gripping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulling it back, making you look at him over your shoulder as he continued to fuck you roughly. "that's right, take it like a good girl,”

you whimpered, your breath coming in short gasps as he held on tight to your hair– the pain mixing with the pleasure. heeseung released your hair, your upper body falling flat the mattress again. his hands moving down to grasp your hips once more, “come on, y/n, I know you're close," he grunted, his own control slipping as he chased his own orgasm. "let go for me, come on my cock."

his filthy words sent you over the edge, and you cried out as your pussy clenched tightly around his invading member, milking him as your juices flowed freely. heeseung groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep one last time, flooding the condom with his hot cum.

spent, the two of you pull away from each other as heeseung pulls out of you. you both lay in his bed, catching your breaths from the strong orgasms. 

“now,” heeseung says, “tell me why us having casual sex is a bad idea?”

for the first time tonight, you feel yourself laugh (probably because of the post-nut haze not because lee heeseung is funny!), and brush your sweaty hair out of your face. 

as heeseung stands up, throws out his condom and throws you his sweater to put back on, you think that maybe this isn’t such a bad situation to be in. 

as long as he sticks to your “no strings attached” agreement, everything should work out fine. 

right?

you hated all your afternoon classes, and so during them, you would be constantly checking your phone or talking with gracie who always sits next to you. she is scrolling through her instagram feed, her phone is angled so you can see it too. the professor’s voice fades into the background. 

suddenly, a post from heeseung pops up on gracie’s screen. she groans softly, rolling her eyes at the way heeseung is posing. “whatever happened when he asked you to have casual sex with him last week?” 

you try to keep your voice nonchalant when you answer, “uh, nothing much– i called him a walking std and walked away.” 

gracie giggles quietly, careful not to draw the attention of your classmates and professor around you. she returns to looking at his instagram account, swiping through all the cringey fuckboy pics, “but he is kinda good looking though, right?”

you shrug, feigning indifference. “eh, i guess.”

you’re already pinching yourself about lying to your best friend. you don’t mean to keep secrets from her, or yooyeon, but you know they wouldn’t want you to be another one of lee heeseung’s girls. the thought of becoming just another notch on his bedpost makes you already sick to your stomach.

before you can dwell on it any longer, your phone vibrates in your lap.

heeseung : [i need ur mouth asap] [3:48]

your heart skips a beat and you jerk your phone away so gracie doesn’t see it. you were not expecting to hear from him right now. 

your thumbs hover over the keypad as you think of an answer. 

heeseung : [answer pls i’m so fucking hard] [3:50]

you sigh as you feel his written words make you tighten your legs together. 

you : [where r u?] [3:51]

heeseung : [2nd floor bathroom] [3:52] heeseung : [the one with the single stall] [3:52]

you : [i’ll be there in 10] [3:53]

you bite your lip as you glance over at gracie beside, her pretty hair wrapped in twists. you hoped she wouldn’t ask too many questions at your departure. you knew that you wouldn’t be able to lie to your friends for long. you just weren’t that type of person.  

“you know what grace?” you whisper to her, “i’m not feeling that great, i’ll see you in the next class.” 

gracie’s face etched into one of concern, “oh?” she subconsciously reaches to her bag, “do you want me to come with you?” 

you put your hand out to stop her as you sling your backpack over your shoulder, “no, no. i’ll be okay i just need a break– i’ll take some meds and see you in an hour with yoo.”

her lips turned into a frown, “okay y/n. if anything happens just text me.” 

after telling her that you would, you briskly leave the classroom as quietly as you could, slowly shutting the heavy door behind you to avoid it slamming. you knew exactly what bathroom heeseung was talking about– you knew it was popular amongst students since it was so private. 

you briefly wondered how many girls heeseung has brought to the private bathroom before. 

but you are forced to push the thought out of your head as you knock on the door of it quietly. only a second later and it opens, heeseung face appearing and as he sees you, a wicked smirk grows on his face. his hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, yanking you into the bathroom so fast you almost fall. you hear him close and lock the door behind you. 

you turn around to look at him, he’s leaning casually against the sink, an annoying smirk on his face as he watches your bewilderment expression turn into annoyance. 

his dark is tousled, and the harsh bathroom lighting makes his jawline and cheekbones more highlighted. he’s wearing a baggy black t-shirt that hangs over his lean frame. his eyes are dark and full of mischief as they lock onto yours. 

“you know i was in class right?” you ask him, arms crossing over your body. 

heeseung scoffs, “so?” 

“so, i can’t just always leave class or something else for you.” 

heeseung feigns a pout, “but i couldn’t stop thinking of what your mouth would feel like around my cock.” you feel the air leave your lungs as he walks closer to you, his hands reaching out to grab your hips, holding you still. “would it feel just as good as your pussy?” 

he leans his head down to press a kiss on your lower jaw, “tight?” another kiss under your ear, “warm?” his lips attached to your neck and suckle on it for only a second, “like heaven?”  

you look up at him as he pulls away, he can see that your eyes are just as full of lust as his own. 

“i guess you’ll just have to see then.” you speak, your voice coming out quieter than you expected. 

heeseung’s smirk widened, "get on your knees, then, and show me what your mouth can do."

your breath hitched as you sank to your knees, your eyes never leaving his. you could see the desire in his gaze, but also satisfaction as he realized he had won this round between you.

you reach out and start to pull down his blue jeans and boxers. his hard cock springs out, red and hot and heavy, and so long. 

“that’s it,” he encouraged you,” his hands tangling in your hair as you leaned forward, your mouth mere inches from his hardening length. "you're so hot when you hate-fuck me.”

you wanted to protest, to tell him that you didn't hate-fuck, that this wasn't about love or emotions—it was purely physical. but his cock was so close now, and you couldn't deny your craving to taste him, to feel him on your tongue.

wrapping your hand around the base, you guided him to your waiting mouth and moaned softly as you tasted him for the first time. heeseung hissed above you, his hips bucking slightly as you swirl your tongue around the head, teasing the sensitive slit.

"fuck," he groaned, his hands tightening in your hair. "take me deeper, baby."

you obliged, relaxing your throat as you took him inch by inch, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked. heeseung's breath quickened, and he began to move his hips in a slow, steady rhythm, fucking your mouth gently.

"that's it, take it all," he encouraged, his voice hoarse. "you try to hate me, but you can't get enough of my cock, can you? you're my little cockslut, right?"

his degrading words and the way you’re literally on your knees for him makes your pussy clamp around nothing. you hummed in response, the vibrations sending shudders through him. you couldn’t deny that you loved the way he dominated you.

heeseung began to thrust a little harder, a little faster, his balls slapping against your chin. "you're so good at this, taking my cock like a pro.”

your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the pleasure you were giving him. somewhere in this encounter, you realized that game you were playing with yourself; you wanted to prove that you were the best he'd ever had. that he would always crave your mouth. that no one else could compare to you. 

“you know, most girls can't handle my cock. they gag and choke, and can only take me in their mouths for so long before they’re pulling away.” he grunts as he speaks, his words sending shivers down your body. 

you pulled back slightly, your eyes look up at him as he traces his cock over your wet lips, “i’m not like most girls, heeseung. i can take it. take all of your big cock.” 

heeseung slaps his cock against your lips when you’re done speaking. a spark enters his eyes as he watches your spit shine all over his cock. 

“i know you can, baby. i’ve heard about your mouth before,” he nods his head at you, his tip teasing your mouth. “heard about how far you can take dick down your throat.” 

his statement made your mind race. he’s heard about your sex life from other guys? you’re shocked that they talked about you like that, and even more shocked that lee heeseung, of all people, has heard the rumors about you. a part of it boosts your ego while the other part is so curious about what else he might have heard about you. 

“what?” heeseung asks, seeing your perplexed expression, “i told you that i’ve heard about you before. i didn’t tell you how though.” slowly, heeseung starts to slide his cock back into your mouth, your lips happily wrapping around it. “didn’t tell you i heard how much of a slut you are for a big cock.” 

despite his degrading words, you couldn’t help but think of it as true. 

he takes his cock out of your mouth again, letting it rest on your face, “it’s true, right? you’ll do anything for a man if his cock is big and hard just for you.” 

“yes,” you answer, your voice weak already. you can feel yourself submitting to heeseung and you hate that you love it. “anything.” 

“is my cock big enough for you, slut?” he asks, slapping his cock on your face. the degrading act gets your face covered with his precum and your saliva. 

“yes, it’s so big.” 

heeseung smirks at you, “then take it whole like a good girl.” 

he allows you to put his cock back into your mouth. you gag as he hits the back of your throat. your eyes water, but you relax your throat and let him in deeper, wanting to prove to him that you can take it. like you aren’t like the other girls. 

heeseung pants above you, his control slipping as pleasure washes over him. 

"fuck, you're really so good.” he groans out, “no one's ever taken me this deep. your mouth feels so fucking tight." 

you moan around his cock in response, his degradation turning into praises makes you wanna whimper. you continue to suck and lick him as he thrusts his cock into your throat. you felt his balls tighten against your chin. 

“you’re such a good girl,” he moans out, his hips thrusting involuntarily, “i might- might cum.” you sucked harder then, hollowing your cheeks around him. “oh fuck!”

you felt his cock twitch, and he abruptly pulled out, his hand wrapped around the base as he stroked himself. but you wanted to feel his hot cum hitting the back of your throat. you whimper out before you take his cock in your hand and put it back into your mouth, swallowing around him again. 

"fuuuck!" heeseung cried out, his fingers tangling in your hair as he lost control. "take it, god please take it. swallow my cum for me, baby.” 

his words sent a thrill through you, and you sucked hard, milking him harder. he let out a strangled curse as his orgasm hit, his hips jerking as he shot his cum down your throat. you swallowed eagerly, reveling in the taste of him. 

heeseung leaned right against the bathroom wall, breathing heavily, his eyes closed as he savored the aftermath of his release. you thought that that would be an image for you to think about later. you sat back on your heels, a sly smile on your lips, your chin glistening. 

"damn,” he panted, opening his eyes to look at you. "that was..."

“the best you ever had?” you smile up at him playfully. 

“i’d say close to it.” 

you smile is replaced by an annoyed look and you immediately stand up and bend over the sink, washing your hands free of saliva, cum and bathroom floor. 

“oh come on, y/n,” heeseung nudges you, smiling at your annoyed expression. you don’t look at him, instead you fix your hair, that he’s messed up, in the mirror. “i was joking! of course it was the best– i got to cum in your throat, remember?” 

you slam the sink taps off and look at him, your expression makes him burst out laughing. so, you turn and unlock the door, stepping out of the cramped bathroom. the air feels lighter but your mind is still spinning. 

“so, does this mean we’re on for later?” he asks, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

you roll your eyes, annoyed. “don’t push your luck, heeseung.”

he chuckles, enjoying your frustration. “you know, you’re kinda cute when you’re annoyed.”

“shut up,” you mutter, turning to leave.

heeseung’s laughter follows you, but then he calls out, “wait, you still have my sweater, by the way.”

you pause, glancing back at him. “oh,” you forgot you even had it, “i can give it to you at the end of the day.”

“okay,” he agrees, his eyes glinting with amusement. “meet me at the parking lot.”

without another word, you walk away, leaving him standing in the bathroom with his jeans still undone at his hips.

at lunch, you, yooyeon, and gracie are sitting in the cafeteria, a lucky find considering how busy it always gets at this time. yooyeon is complaining about her morning class, something about how she hates her professor, she’s waving her fork around for emphasis. 

“i swear, if i have to listen to professor kim drone on about supply and demand one more time, i might just lose it,” she groans, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force. “it’s like he enjoys torturing us.”

gracie laughs, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “well, at least you’re not stuck with professor park, she assigns so much reading, i can barely keep up.”

as they continue to talk about professor, your eyes start to drift and wander around the busy cafeteria. and of course, your eyes can’t help but land on lee heeseung across the room. 

heeseung is wearing the same clothes as earlier, but now they’re fixed and worn right again. he’s leaning against the wall, arm over a girl’s head, as he traps her back against the wall. you can tell they’re flirting by the way the girl is giggling and hitting his chest lightly and of course, he’s wearing that annoying smirk. 

a strange feeling starts to boil up in your chest as you watch them. it feels like anger and hurt, but you know that can’t be right. this is lee heeseung, the notorious fuckboy. you can’t be angry that he’s flirting with another girl, that’s all he ever does! plus, there are no feelings between you and heeseung. you’re just having casual sex. 

you take a deep breath, reminding yourself to be chill, reminding yourself of who you are. you’re the girl who only does casual sex, who doesn’t get attached. this shouldn’t be bothering you. but still, the sight of them together leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“are you feeling better, yn?” gracie asks you, “you still don’t look so good.”

you turn your head back to look at your friends. concerned etched on their face. your bitter expression must have been obvious on your face. 

“i’m alright, guys. don’t worry,” you smile at your loving friends. 

yooyeon’s eyes narrow as she glances at you, always so damn observant. “why were you looking at lee heeseung?”

your heart drops. gracie’s head snaps up, curiosity written all over her face. “what? you were looking at lee heeseung?”

you shift uncomfortably, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “what? no,” you say, too quickly.

yooyeon isn’t buying it. “are you sure? because as soon as you looked over in that direction your smile dropped.”

you sigh, knowing you’ve been caught. lying to your friends has never worked; they’re too good to you. “fine, okay, i was looking at him.”

gracie’s eyes widen. “what? why?”

you take a deep breath and come clean, “i might’ve hooked up with him last weekend.”

both of your friends jump in their seats, shocked. “why? what the hell?” gracie exclaims. 

“you know how he treats women! you literally make fun of him and the girls that hook up with him all the time!” yooyeon exasperates. 

you bury your face in your hands. “i know, i know. it’s part of the reason why i didn’t want to tell you guys.”

gracie’s eyes softens. “you didn’t want to tell us?”

you look up, seeing their concerned faces. “well, i didn’t want you to judge me and call me a hypocrite because i’m already doing that myself.”

yooyeon reaches over, grabbing your hand. “we would never do that, y/n. we were just shocked.”

gracie nods, her expression serious. “yeah, as long as you’re being safe and having fun, we don’t care. we love you.”

“i love you too, guys.” 

yooyeon grins mischievously. “okay, but tell us more about you and lee heeseung.”

you sigh and look over to where he was last standing and realize that him and the girl have left. you briefly wonder if he’s taken her to the bathroom where you sucked him only an hour ago. 

“uh, we hooked up at the party after you guys left,” 

“is his dick really as big as they say?” gracie chimes in her, eyes twinkling. 

yooyeon elbows her, “why do you look so excited to hear about lee heeseung’s dick size?”

“sorry, sorry,” gracie apologizes and kisses yooyeon on the cheek. “but y/n, was it?” 

“yeah, it’s pretty big.” 

“oh my god,” gracie can’t help but giggle out, yooyeon has to elbow her again to get her to stop. 

yooyeon turns to look at you, resting her elbow on the table, “and have you seen him since?”

“uhh, yeah.” 

“when?” yooyeon tilts her head, interested. 

“um, an hour ago?” 

“what?!” gracie jolts, shocked from your confession. “is that why you left class early?” 

you smile sheepishly at your friends in response. gracie covers her mouth as yooyeon rolls her eyes. 

“it’s just casual between us, though. we’ve made an agreement of no strings or feelings attached!” 

gracie and yooyeon share a look before yooyeon asks, “so when are you seeing him again?” 

you think about it for a second before you see his sweater peeking out of your backpack, “after our next class- i have to give him back his sweater.” 

“ouuu,” gracie moves her eyebrows up and down, “you wore his sweater?” 

“oh my god stop!” you laugh at her, “it’s casual! nothing serious— i was cold and he let me borrow his sweater!” 

yooyeon and gracie share a look again that makes you roll your eyes at them. 

you check the time on your phone, “we should get going, class starts in ten minutes.” 

the three of you start packing up your bags and lunches and the two follow you out of the cafeteria. 

“i can’t believe we’re friends with one of lee heeseung’s girls,” gracie giggles out playfully.

“oh my god, grace,” you groan out, “i am not! it’s chill and casual, i’m not gonna turn into one of his stalker fan girls.” 

“you’re one of his girls, y/n, and that’s alright!” 

“no, i’m not.” 

“yes.”

“no.” 

“yes!” 

you groan inwardly. the very thought makes your stomach churn. you would never end up in the same category as all those girls you make fun of. you shuffle ahead, not meeting their eyes, as yooyeon and gracie follow behind, giggling at your obvious annoyance. you know their laughter is a gentle tease, but it still doesn’t fix the frustration you’re feeling towards yourself and lee heeseung. 

did he have to be so hot?

after class, you head to the back parking lot where heeseung told you to meet him. you say goodbye to your two friends as they drive home together without you. you told them that you’ll just walk home after meeting with heeseung. 

you wait outside the college for longer than you expected. almost everyone in the school has left at this point and you start to think that heeseung had forgotten your plan to meet up and give him his sweater. 

when there was only a few more cars parked in the parking lot you sighed, annoyed and frustrated. you figured he had left if he hadn’t showed up by now. you felt almost embarrassed to be standing there by yourself for so long. 

you throw your bag over your shoulder again and step off the sidewalk, planning to walk home now since your friends had left earlier. you were already plotting your next words to heeseung for making you wait after school for him for no reason. 

“y/n!” 

you turn at the sound of your name. 

the back door of the school was swung open as heeseung rushed to step outside, his bag thrown over his shoulder as he waved at you. you huff, stopping to wait for him to catch up to you. when he reached you, you could tell he was a bit frazzled. 

“i’m so sorry, i had a surprise test i had to do,” he says, a hint of genuine apology in his voice.

you huff, reaching into your bag and pulling out his sweater, handing it to him. “here.” 

he takes it from you and you feel a sudden drop of water on your hand. both of you glance up at the sky, noticing that the clouds are starting to turn gray and a few more water drops are starting to fall slowly. 

“great,” you mumble to yourself. just your luck. 

“do you have a ride?” heeseung asks, noticing your growing frustration. 

“no, i was hoping to walk home before the rain started.” 

heeseung suddenly feels bad that you had to wait so long for him. “i’ll give you a ride,”

you hesitate at his offer. you eyed him suspiciously, wondering his intentions; did he want to drive you home because he was being nice or did he want to fuck you in his car? you wondered if people doing casual sex with each other drive each other home? 

he sees your hesitation and further explains, “it’s just a drive and it’s raining. come on, get in my car.”

you sigh, weighing your options. you felt the rain start to increase, “fine,” you finally say, giving in. he leads you to his car, a black, shiny, expensive-looking one, and you slide into the passenger seat.

you look around his car. it’s clean and sleek. and you internally debate if this is what you expected from him or not. he gets in the driver's seat and starts the car. he turns on the heat and you instantly realize how cold it was with the rain hitting you, drenching your hair slightly. 

heeseung notices and adjusts the heaters to aim at you, letting you warm up quickly before he’s even pulling out of the parking lot. you tell him your address and give him a few directions on how to get there. hopefully this drive doesn’t take long. 

“do you have any roommates?” heeseung asks you, trying to break the silence. 

“yeah, i’ve got one. she’s cool.” 

“is she one of those girls that you’re always with? the ones you were sitting with in the cafeteria today?” 

you pretend to not be shocked that he noticed you in the cafeteria earlier, “gracie and yooyeon? no, they live together. they’ve been dating for a while now.” 

heeseung hums, “oh, i never realized they were dating.” 

you scoff slightly amused at the possibility that lee heeseung could ever realize something about you or your friends, “hm, yeah. i guess you’re too busy hangin’ with your annoying frat bros.” 

heeseung laughs over the steering wheel. his laughs makes a small smile crack on your face. it’s a pure, hearty laugh that echoes loudly in the car. 

“hey! my frat bros are not that bad!” he mocks your use of words, “actually they’re some of my closest friends. they've helped me a lot.” 

you nod, taking in his words. you wondered how they have helped him before that would make him speak of them so admirably. “which one are you closest to?”

heeseung things for a second, “probably jake. but, he's a year younger than us.” 

it goes silent again besides a few directions you give him to get to your apartment. your mind starts to wonder about seeing him with the girl at the cafeteria earlier. you hate to think about him taking her to the bathroom you were just in with him. or worse, taking her to the backseat of the car you’re currently in. you wonder if there’s going to be more girls like her that you’ll have to see him with during the entire time you’re being casual with him. 

you gulp, taking a breath before you ask him, “will you be hooking up with other girls as we're like, being casual?” 

you keep your eyes out the window once your words are out, watching the rain droplets trail down it. you couldn’t possibly look at him right now.

finally, he speaks, “no, probably not if i have you.” 

you force yourself to keep your head turned to the window now. you cannot let him see the smile that creeps along your lips. his words make your chest and heart settle. the girl in the cafeteria is no longer in the back of your mind. 

“will you?” 

his questions make you turn to look at him, not expecting it. but you keep your face expressionless, keeping your cards close to your chest. “maybe, if they have a bigger cock than you.” 

you don’t expect him to burst out laughing again, his voice interrupting the rain landing on the car. it makes you laugh along with him. his eyes squinting as he looks at you with a large smile. 

you realize that no matter how hard you try to keep heeseung at a foot length with your usual insults, it doesn’t work. he never gets offended or hurt like all the other guys you’ve hooked up with before. it’s something you commend him for. but it also makes you worry for your own heart. 

“good luck trying to find that.” 

you grin at him, looking out the window and pointing to the apartment for him to stop at. he puts the car in park and lets you gather your things as you reach for the handle to leave. 

“thanks for the ride, heeseung.” you tell him with an earnest smile. 

“no problem,” you open the door as he continues, “oh and by the way, it’s your turn.”

“my turn for what?” your face is scrunched up in confusion. 

“your turn to text me when you’re needy.” 

you roll your eyes at his answer, “yeah, whatever.” 

you get out and slam the car door behind you, pretending to not be amused at his words. you walk up the front sidewalk to your apartment, almost to the door when you hear him again. 

“thanks for the blowjob, y/n!” 

you turn around your jaw dropped as he rolled down his window to yell at you, his annoying smirk on his face. you stick up your middle finger at him from the door, you could hear his laughter as he starts to drive away. 

you hope none of your neighbours heard him.

tonight you’re rolling around on your bed, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you contemplate your next move. you lock your phone, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing. after a week without seeing heeseung, you thought he would’ve caved in by now, but he hasn’t.

sighing, you open your phone again, hesitating before typing out the words. finally, you hit send on a simple message.

you : [can i come over?] [8:38]

he responds almost instantly, as if he was waiting.  heeseung : [ yes ] [8:39] heeseung :  [  ;)  ] [8:39]

you smile to yourself, standing up off your bed and grabbing your coat before leaving, heading straight to the frat house that has held too many parties to remember. 

you have only one thing on your mind tonight : make lee heeseung beg for you. 

you knock on the frat house door, and it swings open almost immediately. heeseung stands there, shirtless and in sweatpants. you have to remind yourself to be cool and not completely stare him down like you’re ready to pounce on him. 

he squints at you, a smirk creeping onto his face. “i actually applaud you for waiting so long to text. i thought you would've caved in sooner.”

you scoff, brushing past him into the house. “i thought the same about you.”

“nope,” he replies casually, closing the door. “i told you, it was your turn.”

rolling your eyes, you respond sarcastically, “well, here I am.”

heeseung steps closer, his hands finding your waist as he leans in with that signature smirk. “let’s go to my room.”

you can’t help but feel a mix of annoyance and excitement as you follow him. 

inside his bedroom is the same, messy and chaotic, but his bed is clear and clean. you wonder if he had just made it before you came. 

heeseung comes up behind you now that he’s closed and locked the door. he wraps his arms around your waist, his bare chest flush against your back, “did you miss my cock, baby?” he whispers into your ear. 

you feel yourself melt against him as you nodded, looking over your shoulder to look at him directly. his eyes were darker and his bangs had fallen over his forehead and eyes as he looked at you. he smirked at your answer and then suddenly pushed you onto his bed. 

you lay with your head on his pillow as he gets on his bed and hovers over you. before you can speak his mouth crashes down on yours, his tongue demanding entrance. you moan into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shirt. his hands start roaming your body possessively, keeping you close to him. 

heeseung pulls away from your lips to start pressing kisses down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. you take your chance and flip over his body so now he was under you, his head where yours was previously. 

you’re straddling his waist as he chuckles, “you wanna be on top, baby?” his voice is teasing and almost mocking. 

you glare at him, trailing your hand over his abs and stopping over his hardening cock in his pants. “i’m gonna be on top.” 

he raises an eyebrow, a challenge sparkling in his eyes. "go on, then. show me what you got."

your confidence surges as you lean down, your lips brushing his ear. "take off your clothes," you whisper, nibbling on his earlobe. "i want to see how hard your cock is for me."

heeseung listens and pulls down his pants and boxers. when he’s finally naked, you bite your lips, admiring his muscular chest, flat stomach and the small trail of hair leading below his navel. but it's his hard cock, so red and veiny, that catches your eye. 

you wrap your hand around the base, pumping slowly as you lean down to press a kiss to the tip. "mmm, you taste so good," you purr, licking up a bead of pre-cum.

heeseung's breath hitches as he threads his fingers through your hair, but you gently bat his hands away. "no, no. i'm in charge here, remember?"

"oh, yeah?" he smirks, his eyes glittering with amusement. "let's see how long that lasts.”

you scowl at him, but it only fuels your determination. tightening your grip, you begin to stroke him faster, using both hands to cover his length. his hips bucked involuntarily, and he groans, his eyes fluttering closed. "fuck, that feels good."

"you like that, hee?" you ask, your voice sultry. "you like it when i take control?"

"yeah, baby, I do," he admits, his breath coming in short gasps as your hands continue. you hate that the pet name makes you shiver. you hate how fast he seemingly submits to you. 

a you take the tip of his cock into your mouth, he threads his fingers through your hair, guiding you along his length. you hollow your cheeks, sucking and bobbing your head up and down, relishing the taste of him on your tongue. "oh fuck, baby," he murmurs, his hips jerking involuntarily. "please don’t stop."

you hum in response, the vibrations sending him wild. heeseung tangles one hand in your hair, holding you in place as he begins to thrust slowly, fucking your mouth. you let him take control for a moment, enjoying the way he uses your mouth for his pleasure. you can tell he’s getting close, that he’s starting to feel like he’s the one controlling you right now. 

but then, you grab his hips, pulling him out of your mouth with a loud pop.

heeseung opens his eyes, a questioning look on his face. you respond by grinding your clothed core against his hardness, eliciting a low groan from him. "i want to ride you," you whisper, your voice full with desire.

his face contorts into one of begging,. “please, need to feel your pussy so bad."

you don't need to be told twice. quickly shedding your clothes, you straddle his lap, lining him up with your entrance. slowly, you lower yourself onto his thickness, moaning as he stretches you deliciously. heeseung's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you bounce gently a few times to adjust to his size.

once you've taken all of him, you pause, relishing the feeling of being filled so completely. "fuck, heeseung, you feel so good inside me," you pant, leaning forward to press your breasts against his chest.

"you like that, baby?" he teases, his hands squeezing your ass. "you like my cock buried deep inside your tight pussy?"

you nod, biting your lip as you begin to move, rising and falling on his shaft. his hands slide up your back, tangling in your hair as he pulls you down for a hungry kiss. you moan into his mouth, your hips picking up the pace as you ride him with abandon.

suddenly, you pull away, rising up on your knees to give yourself more leverage. you remember what you were thinking when you came here. you remembered taking control of lee heeseung and proving to him that you can make him feel good. heeseung's eyes widen as he realizes your intent, but he says nothing, watching you with a mixture of arousal and curiosity. you lean forward, wrapping your hand around his neck, and begin to choke him, cutting off his air supply slightly as you ride his cock.

you can't believe how submissive he's being, allowing you to take control like this. it turns you on even more, and you find yourself bouncing faster, your core clenching rhythmically around his shaft. heeseung's eyes roll back slightly, and he moans, his hands tightening on your waist. the sight below you, with his cock hitting deep inside of you with your hand around his throat, makes you bounce harder, making him grunt, “fuck, baby, you're so tight. i'm not gonna last long."

a sense of pride courses through you at hearing him say that, but you have no intention of letting him finish just yet. slowing your movements, you grind your hips in circles, feeling the sensation of his cock rubbing against your sensitive walls. heeseung whimpers, his body thrashing beneath you as he tries to buck his hips up to chase his release.

"please, baby," he begs, his voice hoarse. "i need to cum. let me fuck you, please."

you grin down at him, loving the sight of the so called confident, cocky lee heeseung reduced to begging and submitting. but you're not ready to give up now.. "no," you taunt, bouncing harder on his cock. "who's in control here, heeseung? hmm?"

"you are, baby," he pants, his eyes glazed with lust. "but please, i need to be inside you when I cum."

hearing him say that sends a thrill through your body, and your pussy clenches tightly around him. but your knees are starting to ache from the constant bouncing, and your energy is beginning to falter. your bouncing gets sloppier and slower, his dick still hits your g spot. 

heeseung realizes that you’re getting tired, and takes advantage by quickly flipping you onto your back, his cock staying lodged inside of you when he does. he pins your body to the bed before you can realize. 

your hands fly to his shoulders for support now that he’s hovering over you. “hey!” you pout, at him, “i was riding you!”

heeseung chuckles, his hands gripping your thighs as he begins to thrust deeply into you. "i know you were, baby, and you did an amazing job. but now, let me take over. let me make you cum."

his words make you whimper as he sets a punishing pace, pounding into you relentlessly. you groan as your plan to dominate lee heeseung failed, but the way he’s fucking into you seemingly makes you even forget your plan in the first place

his hips slam against yours, his balls slapping against your sensitive flesh with each deep thrust. "fuck, heeseung," you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "harder!" you submit to him so easily, letting him do whatever he wants to you. it just feels so good. 

heeseung grunts in response, but he fucks into you harder anyways. his cock slides in and out of your drenched pussy, the slick sounds of your sex filling the room. heeseung leans down, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth, tugging and sucking it between his teeth as he continues to pound into you.

you cry out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through your body. "that's it, baby," he encourages, his breath hot against your skin. "cum for me. Let me feel that tight pussy clenching around my cock."

his words are your undoing, and you shatter around him, crying out his name as your body convulses with pleasure. your body felt so spent as he continued to pound into you through your orgasm. 

the feeling of your walls clenching around him, your juices flowing out of you and around his cock, make heeseung cum soon after. he grunts out your name as he spills deep inside of you. his hips stuttering as he fills you with his release. 

collapsing onto your chest, he peppers kisses along your collarbone as he catches his breath. you’re too busy coming down from your orgasm to tell him that that’s too intimate. so instead you revel in the feeling of his weight on top of you. your chests heaving as you catch your breath together. 

heeseung gently pulls out of you and gets up. you watch as he leaves his bedroom, leaving you naked and sweating on his bed. 

he comes back with a damp cloth from the bathroom. his bare back muscles flexing with each step. you can feel a subtle change in his bedroom now. it’s more softer and intimate. and it scares you. 

you know the cloth is to clean up the mess between your legs so you reach your hand out for it, “thanks.” 

but heeseung doesn’t give it to you, “it’s okay, i can do it. you’re tired, y/n. let me take care of it.” 

you open your mouth to protest, to insist that you can do it yourself, but you realize that you are in fact exhausted. your knees ache from being on top. 

heeseung leans down between your legs again. he gently starts to clean you, his touch is feather light. he hums gently to himself as he makes sure every substance is off your legs. 

you’ve never let anyone clean you up after sex before. it’s always you that takes care of things afterward, alone. there’s something vulnerable and exposing letting someone else do this for you. but heeseung’s touch is so tender that you find yourself relaxing into it. you think that maybe it’s okay just once to let someone else take the lead.

once he’s done, he kisses your inner thigh, his lips brushing softly against your sensitive skin, and you suppress a shiver. 

he hands you a soft t-shirt, helping you slide it over your head, his fingers grazing your skin gently. you inhale the fresh scent of the fabric. heeseung pulls on a pair of sweatpants that cling to his lean, muscular frame. 

heeseung lies down beside you, his body warm against yours. its silent in his room and the lights are still on. you realize that you’ve never just laid in bed with a guy before without it leading to sex. 

after a while, you break the silence. “i should go,” you say, starting to sit up.

heeseung sits up too, watching you, “you should stay. it’s late, and your knees hurt.” 

you hesitate, but the truth is, you’re tired, and your knees really do ache from holding your body up. you nod, and lay back down. your heart thumping in your chest. 

“okay,” you whisper. 

heeseung smiles and turns off the lights, plunging the room into a soft darkness. you both lay there in his bed. a meter apart is between both of you. it’s silent and uncomfortable. 

heeseung breaks the silence first. "you okay?"

you nod, even though he probably can't see you in the dark. "yeah, just... not used to this."

"used to what?" he asks, turning slightly to face you.

"this," you gesture vaguely around the room, "staying after."

he chuckles softly. "so, i'm your first?"

you scoff, rolling your eyes. "don't flatter yourself, heeseung."

"i'm serious," he says, and you can hear the genuine curiosity in his voice. "you've never stayed the night with anyone before?"

"no," you admit quietly, "i haven't."

both of you go silent again, thinking. you’re only wearing his t shirt and the thin sheet on his bed isn’t keeping much heat in. your legs shiver against the bed. 

you feel heeseung move beside you, “come here.” 

“what?” 

“come here if you’re cold.” 

you hesitate for a second before scooting closer to him. he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against his chest. it’s warm and so much better for your half naked body. it’s intimate, and you try to keep your breath steady as you breathe in his cologne and fabric softener. 

"better?" he asks, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"yeah," you murmur, "better."

you lay there for a while, in his arms. you try to fall asleep, but it feels strange. and you keep debating if it’s a good strange or a bad strange. heeseung starts tracing lazy circles on your arm, and you find yourself relaxing. 

"you know," he says softly, "you're not as tough as you pretend to be."

"oh, really?" you challenge.

"yeah," he replies, "you're actually kinda sweet."

you snort at his compliment because when have you ever been sweet to lee heeseung? 

you close your eyes again. thinking more about heeseung and everything you know about him and everything he knows about you. the things he might’ve heard about you before you even met. and you think about how sweet he’s actually been to you. 

"heeseung?" you say after a while.

"yeah?"

"thanks for letting me stay."

"anytime," he replies, his voice soft and sincere.

you feel his grip tighten slightly around you, like you might leave. 

but even though there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to run; you don’t. you stay in lee heeseung’s bed with his arms wrapped around you until you both feel your eyelids grow heavy and drift off to sleep for the night. 

as you drift off, you realize that maybe, just maybe, there could be more than just casual hookups between you and lee heeseung. 

when you and heeseung wake up the next day, the sunlight filtering through the blinds, you both groan at the early hour. heeseung stretches, his arm brushing against you as he yawns.

"we gotta get to class," he says, rubbing his eyes.

"yeah," you agree, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.your knees feel better this morning. 

heeseung gets up first, grabbing a t-shirt from his closet and slipping it on. "i can drive you home if you want," he offers casually.

"thanks," you say, standing and smoothing out your clothes. "i'll get changed."

heeseung nods and heads for the door. "i'll wait downstairs.” 

you quickly change into your clothes from yesterday, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions from the night before. once you're dressed, you head down the hall towards the stairs, but stop when you hear your name.

when you and heeseung wake up the next day, the sunlight filtering through the blinds, you both groan at the early hour. heeseung stretches, his arm brushing against you as he yawns.

"we gotta get to class," he says, rubbing his eyes.

"yeah," you agree, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. you feel a slight ache from how you slept, but it's not too bad.

heeseung gets up first, grabbing a t-shirt from his closet and slipping it on. "i can drive you home if you want," he offers casually.

"thanks," you say, standing and smoothing out your clothes. "i'll get changed."

heeseung nods and heads for the door. "i'll wait downstairs. take your time."

you quickly change into your clothes from yesterday, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions from the night before. once you're dressed, you head down the stairs, but stop when you hear your name.

"when did yn leave last night?" a boy's voice asks.

"uh, she didn't," you hear heeseung reply.

there are multiple gasps of confusion. "she slept over?" 

"she's upstairs?"

"yeah, so what?" you hear heeseung say, a bit defensive.

"what's going on between you two?" someone asks.

"nothing-- we're just casual," heeseung responds.

his final response hurts you more than you expect. you don't even know why it stings so much, but it does. you take a deep breath before you walk down the stairs. in the kitchen you can see the group of frat boys who live there all gathered around. they look at you curiously. 

heeseung smiles at you. "ready to go?"

you force a smile and shake your head. "nah, i'm just gonna walk, it's okay."

he starts to argue, but you cut him off. "bye," you say, turning and leaving quickly, closing the front door behind you.

as you walk home, a mix of confusion, hurt, and anger churns inside you. you wonder why he was so nice to you the night before. how he cleaned you up so intimately and made sure you were okay. you weren’t use to such niceness. you were usually the one to kick someone out after sex or leave before you do get kicked out. why did he let you stay if he thinks it’s just casual between you. 

you remind yourself to be chill. there's nothing between you and lee heeseung. 

but the feelings linger, refusing to be ignored.

days later and your professor ended your afternoon class early. you pull out your phone to ask yooyeon and gracie where they are. but you see a text from your mom instead. 

mom : [your dad and i have broken up. please call me when you get the chance] [2:46]

your heart sinks, and you stop in your tracks, trying to hide the sudden wave of sadness and panic that washes over you. you quickly turn into a quiet hall. you don’t want anyone to see you like this. you curse your mom for picking such an awful time to tell you this. 

you keep staring at her text, the words blurring as your eyes fill with tears. you knew they were having problems, knew they were talking about divorce, but you didn't think they'd actually do it. just as the first tear escapes and trails down your face, a voice speaks up, startling you.

“what’s wrong?” 

you turn and see heeseung, his expression full of concern. you quickly wipe at your face, trying to pull yourself together. "everything's fine. see you later," you say, trying to walk away.

he stops you, gently taking your arm. "you're crying. what's wrong? you can tell me."

you sigh, not being able to process the new information yourself yet. you feel like you can’t think or speak straight. you hand him your phone, etting him read the message. his eyes scan the screen, and then he looks at you with understanding and sympathy. "i'm so sorry."

he pulls you into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "it's going to be okay," he murmurs, his voice soothing. he kisses your forehead, and you pull away slightly, shocked.

"what if people see?" you ask, worried about the implications.

heeseung shakes his head. "who cares?" he says, pulling you back into his embrace.

you melt into his touch again, the confusion and hurt still there, but his presence brings a strange sense of comfort. why is he doing this? you can’t help but feel a little more at ease, even aw your mind races with questions and doubts. 

“are your parents divorced?” you ask him as you pull away. 

heeseung shakes his head, “nah, they’re coming to the house this weekend actually.” he pulls out his own phone and looks at the date. 

“oh really?” 

he shrugs, “yeah, they wanna see where i’m living this year and see the other guys.” 

“oh,” 

in the quiet hall it’s silent again and you have so much on your mind you forget to even speak until heeseung does again. 

“want me to drive you home?” 

you smile up at him, “please?”

he wraps his arm around your shoulder and guides you out of the school to his car where he can warm you up again.

heeseung texts you again to come over. something that’s been happening for weeks now. you’re at his house more often than not. and now, you don’t hesitate to go to the frat house you once hated. 

heeseung meets you at the door, a lazy smile on his face as he knows exactly what the both of you are thinking. you step inside and the surroundings are now familiar to you. heeseung shuts the door, his eyes burning with desire as he takes a step towards you. without a word, he pulls you into his arms, and your bodies fit together perfectly, as if they were made to slot together just like this.

"i've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "want you so fucking bad, y/n."

you feel his hands roaming over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you against his growing erection. he's not shy about what he wants, and you love how forward he is. moaning softly, you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your neck as he plants eager kisses along your sensitive skin. his hands are everywhere, slipping under your shirt to touch your bare skin, making you ache for more.

"fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice thick with desire.

you pull back slightly, looking into his dark eyes, sparkling with lust. "then take me to your bedroom, hee."

“please, take her to your bedroom.” a voice says from inside the house. 

you turn and see jake sitting on the couch, his eyes begging as he had to watch and hear the interaction between you and jake. you giggle out at his reaction– jake too– is something you’ve become familiar with during the past few weeks. 

heeseung only smirks and takes your hand, leading you both towards the familiar path to his bedroom. 

as soon as the bedroom door shuts behind you, heeseung is on you again, this time much more desperate. 

he pushes you against the door, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss. he moans into your mouth, his tongue seeking yours, tasting and teasing until you're both breathless.

he breaks the kiss, trailing heated kisses along your jaw, down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. "want to taste you, baby. Want you to sit on my face."

you whimper at his words, feeling your core clench with need. heeseung kneels on the bed, his eyes burning with intensity as he watches you undress. slowly, you peel your shirt over your head, enjoying the way his eyes roam over your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin. You kick off your shoes, wiggling out of your pants, and step out of your underwear. his eyes never leave you.

heeseung licks his lips, a hungry look in his eyes. "so fucking gorgeous, y/n."

you blush, but the heat in your core overrides any embarrassment.

once on the bed, he lets you take control, enjoying the show as you straddle his face, your pussy hovering over his waiting mouth.

"you gonna tease me again, baby?" he asks, his hot breath fanning your core, making you tremble.

you don't answer, instead, you lower yourself onto his mouth, moaning as his tongue swipes against your wet folds. he groans in appreciation, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you closer, his tongue delving into your slit. he's eager, lapping at your juices, sucking on your clit, and making you see stars. you grind your hips, riding his face as he eats you out with enthusiasm.

"oh, fuck, heeseung!" you cry out, feeling your orgasm building already. "feels so good, baby!"

He doesn't hold back, using his tongue to bring you pleasure, licking and sucking until you're a quivering mess. You cry out his name as you climax, your juices flooding his mouth. He laps it all up, humming in satisfaction as he continues to lick you through your orgasm.

As the pleasure subsides, you collapse beside him, panting heavily. Heeseung, however, is not done. He kisses his way up your body, pausing to suck your sensitive nipples into his mouth, making you mewl with pleasure. His hands roam over your body, caressing your curves, molding your body to his.

"i need to be inside of you," he says, his breath hot against your ear.

You feel a rush of heat between your legs at his words. That possessive, needy side of him is what draws you in, what makes you ache for him. You nod slowly, your lips parting to speak, but no words come out.

instead, you turn over and and lean forward. you place your palms on the bed and push yourself up on your knees, exposing yourself to him. 

heeseung's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your round ass and your pussy, glistening with your juices. He reaches out, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he teases your entrance, circling it lightly, making you whine and rock your hips unconsciously.

"you're so wet for me, y/n," he says, his voice like velvet. "are you ready for my cock?"

"please," you whisper, your voice thick with need. “need your cock, hee.” 

with a growl, he grabs your hips and pulls you back, positioning his hard length at your entrance. you both moan as the tip teases your hole, then he slowly starts to push inside. You gasp as you feel yourself stretch around him, inch by incredible inch. heeseung's cock is thick and long, and you feel deliciously full as he bottoms out.

he doesn’t need to pause to let you adjust to his size anymore. you clench around him, your pussy gripping him tightly, and he groans, his head falling back. "fuck, y/n, you feel so tight. So fucking perfect. could stay like this forever."

he pulls your body back onto him, and then he begins to thrust. slow and deep at first, he sets a steady rhythm, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into you. you cry out with each thrust, your body rocking back to meet his. his balls slap against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your core.

he leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot in your ear. "that's it, baby, take it all," he grunts, his voice strained as he picks up the pace. "your tight pussy was made for my cock, wasn't it?"

you moan, your head falling back as he thrusts into you. "fuck yes, heeseung, it was," you pant. "it was made just for you."

His hands squeeze your hips as he slams into you, his hips meeting your ass with a loud, satisfying smack. The force of his thrusts rocks your body forward, and you brace yourself, pushing back against him, meeting his fierce rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room you’ve memorized by now. 

Heeseung's breath is ragged, his grunts of pleasure filling your ear. "You like that, baby? My cock pounding into your tight hole?"

"Yes! Harder, Heeseung! Fuck me harder!" you scream, your body on fire, desperate for release.

He obeys, gripping your hips so tightly you'll have bruises tomorrow. But you don't care, the pain only adds to the pleasure. He slams into you with such force the bed shakes, and you cry out, throwing your head back, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. You clamp down on his cock, milking him, your juices flowing as your body pulses with pleasure.

"Fuck, y/n, you're making me cum," he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he loses control.

You reach underneath yourself, your fingers finding your clit as he continues to thrust. You rub circles around it, riding out your orgasm as you crave for more. "Cum for me, Heeseung," you pant. "Fill me with your cum."

He growls, his body tenses, and then you feel it. His cock pulses and twitches as he releases, his warm cum shooting inside you. He groans your name, his hands grasping your hips tightly as he rides out his peak.

As his thrusts slow, he pulls you back against his chest, his arms wrapping around your body possessively. You can feel his heart pounding against your back, his breath still ragged as he recovers. it feels intimate with him. his cum deep inside of you while his cock softens, and he keeps you so close to him. 

when both of you catch your breaths, heeseung falls into his new routine of cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay before he lays back down in bed beside you. 

the routine is repetitive and comforting. you feel safe and cared for while your with heeseung. it’s something you’ve never felt with anyone before. and you especially never though you would feel this with lee heeseung. 

but over the past few weeks that you’ve been hooking up with him, the more you’ve gotten to know him– the things he likes, hates, some personal things that he’s never told anyone before except for you. 

you feel like heeseung has become someone you can rely on. he’s been there for you more than your friends have been recently. he’s there when you’re sad, frustrated, stressed and happy. you’ve seen more sides of him than you thought he even had during the weeks you’ve been tangled in his sheets with him. 

you’re scared that you’ve started to catch feelings for lee heeseung. 

the thought is almost too much for you. you instinctively stand up from his bed and start to pull on your clothes. heeseung stayed laying in his bed, his arm draped over his head on the pillow. he watched you start to dress silently. 

“you know,” heeseung smirks playfully, “it’s so great you’re not clingy.” 

you froze, looking back at him. "what do you mean?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. you hear a sense of sarcasm in his tone, his eyes hold a look of teasing. 

heeseung shrugged casually. "you're not clingy like other girls. it's refreshing."

the words stung more than you'd care to admit. "yeah, sure," you replied, your tone colder than you intended. the thought of him being with other girls besides you makes you tense up. it reminds you of what you and heeseung really are. you are not in a relationship at all. he can freely hook up with other girls all he wants. he’s not yours. 

heeseung seemed to take your response lightly. "i mean, no drama, no expectations. it's perfect, right?"

something in you snapped. "perfect?" you echoed, you turn to face him, standing in only your panties and t shirt, pants in your hand. "is that all you see this as? some drama-free convenience?"

heeseung frowned, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in tone. he sits up in his bed when he answers, "what's with you? you're overthinking this."

you scoffed, feeling your frustration boil over. "i'm not overthinking anything. i'm just... i don't know, expecting a little more respect maybe?"

heeseung rolled his eyes dismissively which only fueled your anger. "oh, come on. don't be like that. we agreed this was casual, no strings attached."

"yeah, we did," you snapped, grabbing your bag. "but that doesn't mean you get to treat me like i'm some disposable... i don't know, thing!"

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i'm just joking, okay? you're taking it too seriously."

"just joking?" you repeated, your voice rising. "god, you really don't get it, do you? i'm not asking for much, just a little acknowledgment that I'm a person with feelings."

heeseung stands up, his own annoyance beginning to show. "look, if you want to end this, just say so."

you stared at him, hurt and anger mixing into a painful lump in your throat. "maybe I do," you said, heading for the door. "maybe I don't want to be just another convenient hookup for you."

you hear him try to stop you by calling your name, but your hand was on the door knob and pulling it open. 

only then, you freeze in place. standing in the hallway were two older adults, looking at you with curious expressions.

“oh, hello,” the woman said, her eyebrows raising slightly.

you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “um, hi,” you stammered, glancing back at heeseung, who was now standing behind you, only in his boxers and you with your pants in your hand. 

“heeseung?” the man, presumably his father, spoke, looking over your shoulder at his son. “is this your friend?”

before you could say anything, heeseung stepped forward, putting his arm around your shoulders. “yeah, this is yn,” he said smoothly. “mom, dad, this is my girlfriend.”

you blinked in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes. girlfriend?

“nice to meet you,” his mom said, smiling warmly. “we’ll just wait downstairs while you two… get dressed.”

they turned and walked back down the stairs, leaving you standing in the doorway, stunned. you closed the door and whirled around to face heeseung. you were embarrassed, frustrated, angry and confused. 

“what the hell was that?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice down.

heeseung shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “they always want me to have a girlfriend. and you were in my bedroom, so… just play it cool, okay?”

“play it cool?” you echoed, groaning in frustration. “this is so not cool, heeseung.”

he raised his hands defensively. “look, it’s just for now. they won’t stay long. just go with it, please?”

you sighed, rubbing your temples. this was the last thing you needed right now, but you were stuck. “fine,” you muttered. “but you owe me for this.”

once you and heeseung were dressed, you made your way downstairs. his parents were waiting in the living room, and they both stood up when you entered. you could tell they were slightly disgruntled from the mess that was in the frat kitchen. but what could they really expect from five frat boys living together?

“it’s so nice to meet you properly,” his mom said, pulling you into a warm hug. you stiffened slightly, not used to this kind of affection from someone else’s parents. his dad followed suit, giving you a firm handshake.

“how long have you two been dating?” his dad asked, looking between you and heeseung.

“only a few months,” heeseung answered smoothly.

“are you in college as well?” his mom inquired.

you nodded. “yes, i am.”

heeseung glanced at his phone and then at his parents. “actually, yn has to get to class soon anyway.”

“it was lovely meeting you, yn,” his mom said with a warm smile. “we’d love for you to join us at our beach house this summer. heeseung always has a great time there, and we’d be delighted for you to meet the rest of the family.”

you glanced at heeseung, who raised his eyebrows, silently urging you to play along. “yeah, sure,” you said, forcing a smile. “it was so nice meeting you both.”

you made your way to the door, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. as you stepped outside, your thoughts swirled with confusion. what was happening between you and heeseung?

his words and reminders of your no strings attached deal shouldn’t bother you; but they did. and the fact that you were here, meeting his parents and getting wrapped up in his family plans, only made things more complicated.you knew deep down that you wouldn’t be hurt by his words if you weren’t catching feelings for him. you realize that for once, you were the one breaking the no-strings-attached deal.

you were sitting in your dorm room with gracie and yooyeon, the three of you sprawled out on the floor with snacks and textbooks scattered around. you needed to be with your friends after the morning you had meeting heeseung parents. 

“so, how’s heeseung?” yooyeon asks you over her biology textbook. it’s like she could read your mind. 

“he’s uh, good.” you reply, your eyes not leaving your notes. 

“are you still hooking up with him?” gracie tilts her head to look at you. you nod in response hesitantly, because after today you weren’t sure if you were. “what’s wrong? i can tell you’re upset.” 

you sigh and put your papers down, looking at your friends. their faces are etched in concern as they  look at you. they know you so well. 

“well uh, i think i’m catching feelings for heeseung,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands. you find it hard to look at them as you tell them the secret you’ve been hiding from them. 

gracie immediately frowned. “yn, he’s a loser. he doesn’t deserve a great girl like you.”

yooyeon nodded in agreement. “seriously, you can do so much better.”

you groan and cover your face with your hands. you throw your head back so it rests on the backside of the couch. “i know, i know. but, sometimes he can be… sweet. but then today we fought, and he just- i don’t know. he doesn’t have feelings for me and it hurts.” 

just then, your phone rang, interrupting the conversation. gracie’s eyes widened. “is that heeseung, now?”

you looked at the caller id and nodded. “yeah, it’s him.”

“well, don’t answer it,” yooyeon said firmly. “he doesn’t deserve your time.”

you sighed, feeling a pang of guilt as you put the phone down without answering it. the ringtone stopped, leaving an awkward silence in the room.

“i know you have feelings for him,” gracie said gently, “but you deserve someone who feels the same way about you.”

yooyeon added, “you’re worth more than some guy who only wants sex.” 

you forced a smile, trying to push away the lingering disappointment. “thanks, guys. you’re right.”

you sat back and tried to enjoy the night with your friends, but your mind kept drifting back to heeseung. despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than what he was showing you. that maybe in another universe lee heeseung could like you back.

the next night, you lay in bed, you’d skip the entire day of classes. you’d told gracie and yooyeon you were sick, but you knew they saw through the lie. your mind was a tangled mess of thoughts and feelings for heeseung. you couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet he was with you, how he took care of you, listened to you, and comforted you. he made you laugh when you were sad, and that meant more than you ever wanted to admit.

suddenly, your phone buzzed with a new text message. it was from heeseung.

heeseung: [i'm sorry about yesterday] [9:38] heeseung: [but i really need you] [9:38] heeseung: [i'm so hard right now] [9:39] heeseung: [i keep thinking of your pussy] [9:39]

you stared at the message, your heart racing. memories of your conversation with gracie and yooyeon the day before played in your mind. they were right, heeseung was a player, and you knew you shouldn’t be getting so attached. but despite knowing this, your heart ached for him.

after a moment of hesitation, you sighed and typed out a response.

yn: [i’ll be there in 30] [9:42]

as you hit send, you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest, telling yourself it was just casual. but deep down, you knew it was more than that for you. you threw on some clothes, grabbed your bag, and headed out, trying to convince yourself that you were making the right choice.

you show up at heeseung’s house, and he lets you in, leading you up to his room. unlike all the other times, it feels awkward. the usual comfort and ease between you two is missing, replaced by a tension that is seemingly suffocating. 

heeseung closes the door behind you, and you both stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. finally, he breaks the silence.

“i’m sorry about yesterday,” heeseung says, his voice low. “i was just trying to joke because you got up from the bed so fast. i didn’t know how to respond. you were leaving so quick.”

you nod, understanding but still feeling a bit hurt. “i get it. it just... caught me off guard, that’s all.”

he continues, “and thanks for pretending with my parents. i just, always disappoint them, and i didn’t want to this time. i knew they’d love you.”

you smile shyly, feeling a mix of emotions. heeseung steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. his touch is warm, and you find yourself leaning into him despite everything.

“come on, smile for me,” heeseung says softly, trying to lighten the mood. his eyes search yours, and he leans in, and you let him. you let him press his lips against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. a kiss that shouldn’t be done between two people who have a no strings attached agreement. 

the kiss is tender, different from all the others. it feels like he’s pouring all his unspoken words and feelings into it. you melt into his embrace, the awkwardness slowly fading away. for a moment, everything feels right again. 

"i need you," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours as he pulls back slightly.

you lean in and capture his lips in another kiss, pouring all your feeling into it, wanting him to know without a doubt how much he affects you. heeseung's hands roamed your body, caressing your curves with a tenderness that made your heart melt.

as you kisses grew more heated, you realized how badly you wanted him now. you needed to fele him inside of you. you let him push you down onto his bed. neither of you talk as you both rush to get undressed. ripping off your clothes and throwing them onto his floor into one big messy pile. 

without even thinking, you turn onto your knees. you know heeseung loves fucking you from the back by now. he’s told you over and over again how it’s his favourite position. it allowed him to take control and watch his cock slide in and out of your wet pussy. 

heeseung’s hands wrapped around your hips, you could feel him lean down and press a soft kiss onto your back, “can i fuck you in missionary? i wanna see your beautiful face.” his compliment makes your cheeks turn red, but you let him turn you over so your head is in his pillow. 

heeseung positioned himself above you. your legs on either side of his waist as he guided his hard length to your entrance. you gasped as he slowly sank into you, his eyes never leaving yours. the expression on his face was one of pure adoration that made your heart skip. 

heeseung’s hands gripped your thighs, holding onto you as he thrusted into you. “you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before snapping back open to look at you. "i love watching my cock disappear inside that tight pussy."

you moaned at his words, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. but you quickly brought your gaze back to his, wanting to drink in the sight of him losing control. his eyes were dark with desire, his usually cocky smile softened by a look of raw need.

heeseung’s eyes don’t leave you. his hands trail down your stomach, “god you’re so beautiful- so soft.” 

you whine in response, loving how gentle he was being with you. it was different from all the other times you’ve had sex. it was slow, and passionate. 

his fingers reach down where your bodies are meeting and starts to rub slow circles on your clit, making you cry out. 

heeseung leans over your body and presses his lips onto yours. the kiss isn’t sloppy and wet like his usual kisses during sex. it’s full of something that you aren’t sure of. it’s sweet and gentle. 

his cock continues to thrust into you, filling you up. the intimacy between you makes the coil in your stomach start to unwind quicker than ever. it all feels so close and almost, loving. 

“heeseung,” you whimper out against his lips. 

his eyes flew open, locking with yours as you continued to move together in perfect sync. you could see the passion and intensity in his gaze, and you felt yourself falling even deeper.

"cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice hoarse with longing. "let me feel you tighten around me."

your breath hitched as you felt your orgasm building. heeseung quickened his pace slight. your hips starting to move to meet his as you both chased the release that was so close. 

"that's it, baby," he encouraged, his eyes never leaving yours. "cum for me. let go."

with a cry, you surrendered to the pleasure, your body shaking as you fell over the edge. heeseung followed soon after, his eyes rolling back in his head as he filled you with his release. cumming together even felt more intimate this time. 

heeseung pulls out of you and moves to lay beside you. both of you are catching your breaths. it feels overwhelming for you. his touches are gentle as he traces his fingers down your arm. he’s pressing soft, lingering kisses into your shoulder. this doesn’t feel like something casual; it feels like love, like a relationship. a relationship that you suddenly realize you want. but you know heeseung doesn't want the same, and that realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

you feel like you have no other option than to jump out of his bed. to get away from him. you start trying to get dressed quickly, but tears start to fall, blurring your vision. your breaths are hitched as you try to grab your clothes. 

behind you, heeseung sits up, concern etched on his face. 

“what’s wrong?” heeseung asks, but you ignore him, the emotions are too raw and painful. “please, tell me,” he continued to pry, his voice breaking with worry.

you start to head for the door. your heart and head telling you two opposite things. but when you reach the handle, heeseung has already stood up and grabbed your arm. he spins you around so your body is pressed between him and his door. he’s pulling you close to him so you’re forced to look at him through your tears. “did i hurt you, baby? i didn’t mean to if i did, you couldn’t told me to stop, i-”

you dryly laugh, because his concern that he may have physically hurt you makes you fall for him harder. he’s too gentle with you, too sweet. 

“no, you didn’t,” you say, choking on your tears.

“then why are you crying? tell me, baby,” heeseung pleads, his eyes searching yours.

you take a shaky breath, finally letting the words tumble out. “because i want more than this, heeseung. i want a relationship. i want you.” he stays silent as he stares at you, “but i know, we made a no strings attached deal. so i understand that we don’t want the same thing anymore.” 

heeseung’s eyes widen in surprise, and he gently sits you back down on the bed. he wipes your tears away, his touch tender and comforting. part of you wants to melt into his touch, and the other part is screaming at you to leave. 

“yn, i’ve loved you since i met you at that very first party,” he confesses, his voice soft but sure. “i didn’t think you’d ever feel the same about me. i mean, i had heard so many times that you’re only into casual sex, so i didn’t think i’d have a shot.”

you look at him, your heart swelling with relief and joy. “really?”

“really,” he says, smiling. “i was an idiot for not telling you sooner.”

you laugh through your tears, “we were both idiots.” 

heeseung leans in, and you both share a sweet, deep kiss. the first kiss that doesn’t have any hidden intentions. both of your true feelings were out in the open, allowing you to feel them in this kiss. 

heeseung pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “so, does this mean i can call you my girlfriend now?”

you laugh, playfully shoving him. “shut up, heeseung.”

he grins, pulling you into another kiss.

the sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the beach. you, gracie, and yooyeon are lounging on beach chairs outside heeseung’s family beach house. the soft sound of cicadas from the day were quieting out. 

gracie sips her drink and looks over at you with a teasing smile. “why didn’t become casual with heeseung sooner, yn?”

yooyeon nods in agreement. “yeah, we could’ve been spending our summers here all along. this place is amazing.”

you laugh, “because he was the “walking std” remember?” gracie and yooyeon laugh and clink their drinks together before drinking from them. 

as you’re laughing at them for celebrating your relationship,  you feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, and you squeal in surprise as heeseung kisses the side of your neck.

“well i guess you were right,” heeseung says in your ear. 

“about what?” you question him as you look upwards.

“being casual with me wouldn’t work out.” 

everyone bursts into laughter. you lean into heeseung’s embrace as he sits down beside you, feeling his warmth and comfort that have become so familiar to you. 

“yeah, i think we figured that out,” you say, smiling up at him.

heeseung kisses you again, and you close your eyes, savoring the moment. surrounded by your friends and the boy you love, everything feels perfect. 

you love being in a relationship.

you’ve realized the finding someone special, who makes your heart race and brings joy to your life is easier than pushing everyone away. you’ve learnt to find comfort in the depth and connection that comes with a committed relationship. there’s something beautiful about sharing your life, dreams, and fears with someone who truly cares. you no longer want any fleeting encounters with no meaning.

and you’re happy that you’ve found that with lee heeseung (even if he is kind of annoying).

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

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[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I know it's (mostly) just the hangover but jfc

[wyniepooh]

Loving him was never enough

you don’t have what logan needs, but he still takes all that he can.

Cage fighter!logan x reader. Mentions of violence. Porn with a little bit of plot. mdni; 18+

thinking about being logan’s plaything in his cage fighting days.

It’s not uncommon for the fighters to have a beautiful girl around their arms as they enter the ring, and though Logan usually resists against the fan girls who clamour around him in a frenzy, he figures a sweet thing like you could only do him some good.

Not only does it piss the other fighters off, (they hate to see the king of the cage also have a pretty girl like you beside him) turns out, you’re not half bad for company either.

You’re an anxious little thing, brows furrowed and eyes teary before every match. Logan doesn’t bother telling you that he’ll be fine, that he’s going to win guaranteed, that his punch is as hard as metal. Literally.

He hates to admit it, but he finds it endearing, the way you’re so worried for him. through his nonchalant front, he still wipes away your tears with his large hands before every match and reassures you, cooing, “I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

When logan gets in the ring, the fight goes exactly as he expects it to go. The other guy is destroyed before logan even shows his true strength. In a spiteful and humiliating position, the fallen guy comments something like, “I’ll fuck your pretty girlfriend dumb.”

Logan hears, of course, and though the guy is already bleeding and sprawled over the mat on the ground in a pathetic display, and though logan definitely didn’t consider you his girlfriend, he throws the announcer to the side and pounces. Through gritted teeth and a bleeding forehead, he catches your eye, shaking his head lightly before knocking the other guy out.

You wait for him in the small public washroom afterwords, arms crossed and pouting. As Logan approaches the door and sees your stiff pacing around the room, he knows you’re mad. And he knows it won’t stay that way.

“‘was so worried, logan,” you practically run towards him, “why’d you have to go after him like that? he could’ve really hurt you.”

He scoffs and flashes you the fresh wad of cash. “Hurt me? Please.”

He stays still for as long as he can bear while you dab at the wound on his head with your sleeve, silently hoping you wouldn’t notice the red cut slowly healing by itself. When you try to touch his face, to run a finger down his cheek and his stubble, he grabs your wrist harshly to stop you.

You’re confused, confused as to why he allows you to trail along to his every fight and wipes your tears with such a gentle hand, but refuses to let you in. He doesn’t give you much time to think, though, because as soon as you part your lips to speak, he’s picking you up from under your arms and sitting you down on the cold sink counter.

there’s an aggressive desperation behind his kiss, probably produced by the adrenaline of the recent fight and triggered by the soft whine he heard from you when his teeth knocked against yours. His hand reaches down between your legs and drags your panties to the side, and before long, you’re biting his shoulder and mumbling, “‘gonna cum, logan, please, let me cum.”

He does, drawing out your short orgasm with a few more pumps of his fingers and a graze over your clit. When he’s done, you’re practically already numb, head limp on his shoulder as you hear the metal clinking of his belt.

“You want this?” He asks, holding your head up by your chin as he tilts his head and raises his brows. “You want me?”

You nod feverishly, half-lidded eyes flickering as you breathe, “yes, logan. need you.” Your head falls back against the mirror, and he looks down with a grin at the sight in front of him.

he hooks his arms around your knees to bring you closer before you take him to the hilt in one go, burying a mewl into his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist. The first thrust burns, always does, but only he can make you forget the pain in an instant. Soon, your hands are tangled in his hair, his beard is rubbing against your neck, and you’re begging, “please, lo, need it so bad. “ Logan fucks exactly like how he fights, thrusting into you so sharply your ass is sliding back on the metal counter with each movement of his hips.

He’s done this enough times to know what makes you whine and dig your fingernails into his back, but he still demands, every time, “that feel good, baby? you like that?” Of course, you don’t have to answer for him to know that it does, that it does feel good, so incredibly good, and that he’s hitting all the right spots in the body only he knows so well.

You aren’t the only one filling the room with lewd noises. Logan is panting too, the echoes of his each and every grunt reflecting off of every corner in the room and into your ear. It only makes your cheeks flush hotter, only encourages your hips to move more eagerly to match his pace.

It’s always when he’s just about there that Logan pulls back and looks down at where the two of you are connected, slowing down his strokes to slowly watch his bulging cock sink deep into your slopping cunt.

It’s the only opportunity with logan that you get to really look at him, to see the raw expression of euphoria on his face, teeth bared and mouth open. Some strands of previously gelled hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes rolling back with each press of his pelvis. Your eyes trace the sweat on his shoulder, the hair on his chest peaking from behind his white wife-beater, and the vein on his stomach that connects to the one on his dick.

You gaze flickers back at his face, and you extend a hand to guide his head towards you. He tries to turn away, as usual, and you hate that you know he’s holding back; limiting the noises he’s making, the pace he’s taking.

“Just use me, Logan. I know you want to,” you plead against his lips, inhaling a gasp as you press your lips onto his. You expect him to pull away, to push your head to the side and focus on finishing the other task at hand, but this time, he only pulls you closer, one hand around your waist and the other on the back of your head. He doesn’t give you much time to be shocked before he resumes his previous pace, drilling into you with the same vigor, albeit a bit more sloppy than before.

Logan pulls back to catch his breath, and at the same time, you clench tightly around him. A low groan escapes him, a noise so animalistic and fervent that you reach your high right then and there, shrieking as your legs begin to shake.

He’s close too, you can feel it in his breathing, so you let him fuck you beyond your orgasm, even if it’s getting to be too much and you’re losing your thoughts by the second.

“nobody— ah— fucks my girlfriend,” he suddenly growls, lifting you up from under your arms and shoving you against the tiled wall. He squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to look into his hazel gaze as he spits, “n-nobody fucks you like I do.”

He plummets into you deep, leaning his lips in and making you swallow one last groan of his before you feel his warm release fill your insides.

When he’s done, Logan is supporting all your weight, your limp arms splayed around his sweaty back. You whimper at the emptiness as he pulls out, feeling his cum languidly drip down your inner thighs.

You’re too exhausted to realize what he just said, to react to what he just referred to you as, and as the fog of pleasure slowly unclouds Logan’s head, he’s glad he fucked you stupid enough to forget.

-

a/n: anyone else feel like they’re incapable of writing good smut? Hey Google how many other synonyms could there possibly be of the word ‘thrust’?

[kissitbttr]

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

he rolls his eyes each time you confront him about his alcohol consumption and weekend parties. demanded you to stay out of his way because he doesn’t belong to you and vice versa. so he’s free to do whatever he wants

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who goes to classes whenever he pleases, ignoring your advice about taking care of his grades because you want to see him excel in everything. not just football. he refuses to have you mentor him because he doesn’t want to be babied

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who throws or give away every cookie and home cooked meals you make for him for lunch. he hates the little notes you give him, so he crumples the papers and put it in a bin. he hates how you smile each time you see him on hallways or campus park, calling by his nickname ‘kuna!’ it’s so embarrassing. jesus, can you shut the fuck up?!

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who flirts with girls during parties and classes, inviting them over to have sex despite knowing how you feel about him. what the two of you have is a casual thing, he’s not your boyfriend! so why should he gives a shit about you crying when you see him holding a girl’s hand, guiding her upstairs.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who promises that he’ll change as long as you stay the night after a fuck session. he break down your walls by giving you an aftercare and a glass of water. he lets you cuddle into his chest and kisses the top of your head… only to kick you out the next morning because he’s seeing yorozu and he doesn’t want you around.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who pretends like he doesn’t know you exist except when he’s hitting you up late at night. smirking to himself at just how easy it is for you to respond immediately. god, it’s too easy.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who’s expression remains stoic when you pour your heart out to him… telling him how much you want to be his despite everything that he did to you. all because you are certain that he cares about you. but he denies it. telling you to fuck off because he doesn’t want you beyond sex. so either you stay as his fuck buddy or leave.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who throws a party thirty minutes after you left crying from his room. shrugging it off and decides he’s going to fuck different girls that night by the help of his friends. gojo and geto.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who feels like something is wrong not having you by his side. it has been weeks that you left and he hasn’t seen you a lot on campus. discreetly trying to find you through your friends, the classes you’re taking, even stalk through your social medias. only to find you have already blocked him out of your life.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who sees you at the campus park after going missing from his life. you were wearing a smile that he finds so pretty annoying and a look of glow that he has never seen before. you were laughing with your friends and your hand was… wait a minute…

gojo satoru?!

frat!sukuna is an asshole

who marches to gojo after practice and punch him straight into his jaw until he tumbles. yelling at the white haired man for stealing you away when he was supposed to be sukuna’s best friend. how long has its been going on? when did you guys meet? are you two dating already?

gojo doesn’t care. he doesn’t care about being sukuna’s best friend. all he cares about is you. the sweet gorgeous girl who he had his eyes on throughout junior year. even during the times you were hooking up with sukuna… he still has his eyes on you.

and gojo loves you. dear god, he loves you. there is nothing in this world he wouldn’t give.

frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole

who quiets down when gojo admits his feelings about you. because he could treat you better than that pink haired bastard who doesn’t care about you. because gojo notices everything. he notices the food that you cooked, the notes, the nickname, the coddling, the sweet cheery voice when you see sukuna… what kind of man would give that up?

you have so many flowers to receive and gojo is not going to miss out on that chance to hand them to you.

and sukuna releases his grip around gojo’s collar, backing away from the man without another word and out of the locker room. frustrated with himself and curses himself in the head for being this way.

frat!sukuna is an asshole…

…who’s too late to say he actually fucking loves you