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reignpage · 2 months ago

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Frat Boy!Gojo

Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts

Word Count: 6.1k Contents: their first date, cursing, a little angsty, but mostly fluffy, not proofread (barely skimmed this so again, dunno how much sense it makes)

“Before you get any bright ideas, just know I’m sharing my location with at least ten people.”

Whistling, the biggest pain in your ass saunters over to you

The moon is full, a big white orb that would otherwise bring you a lot of peace to look at but right now, only pisses you off for reasons you’d rather not spend too much time pondering. Rarely anyone comes around these parts; it’s at the very edge of the city, a half-hour drive from campus, and surrounded by miles of dull, old suburbia. You’re standing in front of a metal gate, slightly taller than you, with vines wrapping around the pickets. It swings slowly with every gust of wind, creaking before it meets the stone wall with a bang.

Gojo grimaces.

“Seriously, did you have to choose the scariest place in all of Eden? I mean, I respect the commitment to the aesthetic, but this is just crazy,” he grumbles, eyeing the cathedral from its huge marble pillars to the sharp spires piercing the night sky.

You roll your eyes. Trust him to leave the date planning to you just to complain every step of the way. You’re already regretting playing along with whatever games he’s conjured up this time, but at least you’ve got home turf advantage; you know this place like the back of your hand. There won’t be any surprises happening tonight.

Without replying, you walk off, heading straight through the gate.

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to end up as a statistic.”

Shrugging, you say, “If you’re scared, you can go back home.”

When he doesn’t say a thing and follows you, you smile. You win. But that feeling of victory doesn’t last very long because then he starts muttering about the cobwebs and how they’re everywhere, then about the tombstones, how they’re so messy with moss covering the engravings and that ‘the spirits must definitely be like so mad about all that’, and when you don’t respond to any of his musings, he even complains about the eerie music foreshadowing his pending doom, like in Jaws.

There is no music.

“Where are we even going?” He pokes your shoulder, snatching his hand back faster than you can swat at it. “I thought we were going to, I don’t know, have a picnic under the stars and cuddle on top of someone’s grave, like Mary Shelley did.”

“How the fuck do you even know about that?”

Gojo lifts one shoulder. “Must have heard it online or something.”

You roll your eyes again — you have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight, maybe even for the rest of your life if things go the way your parents plan. When you had first found out the village idiot is the president of the most sought-after fraternity of the most prestigious university in the country, you thought maybe no one else had stepped up. But then you found out he’s a Legacy --the Gojos have governed that fraternity since its conception -- and well, the pieces fell into place.

Mischief no doubt sparkling in your eyes, you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are full of suspicion and when they meet yours, he becomes even more doubtful of your intentions. With a grin, you whisper, “We’re going someplace no one will hear you scream.”

“Kinky.”

That didn’t have the desired effect. How annoying. Though you don’t fail to notice how he moves in closer to you, his warmth radiating to your body through your black, fur cloak. You don’t shift away.

Gesturing for him to follow you through a gap in a wooden fence, you squeeze through to avoid splinters, pulling at your dress when a piece of lace catches on a nail. Just as you’re about to offer advice on how to contort his body to get through, he climbs over the fence and lands on his feet without stumbling, all in one quick sweep, like he’s who wanders these hallowed grounds at night and not you.

“What?” He asks when he spots your glare.

Not even those stupid sunglasses are out of place. Very annoying, indeed.

“Come quickly,” you bark, fixing your silk gloves to cover more of your skin as the chill settles in. It’s only six in the evening, and yet there’s no hint of light in the broad expanse above you, just the moon and the stars lighting your way, and occasionally your companion’s phone flashlight when he needs to look at what he’s stepped in.

He laughs. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“Do you make it a habit to talk about your sex life with a girl on a first date?”

“You’re the first, so not a habit. Not yet anyways.”

Screeching to a halt, your hand clutches his elbow to still him. Your jaw is slack and you’re staring, completely disbelieving. “There’s no way this is your first date. You took that girl to the casino.”

Gojo stares off into the distance as he ponders the notion, fingers tapping his chin. Then, he insists, “No, it really is my first date. And anyways, I don’t consider that night a date; she pretty much invited herself along. It was more like I was just taking her to the casino as her escort. Or maybe that does count as a date. If so, then I’ve been on a lot of dates. But none where I’ve actually used the word date. Does that even matter because —“

You wave a hand in front of his face to cut off his rambling; he talks way too much. “So, you’re telling me, I’m the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date? That’s insane, Gojo. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests with a frown.

“You sure acted like you did for months,” you counter.

He insists, “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just acted out but yeah, I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and continue walking. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get on my knees and beg.”

“Don’t tempt me, Gojo.”

He catches up to you and hums a playful tune, his light mood returning; Serious Gojo is gone like he never existed. “Guess that’s what you’re into, huh?”

“You’ll never know,” you snort, pushing a branch away from your face and letting it snap back into his chest, he yelps.

His hand reaches past you, lifting a thicker branch high above the both of you, before leaning close to your ear and whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll see.”

Disregarding the shiver than runs through you, you push on, moving almost on muscle memory alone. Your mind is attempting to distract itself by scanning the area, being careful not to be caught on church grounds after hours, pushing through the woodland to get to the clearing tucked away at the very back, where you go for peace and quiet.

Truthfully, you have no idea why you decided to have this date here, of all places. This place is sacred. Literally but also figuratively — this is the place you always ran to when the world got a little too loud, a little too busy and bright for you. No one else knows about this haven as far as you’re aware and you always thought you’d do anything to keep it that way. And yet, you’re showing it to him. Actually, guiding him to the place.

You should have at least blindfolded him so he couldn’t memorise the way.

Maybe you wanted to spite him by living up to his expectations and being the gothic monster that he thinks you are -- you want to scare him off before he lets his curiosity take him too close to something that might scald him. He needs to be afraid of you.

Or maybe you recognised that shadow in his eyes, the ones that suggests he’s lost as much sleep about this whole farce as you and thought he could do with a little silence.

You both arrive at a thick bush, a massive wall of a shrub towering over even Gojo. Behind you, the cathedral is only a blob, lit up by lanterns, whereas you’re both submerged in darkness; there are no streetlamps here.

“I’m totally going to be murdered here, aren’t I?” He whistles as if to say, ‘it’s been a good life, and I’ll have to just accept my fate’.

“Yeah, I was lying when I said it was all water under the bridge. I’ve actually been colluding with the devil to sacrifice your white ass.”

Gojo laughs.

He laughs a lot, but rarely like this, you note. He chuckles when his friends do something stupid like push him into the fountain, and he snorts when he reads the most recent article on The Bulletin. But you’ve never really seen him throw his head back and clutch his stomach, at least not with anyone but you. He does it when you get caught texting him under the dinner table, when you give him the middle finger from across the Quad, and that one time you bumped into him in the hallway and almost apologised before you realised it was him.

It’s the kind of laugh that’s infectious, and you hoped every time he does it that you’re somehow immune. However, when he looks at you with a brightening sparkle in his eyes, you realise you’re very much not.

You clear your throat again.

“Through here, is a very special place. You must swear you will not desecrate this place, lest the Mother Crone curse you for your treachery,” you announce, wiggling your fingers at him for extra flair.

Placing a hand on his heart, he stomps his foot like a soldier and swears, “I would never. I will take this secret to the grave.”

Satisfied, you grab the loose part of the hedge wall and pull it aside to reveal the little doorway to your secret hideout. He throws you a side glance before he ducks down and enters. You follow behind him, tucking the disguised door behind you.

He doesn’t say a thing as you zoom to the side where you grope for something in the grass, right under part of the hedge. When you feel the smooth, cold plastic, you don’t hesitate to switch it on.

Long wires of fairy lights light up, bulb by bulb, along the top of the hedge and down, like a really wide Christmas tree circling the hidden clearing. You hear him mutter a ‘woah’ under his breath as he scans the area — there’s only one thing here on the flat ground, it’s also lit up fairy lights along the top pole. It’s your most prized possession.

“You have a swing?” He shouts incredulously. Giggling like a child, he makes a run for it, jumping onto one of the two seats where he rocks back and forth on his feet. Then he’s whooping as he swings higher and higher, hair whooshing back and forth as he grins, taking in the cold autumnal air and the growing warmth of the lights. “This is freaking awesome!”

Sitting on the spare seat, you kick your feet gently so you can swing a little. Deep down there was a worry festering within, anxious that he would find this place boring, that he’d scoff at your idea of fun especially on a first date, but looking up at him, still hollering and grinning, you think, that was such a silly thought.

Gojo slows to a mild back and forth momentum and wonders, “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? This place seems pretty private, like your own mancave or something. Do girls have a version of a mancave? ‘Womancave?”

In the corner of your eye, you see him clamber down to sit as you answer his question. “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you weren’t allowed, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me and hide my body in a grave.”

“Neither.” You shrug.

He laughs.

Eventually, you both swing side by side, alternating up and then down. The wind is howling a little, rustling the trees surrounding you and the moon’s obscured by dark cloud. Neither you nor he say anything to break the silence. You were also worried that you’d come to hate his presence in your safe space, finding his tall, lanky presence an irritation, but surprisingly, you don’t mind it.

It’s nice to have company.

Especially when that company is keeping his mouth shut.

“How often do you come here?”

Or not.

With a sigh, you reply, “Like twice a week. I can’t come as often as I’d like because of all the classes and stuff, not to mention all the wedding planning we have to do.”

“Guess you have it worse than me since I don’t even need to be fitted for a suit; they already have my measurements,” he muses.

“For whatever reason, it’s always the women who have to plan these things, even though it’s the men that propose.” You accidentally make eye contact with him. “Or at least, that’s how it usually goes.”

Gojo hums, a little sheepishly, before he changes the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

“We buried my grandmother in the graveyard when I was fifteen. We were close and I took the loss pretty hard. I couldn’t stand all the people pretending they cared so I ran off, got lost and found this clearing. Well, I actually fell through the hedge, but I found it, nonetheless. And this swing was here already. I don’t know how long it’s been here or why it’s here, but it is.”

“That sounds like a fairytale.” He swivels, swinging a long leg over to straddle the seat, facing you as he leans back against the metal chain. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I lost my grandmother too and it was rough.”

You saw that on the news years ago, it was one of those private family events that make the national headlines by complete virtue of the family name. Your parents grieved in public like it was their own loss and you didn’t understand why. Of course, as you got older, you became more and more acquainted with the idea of ‘reputation’ and ‘public image’, but you still feel that same distance to the concept as you did when you were but a child.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you repeat back to him.

He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got my gramps. We’re best buddies.”

“You have a lot of best buds, don’t you?”

Gojo strikes you as the kind of guy who makes friends easily, thought you question the depth of most of those friendships; sincerity is a rare phenomenon in your world.

“No,” he huffs, “I have Suguru, the girl that gave you my number, and gramps. I have lots of close friends, though.”

Considering his words, you realise you don’t have any best friends. Sure, you have friends you hang out with often, people that share your interest, that you can party with, but none you feel as strongly about as he does with those three people. You can hear it in his voice, the conviction, the pride, the confidence. And when you glance at him, you know he doesn’t even realise how defensive he sounds about his people.

How nice it must be to have someone like him as a friend.

“We could be friends, if you’d like,” he offers, and when you look at him with confusion, he adds, “You said it out loud, silly. You think I’m a good person to be friends with. Which, of course I am. I’m like super awesome.”

You burst out laughing. What he said isn’t even funny and he certainly doesn’t mean for it to be, but for some reason it is. So, you laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach. He makes noises of complaints, telling you it’s rude to laugh at people. That makes you laugh harder.

“Gojo, be serious for a second. We can’t be friends, idiot,” you push out between puffs of laughter.

He frowns, lips twitching to fight back a smile at your flushed face. “Why not? We’re getting along fine right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, for now. But we’re going to be married. Or at least, we’re supposed to be. And think of all the complications that brings, it just doesn’t provide the conditions for a healthy friendship, especially considering our beginning. Think of all the people in our circle who had arranged marriages. How many of them get along? Like, really get along. Hell! Think about our parents.”

“Well, we could be different. We don’t have to end up like them. We can break the cycle or something.”

You stop laughing.

Something shifts in the air, like the moon’s reappeared, the wind’s slowed down, and his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s sudden and you almost don’t notice it, almost shrug it off. But there’s a sincerity lingering between you and it demands your attention.

Fixing him a solemn look, perhaps similar to the one he gave you before, you assert, “That sounds an awful like an admission of surrender, Gojo.”

“Maybe it is.”

The speed at which he concedes, the sheer resolution in his eyes and the way he doesn’t falter when he says it all scream at you something you won’t accept. Can’t.

He grips your elbow, his long fingers wrapping around the limb with ease, demanding your attention. The sombre expression on his ghostly face haunts you. It’s like he’s shifted into a different person, into someone years older, a man burdened with great responsibility.

“I’m sorry. About how I started this year off. I regretted everything I said as soon as I said them. I can’t even remember why I said and did those things, but I definitely don’t have a good reason,” he rasped, a desperation lacing his words like he needs you to understand, like he tosses and turns over it. “I know you’re just as much a victim of this as I am, but I was facing a problem I didn’t know to solve, and I lashed out. At you. At someone who didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry.”

You reel back, snatching your arm away. His touch burns the way ice does, and you have to rub warmth back into it, despite the layers between your skin and his. The sincerity in his eyes is alien, revealing far more about the ongoings of reality than you can absorb in one night. Confusingly, your heart is pounding to the beat of a song you’ve never heard before.

This date thing, taking him to your secret haven, giving him the opportunity to see you not as the enemy but rather as a woman was a mistake. It’s all one big mistake. It would have been fine if he had stayed as the Gojo you knew, the boisterous, obnoxious party animal that cares only about immediate gratification. But the man in front of you is not someone you can marry. He isn’t the type of man you can be around and feel absolutely nothing for.

“I’m hungry,” you mutter, standing abruptly.

He looks up at you, something passing in his eyes, almost akin to disappointment or sadness, and you can’t bear to think about what that could mean, so you simply gesture for him to follow you.

In silence, you walk back the way you came, using your phone’s flashlight to navigate through the thick haze of darkness. This was a mistake; you let him in for a second, gave him a glimpse into your life, and you aren’t even sure why. Was it because you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to do whatever it takes to drag the man to the altar or because, despite yourself, you actually wanted to see what going on a date with Gojo means?

Maybe it was both.

Or neither.

You’re losing more and more of yourself these days, doing things you’d never thought you’d do for one reason or another, and you no longer even know what you want. Your pride or your family? A marriage with Gojo or the friendship he’s offering? Is there’s a third option.

“What’d you wanna eat?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his feet as he stares up at a streetlight.

You’ve both made it back onto the main road, the swings a mile away. He didn’t press the topic more, simply walked beside you and pushed branches away like before.

It’s nearing eight in the evening and your stomach growls.

“Who said I’m eating with you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and pokes your shoulder. With a sulky tone, he groans, “Don’t be mean. You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s eat. Simple!”

“Can you cook?”

He beams, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at you over them, bright eyes sparkling with what you can only guess to be mischief. You realise you really should think before you speak.

—

That’s how you find yourself in his frat house kitchen, cloak discarded, hair up and gloves off. His frat members are out, partying, he claims, so the whole house is free. When he suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane, but he only wiggled his brows.

“You scared?” He cocked his head, grinning at you in a way that made you want to punch his teeth in.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you responded, “No, of course not.”

Gojo bent his arms and rocked his head, making clucking noises that echoed in the empty street. Every note pierced your body, mocking and goading. You knew exactly what he was doing, and it was fucking working, the stupid bastard. Without responding to his accusation, you stomped over to his car and gave him a glare. He fetched his car keys and spun them on his finger with a victorious whistle.

“Grate this,” he orders.

His kitchen is huge, which is understandable for the size of the house and how many people live here. Apparently, there’s three more kitchens in the damn place, not that you believe even a quarter of the guys that live here know what a cutting board is. The kitchen is surprisingly clean, however. It’s sparkling clean.

“We have cleaners that comes in every other day,” he chuckles, noticing your looks of complete judgement whilst he boils some pasta. “But we are pretty strict on cleanliness, regardless. And everyone knows, I’m not afraid to crack the whip to keep everyone in line.”

Scoffing, you clarify, “You? Cracking whips? I find that hard to believe.”

He leans against the island you’re stationed at, the sound of water simmering filling the small space between you. Watching you grate the cheese, he hums, fingers fiddling with the lace of your sleeve. He mutters, “I know how to be serious when I need to be.”

You hum too.

Still fiddling with the fabric, you ignore his wandering hand, fingers slipping under to roll the soft lace between his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on your skin. His touch is tentative, hesitant and gentle — one would think he’s just afraid to snag the fabric, acknowledging the craftsmanship, but one glance up at him, seeing his gaze fixated on your exposed skin more than your sleeve, you know otherwise.

“Hands to yourself, Geralt.”

“If I’m Geralt, that must make you Yennefer,” he retorts. With a laugh, he pulls away, returning to the stove to tend to the pasta sauce. You don’t realise how much warmth he generated until you feel a sudden draught.

The smell of frying onions and garlic is delicious and you’re becoming more and more starved by the second. He’s agile, moving swiftly and on muscle memory as he opens drawers and cabinets to gather the things he needs.

“How often do you cook?” You ask, arm getting tired from the motion of grating the block of cheese.

Gojo shrugs and admits, “Not as often as I’d like. Weekends are for parties and pizza and all the other days, everyone’s doing their thing, studying or whatever, and eating by myself is kinda sad, so I just eat out usually.”

“How is it possible that you eat out so often but still remain so skinny?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being spun around and pressed into the island with a hard body. His arms are caging you in, keeping you still as he grins at you.

He had thrown his jacket by the door when you both walked in; his biceps bulge as he flexes. They’re so much bigger now, or maybe they were always like that. And he’s pressed so close his Adam’s apple is right in front of you, bobbing when you tilt your head back so you can meet his eyes.

“I’m plenty jacked, actually,” he brags and to add salt to the wound, he leans down, cheek brushing against yours to whisper against your ear, “wifey.”

You shove him off, snorting at his lame line. He back away with little protest. Trying to hide the heat in your face, you wash your hands, turning away from him completely.

The rest of the hour passes by in a blink of an eye, and you finally sit down at the dining table across from each other. He’s a decent cook and you pay him a compliment even though it physically hurt to do so.

“Do you not cook very often?”

“I make sandwiches and ramen, that’s as far as I know how to do,” you admit with no shame.

He pours you a cup of water and asks, “Do you not have a chef to pre-make meals for you? My father insisted I have one, but I complained to my gramps about the lack of privacy and independence, and he gave up pretty quickly.”

You pause. It’s a stupid question to ask someone, from anyone else it’d drip in condescension, but you know he’s genuinely asking and it’s a valid question, just not one you’re ready to answer. So, with a careful shrug, you say simply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

Gojo doesn’t sense the tense quiver of your voice, or if he does, he has enough tact to ignore it, so he continues the conversation. He talks to you about what being a frat president entails, and you tell him your experiences as the Treasurer.

He also shares stories of his friends: the time ‘the gang’ snuck into the gym to put shaving cream in Toji’s locker after he had his room bubbled wrapped down to every single pair of boxers, each and every one of his friends’ drunk habits, and how he’s actually a lightweight so he sticks to beers most of the time but he hates the taste and actually much prefer cocktails.

“Wait, wait,” you say between laughs, “you drink cosmos in secret ‘cause you don’t want your frat mates knowing their president actually hates beer?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it isn’t my fault those things taste like wheat piss!”

You laugh harder. “They do! They totally do!”

“Has anyone ever said you have a pretty la—“

“Woah!” A voice yells out. “What’s going on here?”

You both turn to look at the wide-open door. Two men walk in, they’re in gym clothes, wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare between you and their president. You recognise them as second years, often hanging around Gojo in pictures or loitering in the Quad.

One guy, a fake blond, wolf whistles when he sees you. “Satoru, you didn’t tell us you were having a girl over. It’s been a while; we rarely even see your bestie nowadays.”

“Yeah, this is a sight for sore eyes. This place was getting too much hotdog and not enough buns, if you know what I mean.”

When they both guffaw, you grimace. Their voices are grating, like sharp notes, and despite yourself, you cower in your seat. You hate the way they’re looking at you, in half desire and half repulsion — they’re enjoying the sight of a woman in their space, but they don’t know what to make of your attire. Usually, you don’t let people like them get to you, not their comments and not their stares. But something’s different, you’re more sensitive, less guarded.

“Isn’t she your fiancé? We’ve heard all about her. The girls from Delta Sigma said she dresses like a witch, and well, they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Get out.”

Three heads turn. Gojo’s standing; you hadn’t seen him move. He’s leaning on his fingertips, head hanging as he stares at his empty plate. No one says a thing. There’s no air in here anymore. Only silence, a grim, gut-wrenching silence.

They stammer. “H-hey, man. What’s wrong?”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, we’re just messing around,” the fake blonde chuckles nervously.

Gojo looks up, slowly, like a creaking door. When his eyes settle on them, they stagger back with the force of his disappointment, and again with his wrath. Though you feel the tendrils of that infinite space between you, you don’t bear its impossible weight.

With his body tense, veins bulging along his arms, broad shoulders pushed back ready for something you can’t quite grasp in this moment, you realise he really is jacked. And those muscles aren’t just for show or pressing girls against marble countertops.

As great as it would be to be his friend, it’s even greater to not be his enemy. You didn’t realise it then, but you do now, if Gojo had ever really wanted to make someone disappear, he probably could have done so.

“You would do well to remember that I, as descendent of the founder of Alpha Phi Delta, have a right to terminate any fraternity brother’s membership without a need for sufficient cause. Just because I’ve never exploited that clause doesn’t mean I’m above it. So, get out. Now.”

Cheeks red and heads hung low, they walk back out without sparing you another glance.

Gojo sits back down, shoulders still tense.

The silence hasn’t disappeared, but it has lightened, much more tolerable now. With an uncertainty in your movements, you push your knife and fork together and pat your lips dry.

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful night,” you say. “I really ought to go, though.”

Gojo nods and takes your plate, leaving to go to the kitchen whilst you freshen up in the bathroom.

When you come out, he’s already waiting outside with his hands tucked in his pockets, staring up at puffs of clouds he breathes into the night sky. There’s a sombre air around him, like you’re better off not disturbing him, but when he spots you from the corner of his eye, that air evaporates and he beams, literally brightens, practically shadowing the moon.

“Hey, come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm,” he asserts with a smile.

And he does. You get into his car for the second time of the night and watch the campus blur past you. Through the ten-minute car ride, he sings along to the pop songs on the radio, bopping his head to every beat like they’re coursing through his veins.

“You don’t know these songs? Really?”

He’s completely incredulous, looking at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You roll your eyes and jokingly explain you’re committed to the aesthetic. He finds that funny. The rest of the ride continues wordlessly.

“Alright, this is me,” you announce when he parks. He climbs out the car with you, leaning against his door as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. “Despite certain parts of the time being…stiff, should we say, I had a lot of fun. Surprisingly.”

A tinge of red colours the tips of his ears. “Yeah, me too. I expected to lose my life, or at least a few limbs, at that graveyard, so I’m pretty happy with the turnout.”

You roll your eyes. “And I’m very happy I’m not covered in pig’s blood coming out of your frat house.”

“No, closest we had to that was the pasta sauce,” he chuckles.

“Which was surprisingly delicious, by the way. You should cook more often instead of the junk food you eat.”

“Says you?” He pushes your shoulder lightly. “Miss Cup Noodles.”

“Whatever.”

The conversation dies there, laughter fading as both of you eye the doors of your dorm building. You pull your cloak tighter around you, irritated that, even though he’s just in jeans and a plain graphic tee, he’s seemingly unbothered by the temperature drop.

“You should go in,” Gojo suggests, voice softer, barely louder than a whisper.

You nod and make a step to go, but then a warm hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back. He’s carrying the weight of it in his palm, thumb grazing your wrist. There’s electricity thrumming where he touches and you’re about to snatch your hand away before he tightens his grip.

“Just a second,” he mutters, before pulling out something from his pockets. Something black.

Your gloves.

You forgot to put them on, having left them in the kitchen.

He’s taking his time, smoothing the material over your knuckles, ensuring your fingers are tucked in properly. His thumb lingers on the curve of each finger, exploring the slopes. Your breath hitches as his hands envelope yours completely, his touch deliberate and light and there’s no other way to describe it: it’s positively reverent.

The glove slide snugly into place, a second skin but they feel new, as if fresh from the machine, still warm.

You shouldn’t let him reach for your other hand, shouldn’t just watch as he unfolds the other glove, slipping it on with much more care than you yourself had ever done. His eyes are watching the fabric consume more and more of your skin, until they meet the ends of your sleeve, and no skin remains.

“Gojo,” you breathe out.

He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

When he finally looks up, your eyes meet and your pulse quickens, quick and short breaths pulling your chest up and down. You didn’t even realise one hand is clutching his shoulder whilst the other remains in his grip. And you certainly don’t notice that you’re standing much closer than before, only a hair’s breadth from finding out whether his lips are as soft and plush as his touch.

“You smell really nice,” he whispers, thumb running across your knuckles, like he’s willing warmth into your hand.

You’re so close it only takes one gust of wind to push you together, to taste what a future with him could mean, to seal the first date with something that’ll keep you up at night. Just one kiss, one bad decision and everything could fade away for a second. You could pretend he’s just a boy and you’re just a girl and this is a normal date, that you have a normal relationship and tomorrow you could go back to being arranged lovers.

His lashes flutter, so long and wispy and you’re jealous. Flickering between your eyes and your lips, you know he’s searching for any sign that you might want this just as bad as he does. You’re craning your head back, back arched to reach him, and when your chest rubs against his for a millisecond, he shuts his eyes with a groan.

“Hey! If it isn’t Gojo,” a gruff voice bellows.

You step back, gasping for air and desperately smoothing your skirt down as you give a shaky smile to the newcomer. He’s a tall, buff man wearing shorts and carrying a basketball. He pats Gojo on the back, oblivious to the tension, to the way his friend is pouting, grumbling about how he ‘ruined the moment.’

The man looks at you with a friendly enough smile, eyeing your appearance with nothing more than curiosity before he gives you one of those manly nods.

“Whatcha doing at my girl’s dorm?” He asks.

Clearing his throat, Gojo answers, “Just dropping my wi—I mean, my friend off. Yeah, just stopping by.”

The guy doesn’t look ready to stop talking. So you take the initiative to excuse yourself with an awkward kiss on the white-haired boy’s cheek and you whisper, “Goodnight...Satoru.”

You don’t wait for him to reply.

Just as you’re about to enter your dorm building, you hear a distinct, “Dude, I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I? Fuck, put that thing away. You’re gonna poke my fucking eyes out!”

You smile just as your phone pings.

#jjk fluff #Gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk crack #jjk x you #gojo satoru #modern au

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pencil-n-pen · 2 months ago

Text

Princess ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.

cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?

Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/

wc: 3.3k

a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!

— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.

However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.

Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.

You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.

Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—

Most of the time you try not to think about it.

So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)

You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.

But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.

You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.

Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.

Leon Kennedy.

On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.

It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.

But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.

The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.

That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.

You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.

Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.

You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!

You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.

Don’t fall asleep in public places.

Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.

You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—

You jolt again.

Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.

It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?

“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”

The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?

You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.

“Sorr—“

“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.

This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—

“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”

You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—

“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.

“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement

“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”

You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”

“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”

“Then how come you call me that?”

“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.

It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.

You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.

“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”

You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.

“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”

It’s easy to give in after that.

You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.

Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.

He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”

You’re out like a light.

—

“No way, she’s actually asleep?”

“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”

“I did not.”

“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”

“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

—

It’s horrific, running into him in the library.

What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.

You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.

“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”

“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”

He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”

“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”

You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”

“Crying in the English section?”

“In the library, dumbass.”

He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”

You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”

He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”

“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”

He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”

“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”

You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.

“Annnd there it is. Come here.”

He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.

“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—

He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.

“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”

You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”

“It’s had worse on it.”

“Gross.”

You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”

You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.

“Why do you care if I feel better?”

Why do you care?

He shrugs against you.

“Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”

“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”

“Who taught you self care?”

“Ada. We have face mask nights.”

You jolt up. “Is she—“

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”

You begrudgingly settle back against him.

“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”

You frown. “I never said—“

“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”

“How so?”

He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.

“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”

You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”

Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“

“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”

He smirks, and you flush.

“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”

“How did you know I like the—“

“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”

You look up at him. “You remembered?”

“You were wearing your hot jeans.”

“You’re the worst.”

He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”

You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.

“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”

You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”

“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”

“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”

“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”

Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”

“I was friends with them first.”

“Ass.”

He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”

“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”

“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”

“You get on that.”

You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.

“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”

“Is the system absolute chaos?”

“Shut up.”

Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.

Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”

“I know you can.”

“Give me my bag.”

“No.”

You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”

“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“

“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”

He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”

You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.

Maybe you could get used to this.

masterlist | next part

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

740 notes · View notes

keeryhours · 4 months ago

Text

zombie movies & first kisses - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x female Henderson! reader

Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Dustin thinks Steve and his sister would make a great couple. They’re both obsessed with each other, they just don’t know it. They just need a little push.

Just first date fluff :)

Warnings:

None, just Steve fluff, kissing, zombie movie references

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N:

Excited to get my first Steve story posted! Joe Keery holds my heart in every role. I hope you enjoy this little fluffy story! Requests are open.

—

“She does not like me.” Steve sighed, scooping the mint chocolate chip ice cream and placing it on the waffle cone. He handed the ice cream to the waiting customer with a forced smile.

“She totally does,” Dustin said with full confidence as he leaned against the counter, watching Steve work. “She has Mrs. Harrington doodled all over her notebooks. I’ve seen them in her room.”

Steve laughed. “For some reason I don’t believe you.”

“Why would I lie about that?” Dustin asked, throwing his hands in the air. “You think I haven’t snooped in her room to find all the embarrassing stuff she writes about?”

“It’s not that I doubt your level of nosiness,” Steve said, moving on to helping the next customer. “I just think you’re lying because you want me to embarrass myself by asking your sister out.”

“Oh my god,” Dustin groaned, getting frustrated with his older friend. “I am not trying to embarrass you. She likes you. You’re practically obsessed with her. You’re both obsessed with each other, really. But neither of you will make a move!”

Steve considered his words as he took another order. “You’re not messing with me? You actually think she’s into me?”

“Dude, I know she’s into you. Just ask her. She might pass out on the spot, but she’ll say yes when she wakes up.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, okay. Maybe when I’m not in this stupid uniform, though.”

Dustin asked Steve for a ride home after he and Robin got off work. Steve agreed, but took the time to change out of his Scoops Ahoy uniform and into a pair of jeans and a shirt with the first button undone before he left.

Steve’s mind was racing as he drove towards the Henderson house, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel nervously. Dustin didn’t miss it, watching his friend with a smile on his face.

When they pulled up outside of the house, Steve was relieved to see Dustin’s mom wasn’t home. She could be a little overbearing.

Steve walked with Dustin up to the front door of the house, following him inside as he let himself in.

You were lounging in the living room, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a rainbow t shirt that clung to your body in just the right way. Steve gulped when he saw you, his heart rate picking up.

“Hey, sis,” Dustin greeted you, a big dumb grin on his face.

You looked up from the TV, a shy smile spreading across your lips as soon as you saw Steve. You worried all of a sudden that you should have picked a cuter outfit, should have done your makeup.

“Hey,” you greeted your brother. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve smiled at you, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of it. He was just so cute, you could hardly handle being around him.

“I’m going to get started on my homework,” Dustin announced before scurrying out of the room before either of you had the chance to say anything. You briefly thought about how it was summer and he didn’t have any homework, but Dustin was always up to something weird so you just brushed it off.

Steve stood there awkwardly for a few minutes before he slowly walked closer. “Uh, how have you been?” he finally asked.

“Good,” you answered. “I’ve been working at the movie theater for the summer.”

“Oh, cool!” Steve said, and he seemed genuinely interested. “Do you, uh…like it?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” you said. It was pretty cool as far as jobs go, you got to see free movies whenever you wanted and your coworkers were fun. “How’s Scoops Ahoy?”

Steve felt embarrassed at the mere thought of you seeing him in his uniform. “Oh, it’s fine. Free ice cream, you know.”

“That does sound nice,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, smiling down at his feet. “Hey, uh, actually,” he began, his eyes moving back up to meet yours, “I wanted to ask you something?”

“What’s up?” you asked, looking at him curiously.

Steve looked nervous, which wasn’t something you had seen very much from him. “Um, I was just wondering, you know…if you’d want to go out with me this weekend?”

Your eyes went wide at his question. “Like- like a date?”

Steve smiled at that - you weren’t outright rejecting him, and you’re just so cute. “Yeah. I was thinking like a date.”

You blushed then, looking down for a minute before you met his gaze again. “Sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Steve’s smile grew. “Yeah? How about Friday night? At 7?”

“Sounds good,” you answered, butterflies in your stomach already.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” Steve said, the grin staying on his lips as he turned and walked back towards the front door. “Later!” he called as if both to you and Dustin, before he was out the door.

You waited a full minute after he left before you grabbed a pillow from the couch and pressed your face into it, screaming and kicking your feet.

Dustin came running into the living room.

“Did he do it???”

—

When Friday rolled around, you spent the entire day freaking out about the date. You started getting ready early in the day, starting with a shower, where you took the time to thoroughly shave, not missing a single spot. You dried your hair afterwards and spent ages styling it until it laid just right. You went with a more natural makeup look, which took a lot more time than it looks like. You finally dressed in a short brown skirt and white top.

Dustin was excited for your date with Steve, but even he was at his limit by the time you got ready. He was sick of you staring at yourself in the mirror and asking his opinion on a million different outfit combinations.

When the doorbell rang, you were still looking in the mirror, making last minute touches to your appearance. Dustin answered the door, a huge grin on his face.

Steve stood there, looking nervous and handsome. He wore a button down shirt and jeans, his hair styled perfectly. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. Dustin just looked at him with that dopey smile on his face.

“Hey,” Steve greeted. “Is your sister ready?”

“Yeah,” Dustin answered, moving out of the way to let Steve inside. “She’s been done for at least an hour already but she won’t stop looking at herself in the mirror.”

Dustin yelled for you as he followed Steve into the living room. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you took one last look in the mirror before leaving your room.

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw you - you always had that kind of effect on him, but you looked especially beautiful tonight.

Steve told you so as you approached, and you smiled and blushed as you took the bouquet from his hand. Your fingers brushed against his as you took it, and it sent jolts of electricity through your whole body.

You brought the flowers to your nose, smelling them - they smelled lovely, fresh - before you said, “I should go get these in some water,” and scurried off to the kitchen.

Steve could hear the sound of water running moments later, and Dustin would not stop smiling at him like a crazy person. You were back before they knew it, smoothing down a piece of your hair as you walked.

“Ready to go?” Steve asked, holding out his arm for you.

You smiled as you linked your arm with his, and then the two of you were headed towards the door.

“You kids have fun! Don’t do anything too crazy!” Dustin called after you.

You rolled your eyes but laughed as you left the house. Steve smiled and shook his head, leading you towards his car parked against the road.

He opened the passenger door for you, and you smiled at him as you climbed in. You buckled your seatbelt as he walked around the front of the car, and you couldn’t help but admire just how handsome he was as he walked in front of you.

He climbed into the driver’s seat next to you, giving you a quick smile before he got himself buckled and started the car. He turned some music on, quiet enough that you could talk over it.

“So, where are we going?” you asked him as he pulled onto the road and began driving.

“I was thinking we could grab something to eat and see a movie? That is if you’re not tired of movies, working at the theater and all,” he said, suddenly second guessing his choice of a date.

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of movies,” you said, reassuring him. “I actually haven’t even seen one in a while.”

Steve smiled, your words making him feel better. “Well, good. I thought we’d see the movie first so we could talk about it over dinner.”

You smiled at the thought he’d put into this, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. You resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hair.

The drive to the theater wasn’t long, its proximity to the house was a factor in you applying there in the first place since you didn’t have a car yet. Steve pulled into a parking spot, killing the engine and turning to you.

“We have options,” he said, before he began listing all the different movies playing.

“Day of the Dead!” you exclaimed when that option came out of his mouth. You didn’t need to hear any more. “I’ve been dying to see that one.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah? You’re into horror movies?”

“They’re my favorite,” you said, which made his smile grow wider.

“That’s cool,” he said genuinely, and then he was climbing out of the car, quickly jogging to your side to open your door before you could do it yourself. You couldn’t help but giggle at his effort. He was being so cute, a total gentleman.

“Plus I can hold you if you get scared,” he said, grin still on his lips as you took his hand and climbed out of the car. “Or you can hold me if I get scared.”

You laughed, which only made him smile bigger.

The two of you walked towards the ticket counter, and Steve bought and paid for your tickets. Your friend and coworker, Alice, was working the ticket counter, and she gave you a sly grin as she handed the tickets over.

“Have fun, you two,” she said, with an obvious double meaning to her words. You blushed, knowing there would be questions at work. Steve didn’t miss the teasing, either.

He encouraged you to pick whatever you wanted from concessions. You got a large popcorn to share, you each got a soda, and you both picked out your favorite candies. You weren’t sure if he was going to be paying, so you brought money with you, but Steve didn’t even hesitate to pay for everything himself.

Steve had the huge tub of popcorn and a million snacks balanced in his arms as you carried the two drinks to the theater. You were relieved that it wasn’t crowded, and you found two seats together towards the back that gave you privacy and had a great view of the screen.

You got settled next to each other, drinks in the cup holders and snacks distributed between you, and you realized just how close he was. His knee brushed against yours, the rough feeling of his jeans against your bare skin sending chills through your body.

The movie began, and you shared the popcorn, your hands brushing together whenever you’d reach for some at the same time. It would send a jolt through your body, and the way his eyes would dart to yours made your heart speed up.

You were loving the movie, it was just as good as you had hoped. About halfway through, Steve shifts closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. It’s the oldest trick in the book, but it makes you smile, and you shift further into his embrace, which makes him squeeze your shoulder.

You have an even better time watching the movie snuggled up against Steve’s side. You take in just how good he smells, something you had never thought about before, but of course he was perfect in every way.

By the end of the movie, your nerves had gone, comforted by the feeling of being pressed up against Steve. It felt right, like it was where you had always belonged.

“What did you think?” Steve asked as the credits rolled and the lights came back on in the theater. He gathered up the trash from your snacks.

“I loved it,” you answered honestly, standing as he did. “The special effects were so cool.”

“Definitely,” Steve agreed with you. “That part where they pulled that guy apart was crazy.”

The two of you left the theater, dropping your trash in the can on the way out. As you walked together out of the building, Steve reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. It surprised you, but you certainly didn’t mind, holding his hand back and smiling to yourself.

Steve opened the door for you again before he climbed in on his side. You had been chatting about the movie since it ended, both of you having enjoyed it a lot.

Steve began driving again. “What are you in the mood to eat? I had somewhere in mind, but if you want something specific, we could go anywhere…”

“I’m sure whatever you picked out is perfect,” you gripped his hand over the center console, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He smiled back at you. He loved the way you always put him at ease, even when he was so nervous about impressing you.

Steve pulled into the parking lot of a steakhouse. Not too fancy, but not super casual either. Despite the theater snacks, you felt your stomach grumbling at the idea of getting something good to eat.

“They have all kinds of stuff here, if you’re not into steak,” Steve said quickly as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“I’m a big fan of steak,” you laughed. You were already thinking about what you’d order.

You waited for Steve to come around this time because you knew he’d want to open your door for you. He helped you out again, and the two of you walked hand in hand into the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you both with a big smile. “Just 2?” she asked, which Steve confirmed. She led you to a booth, giving you both a menu.

“This place is nice,” you complimented as you opened up your menu, examining the many options.

“Yeah, I’ve been here with my parents a few times, it’s good,” he said, looking over his own menu before he looked at you again, smiling. “Never brought a girl here, though.”

Knowing you were the first girl he’d brought on a date here made you feel something. You didn’t consider yourself to be a jealous person, but you had been jealous when Steve dated Nancy. You didn’t love the idea of Steve with other girls, so the knowledge that this was new territory for him too made you smile.

Your waiter came by and took your drink orders. You looked over the menu for a while longer before you were satisfied you knew what you wanted.

You were in a deep discussion about the movie when the waiter came back to take your orders. You ordered a steak, of course, with fries. Steve ordered the same thing, shooting you a smirk.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Steve complimented when your plates were placed in front of you. “I think I already said that tonight, but I couldn’t tell you enough times.”

You blushed as you looked down at your food. “Thank you,” you said. “You look really handsome. I mean, you always do.”

Steve smiled bigger at that, beginning to cut up his steak. “I always do, huh?”

Your blush grew deeper. You didn’t mean to make it sound like you had been obsessed with him, even though you have.

“You always look beautiful,” he added softly.

That made your heart flutter in your chest. He had noticed you. You always thought he didn’t know you existed.

You ate together, talking about the movie, other movies you liked, how your summers had been going, all kinds of things. Steve made you laugh a lot. He was so naturally funny, and he’d really become more of himself since school ended. He didn’t care so much about being popular and impressing his friends and looking cool. He just cared about being authentic.

When dinner was over, Steve got the check before you even had a chance to see how much it was. You offered to pay half, but he shut you down quickly.

Back in the car, he drove with one hand, intertwining his free hand with yours over the center console. You sang along to music together on the way home, and you thought this may have been the best night of your life so far.

Steve pulled up outside your house, turning the car off.

“I really had an amazing time,” he said, turning to look at you. “You’re so great to spend time with.”

You smiled at him, your cheeks heating. “I had an amazing time too, Steve.”

Steve grinned at you. He placed a hand gently on your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin there.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…” he mumbled, almost as if only to himself.

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t think he could have possibly meant it, but his face and eyes show only sincerity. It makes your heart thump harder in your chest as you look into his eyes.

He leaned in, slowly, giving you ample time to push him away. You don’t, of course. You never realized how kissable his lips were until you were this close.

His lips pressed against yours, and they felt so soft. You practically melted into his kiss, your lips moving against his as you kissed him back eagerly. He led the kiss, being more experienced than you were, you gladly let him.

You could have kissed him all night, you think, but your mom was home now and she’d be coming out to check on you if you lingered in the car for too long.

Steve finally pulled away, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. His thumb traced over your lips, wet from his kisses.

“I want to see you again,” he said, his eyes finally moving from your lips back up to your eyes. “Soon.”

“I’d like that,” you said. You were surprised how weak your voice sounded, you cleared your throat.

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked.

“Tomorrow?” you raised your eyebrows. “Uh…yeah. I’m off work tomorrow, too.”

Steve smiled. “Good. Me too. I’ll come pick you up at around 12, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

Steve opened your door for you one last time before he walked you to your front door. He leaned in and placed one more quick kiss to your lips. “See you tomorrow,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” you echoed back to him, and then you let yourself into the house, giving him a little wave as he turned to walk back to his car.

You sighed as you entered the house, feeling like you’d been holding your breath all evening. You couldn’t wipe the dreamy grin off your face.

The living room lamp turning on and Dustin speaking nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Tell me everything.”

#steve harrington #steve #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #joe keery #keeryhours writes #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine

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quin-ns · 5 months ago

Text

Twin Flame (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 11.6K

Summary: you play people just for the fun of it and they’re none the wiser. the only one who knows the real you is your best friend, rafe cameron, who you have the most fun toying with—and the feeling is mutual

Tags: (18+), toxic!rafe, toxic!reader (they match each others freak heavily), manipulative and mean!reader, violence, brief jj x reader, smidge of dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, biting, all that fun stuff and messy drama

A/N: writing toxic!reader was so fun actually. had this set pre/in season 1 in my mind so rafe isn’t fullll psycho yet. this is long ik but the plot was plotting and it’s worth it i swear

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

A lot of people would say Rafe wasn’t a great guy. Probably not even a good one. Hell, not even a decent one. But you didn’t care about any of that because, for some reason, Rafe Cameron was your best friend in the world, and you were his.

You didn’t have an exact reason for it, but everyone knew it was true. Sure, you had a few guesses. It could be because you had been Sarah’s friend first but picked him over her, and he needed that sort of validation. Maybe it was because you weren’t like his other friends, most of which you could only handle in small doses. Maybe it was because the two of you saw eye to eye on a lot of things. You looked at the world the same way as him and it was something neither of you had encountered before each other.

Or maybe it was because, even though people somewhat knew the real him, he was the only one close enough to know the real you, and he liked that.

The highs were high with Rafe for sure, but the lows were low. As much fun as the two of you had together, you would fight like words could cut and you were both going for the kill. It was because you really saw each other that you could exist in such a friendship and still return to one another. You understood the worst of each other in ways no one else could.

Whatever it was that drew him to you and kept him there, you didn’t really care. You were partners in crime so long you didn’t feel the urge to ask, and you were certain he felt the same way.

The ‘crime’ thing was literal today, which was lucky, because today was a good day between the two of you.

You were just coming off of an argument that led you to ignore him for two whole days. Then he showed up at your house with a brand new dress and an invite to a party. You’d already been invited to the same party, but the dress was a cute little black piece that was perfect for you.

Rafe was the only one of your friends who regularly bought you things, and even though you could afford them for yourself, you appreciated the thought and effort. And just like that, you accepted the bribe and forgave him. You took your time to get ready and he kept you company, catching up on the last two days as if nothing had happened. You joined him in his drug dealer, Barry’s, trailer as he bought supplies for the party.

You watched Rafe as he drove away from Barry’s with his jaw clenched. He must’ve felt you watching because it didn’t take him long to clue you in on why his mood had suddenly gone sour.

“I should’ve punched him,” Rafe said pointedly, throwing you a glance.

“He sells you coke, so suck it up,” you advised, fighting off a smirk as Rafe’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t care so I don’t see why it bothers you so much.”

Of course you got why it bothered him. Most of the time you didn’t bother to pretend around him the way you did in front of everyone else. He could easily decipher your lies and the fakeness in your tone when no one else could so why bother?

This time you were only pretending for your own amusement because Rafe was far too distracted by your interaction with Barry to really pay attention. You could see how much he regretted not forcing you to wait in the car.

It wasn’t even that bad. Barry whistled when you walked in behind Rafe, watching your hands tug down the edges of your little black dress as you entered his trailer.

“Where’d you find her and how do I get one?” Barry had said to him under his breath, although he had a hard time with volume control given that you heard clearly.

The comment set Rafe on edge. He was quick to exchange the money for drugs and hustle you out of the trailer and back into his truck, his hand on your shoulder guiding you the entire time.

“You don’t see why him saying some shit like that would bother me?” Rafe asked with a condescending tone to his voice, fully looking over at you as his truck rolled up to a red light.

Rafe wasn’t as complicated as you once thought he was. You learned his tells. The way he said it alone was enough, but the slight narrowness of his eyes told you he could go either way.

On one hand, you could push his buttons. It was easy for you to get the straight line of his mouth to turn to a frown and set him off. Sometimes it was amusing, watching him get angry. It was what you had done a couple days ago, but when he got angry he could get mean, and that led to the two day silent treatment. Tonight you were on your way to a party and that wasn’t the energy you were going for.

So there was the other hand, where you could reel him back in and get him to calm down before it was too late. Something like a sweet smile and an apology or a joke to lighten the mood would work on him.

You went with the latter given you had nothing to apologize for this time.

“Please, you’d trade me for five dollars if you really need the money,” you teased.

He hesitated for a second, like he was making up his mind. You gave him a little smile and watched Rafe’s shoulders untense. The light turned green and he faced forward again, but you could still see a similar expression appear on his face.

“Ten bucks at least, give me a little credit,” he threw back. “Twenty if I’m feeling sentimental.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “As if you ever feel sentimental.”

And just like that he was back to normal. You had the power to do that. It wasn’t a power just anyone had, controlling Rafe. Maybe “controlling” sounded a bit heavy-handed, but what else would you call it?

A few different people had told you that Rafe only seemed truly happy around you, and you figured that was true. Not many people could make him smile just because.

Conversation picked back up again, the two of you going back and forth until you were laughing like crazy. No one else had the privilege to see either of you like this, both you and Rafe grinning and rambling on.

You knew Rafe was in a better mood than before because he was speeding. He usually drove pretty fast, but it was always at a different level whenever he was really happy, or really pissed.

The hit of coke you each did at the next red light didn’t slow him down at all.

He had great speakers in his truck so blasting music was an elevated experience, and rolling the window down to let the wind whip through your hair only made it better.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe said in rapid succession, swatting at your thigh. You sat up with a start, not realizing you closed your eyes or that you had sunken into your seat. He pointed out the windshield at something up ahead, off to the side of the road. You doubted he’d noticed your brief zone-out. “You see that?”

You leaned forward and peered out the window, squinting to try and make out the figure clearly in the dark. “I think it’s a person,” you said. The closer you got, the more his headlights lit up the scene. “On a motorbike.”

“I think it’s JJ,” Rafe guessed. “He drives one of those, doesn’t he?”

You shrugged. You knew JJ—and his friends—but it wasn’t like you were friends. You only knew him because everyone in Kildare knew everyone. You didn’t concern yourself with Pogues the way Rafe did. While he would seek certain ones out to harass, you didn’t bother with anything to do with the Cut unless it directly affected you, which it hardly ever did.

That being said, when the person on the bike looked over his shoulder, it was clearly JJ. He wasn’t even wearing a helmet.

Your body was thrown as Rafe sharply jerked the wheel. Tires screeched against the pavement as the truck swerved up behind JJ as if Rafe were about to totally take him out. His truck was huge, it would be easy. Your gasp turned to a cackle as he yanked the wheel back the other way. You lunged across the truck and slammed your hand down on the horn, blaring it as Rafe let the truck swerve again.

Rafe let out a vicious laugh when JJ twisted the bike too fast in an attempt to avoid the truck and wiped out. In the side mirrors you saw he had veered into the grass. You guessed he’d skidded on the road first. You didn’t look back to see if he stood up, you were too busy watching Rafe with glee, a wicked smile plastered on your own face as he floored it down the street.

You’d been to Topper’s house on more than one occasion, and it was a party, so it wasn’t as if you were going to knock. You tugged at the skirt of your dress then barged inside, Rafe right at your back. Loud music, overlapping voices, and the smell of beer and weed filled your senses. Already energized, you moved through the crowded space with ease. You were in your element. People even parted to make way for you, but that could’ve been a perk of having Rafe looking like your bodyguard.

Rafe was here on business, not to get drunk and dance—your two favorite things about a party—but you didn’t mind sitting by his side on Topper’s couch as he offered a bump for free to draw people in and then negotiated a price for a line. The two of you usually snorted a quarter (sometimes half) of however much coke he bought, but the rest he used to try and make his money back.

Most people were uninteresting to you, but you liked to talk to them anyways. It reminded you how unimpressive everyone else your age was, which was an ego boost for sure—although, ego certainly wasn’t something you lacked to begin with.

Curiosity led you to get distracted sometimes. When you left Rafe’s side to get a drink from the kitchen you didn’t mean to be gone for long, but some guy with black hair in a crew cut and beer breath started challenging you to go against him in cup pong. You guessed he was someone’s relative or new in town because you didn’t recognize him. He boasted how he was the best—the current champion of the kitchen—and no one wanted to play against him anymore. He gave you this stupid cocky smile—not the kind of hot-but-aggravating cocky smile Rafe got when he was right about something—but the kind that made you want to ruin his life.

That would take too long, and it was energy you didn’t want to waste on him, so you played instead. You knew kicking his ass would be satisfying before you even took your first turn, and after, you got to confirm that it was. Ruining his winning streak would be enough.

Rafe taught you to play a few years ago and you only got better, but you weren’t going to thank him or anything. At this point you could probably beat him.

You left Crew Cut in the kitchen, defeated, and stumbled back to the living room. He got a few shots in so you had had a bit to drink, but you were still fully capable. Rafe would probably be annoyed at you for being gone so long, but you figured you could bat your lashes and apologize and he’d forgive you. And if not you’d blame it on Crew Cut for keeping you hostage playing cup pong and Rafe would get his knuckles bloody. Either way, you were sitting pretty.

Except, when you spotted him on the couch, you immediately saw that no, you weren’t. Spite flared in your gut at the sight of Rafe talking to some girl. She had stubby legs sticking out of a short white dress and brown hair that might’ve been pretty if it suited her. And if she brushed it properly. You wracked your memory to put a name to the face, and by the time you had stomped your way over to them, you remembered.

You forced a grin. “Hey, Bella.”

She looked up at you and gave you a smile that felt a little too sweet. “It’s Bethany,” she corrected. Eh, you were close enough. “And hey, Y/N. I didn’t know you were here.”

You wanted to glare at her, to figure out if that was some kind of insult, but you weren’t going to let her get to you that easy.

“Well, I am, and I was sitting there, so.” You shrugged, making the message so get up clear.

“Relax,” Rafe chimed in. Your eyes found him and you knew he could see past your mask. “You did get up.”

You tilted your head. There was a sourness to his voice that only you seemed to pick up on. You flicked your eyes to Bethany, who had this newly satisfied expression on her average face, then back to Rafe.

“Yeah, and it’s not like you own the couch, so,” Bethany commented, emboldened by what she assumed was Rafe backing her up. But no, it wasn’t that. He was upset, you could tell, and he was using her to bother you.

“I just went to the kitchen to get a drink,” you explained carefully.

“You were gone for a while.” Rafe's voice was too even, too controlled.

For someone who was just your best friend, Rafe was more possessive over you than any boyfriend you’d ever had. It went both ways. He was yours just as much as you were his, and apparently Bethany hadn’t gotten the memo.

“You move your feet, you lose your seat,” Bethany piped up with this obnoxious sing-song tone. “Sorry.”

You cringed at the phrase and this time let your disgust show. “What are you, four? Grow up.”

She scoffed and looked at Rafe, seeking some kind of defense, but when he finally took his eyes off you it wasn’t to look at her. His focus fell to something past you. His jaw clenched.

“Rafe,” Bethany barked at him, demanding attention. “Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?”

You almost laughed. Who did she think she was? Rafe’s priority list was short, but it was clear who was at the top and who wasn’t even on it.

“If you went to the kitchen for a drink then where is it?”

“I drank it,” you snarked.

Rafe made a noise that said he didn’t believe you. Warmth seeped into the skin on the back of your thigh just above your knee as Rafe’s hand made contact. His thumb rubbed back and forth, but neither of you acknowledged it. You got an inkling, though, and looked over your shoulder. Sure enough, you spotted Crew Cut. He was right in Rafe’s eyeline and yep, he smiled at you. What a moron.

Rafe must’ve seen the two of you playing cup pong. You were surprised by that. Not that he’d seen, but that he had gone back to sit down instead of making his presence known sooner. You looked back at Bethany, smirking with the knowledge that you’d been right all along. He thought he could make you jealous.

Bethany noticed his hand placement, but it wasn’t like Rafe was trying to hide it. She scoffed and stood, finally understanding her place.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” Upright she wasn’t as short as you thought, but still shorter than you, even in her heels. “So are you,” she spat at you, squaring her shoulders as if she was making some grand stand against you. “You deserve each other.”

This time you did laugh. Right in her face. How could you not?

“Calm down, you Shih Tzu.” Bethany made a sound of offense. “Go whine at someone else’s feet,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

The suddenness of the impact almost knocked you back. She was tiny so it wasn’t like your head was spinning from the punch. It more so caught you off guard than anything else. You did have to give her a bit of credit for that. Your nose throbbed as you brought your head back forward.

Bethany’s face was scrunched up and tomato red. The sight amused you, even as blood began to trickle from your nostrils.

“I don’t know why anyone ever said you were nice,” she sneered. If she wasn’t such an annoying little bitch you might’ve been impressed. “You wanna say anything else?

That was true, you were the nice one. That’s what made you and Rafe such a fascinating duo to the people who either knew or knew of you.

Of course, their assumptions weren’t true, but they didn’t need to know that. You didn’t have a real reason to pretend, you just did. But sometimes you didn’t bother—certain people on special occasions got the chance to meet the real Y/N.

A million lines crossed your mind from snarky remarks to scathing insults. Oh yeah, you had plenty to say.

Instead you inhaled deeply, sucking the blood back through your nose. It trickled back down your throat and once it mixed with enough saliva you spat it right in Bethany’s face. Gross, yes, but effective.

Bethany screamed. That garnered an audience. The spitty, bloody mess dripped from her face down the front of her dress. Her white dress. You smiled, not caring that blood caked your teeth. You could taste it. Who wore a white dress to a party, anyway?

Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Rafe. He’d already let his hand fall from your body. The expression on his face was a mix between annoyance from before and current amusement.

Bethany lunged at you, hands out like she was going to try and scratch you or something. She didn’t get a chance because some other girl, who you assumed must’ve been a friend, came up behind her and pulled her back. Bethany made a noise of frustration as her friend dragged her away, but she let the other girl do it anyway.

“Hey! Are you okay?” A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned. Crew Cut had wide eyes, likely having witnessed the scene.

You became aware of all the people staring at you in that moment and internally sighed.

You sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, then flinched on purpose.

“Ow,” you whined. His hands rested on both of your arms as he encouraged you to look at him. “I think it’s broken,” you whimpered loud enough for surrounding people to hear. Sounds of pity filled in around you and people started to approach. Clearly they’d all only witnessed the second half of your interaction with Bethany, which really worked in your favor.

“That girl is crazy,” some girl nearby said. “You didn’t even do anything.”

“Do you need a doctor?” someone else asked.

Tears filled your eyes. “I think so,” you croaked out to no one in particular.

A hand latched onto your bicep and pulled you away from Crew Cut and the small crowd you’d acquired.

“I’ve got her,” Rafe said firmly as he held you at his side. People started to mutter. “Come on, you’ll be okay.”

The way he said it told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Rafe knew how much you liked being the center of attention.

It didn’t stop you from milking it while you could.

“It’s not okay,” you complained. “She hit me! You saw her, Rafe!”

He leaned down to your ear, his pace quickening. “I’m not gonna fall for your shit so drop it,” he hissed.

“I don’t know if I need to go to the hospital,” you said loudly, covering for him. You put an extra touch of gratefulness to your voice. “But if you think I need to then we’ll go.”

You sniffled again, gingerly touching your nose as you walked alongside him, absorbing all the worried and supportive comments you got on your way.

They were all so busy staring at you that you doubted they could see how pissed Rafe was. Mission accomplished. He had a hard time controlling his face. They probably didn’t notice the other injury you were sustaining, either, as Rafe dug his fingers into the flesh of your arm, gripping tight as he dragged you out the door.

Rafe slowed down once you were out of the house, but still held your arm. All the action was inside so he spoke freely.

“Is your nose actually broken?”

You shook your head confidently, dropping the act from inside. “Hurts a little but it’s fine. She didn’t hit that hard, weak arms I’m guessing. Plus I always got nose bleeds easily as a kid so it looks worse than it is.”

The ease in which you explained made Rafe shake his head. You wiped your teary eyes with the back of your hand to clear up your vision as Rafe led the both of you to his truck.

“Are those even real?” he questioned, but the snark in his voice said he already knew the answer.

“No.”

If he was in a good mood, Rafe would’ve been impressed. But, he was in a bad mood, so you were faced with annoyance and anger instead.

“You’re so screwed up.”

You scoffed. “Takes one to know one,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear. “Ow!” you shrieked as Rafe applied pressure, squeezing down on your arm. “Why are you so mad at me?”

“Why do you think you can lie to me?” he snapped back.

You yanked yourself free from his hold. You’d arrived at the truck without realizing. Likely the reason he let you separate yourself—you’d end up going with him anyway.

“I told you the truth, my nose is fine. Yeah, I was faking for attention, who the fuck cares?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “That bitch still hit me. I should get a restraining order.” Rafe rolled his eyes at the dramatic yet empty threat.

Okay, so you weren’t actually going to do that, but he could show a little sympathy, couldn’t he?

“Thanks for standing back and doing nothing, by the way,” you added when he didn’t reply right away.

That provoked a reaction you wanted. Rafe took a step forward. “I’m talking about you disappearing.” Oh, yeah. “You say you’re going to get a drink, then you’re gone forever and so like a good friend I go to find you. To make sure you're okay. And then what do I see?” Rafe’s voice continued to rise with each word. “You, hanging out with some asshole!”

“What about you?” you shot back. “I go back to you and some random girl is sitting in my spot, and then you act like you can’t be bothered to back me up when she goes psycho!”

“Are you pissed because she was in your spot or jealous because she was next to me?”

“Jealous? Me?” A scoff escaped you at the accusation. Was he insane? “You have a mental breakdown because I play one dumb drinking game with a guy I don’t even care enough to learn the name of but sure, Rafe, I’m the jealous one.”

“I’m not the one who was picking fights,” he reminded, stepping closer.

“Yeah, well, she was a bitch.”

Rafe was so close he could probably hear your heart skip a beat. “So are you.”

The slap of your hand against his cheek echoed through the night air.

Your mouth fell open a little, anger melting into shock. You’d never hit Rafe before, but he was getting in your face and being a dick and you just really had to urge to. It felt long overdue, honestly. Sure, you could argue just as ruthlessly as he could, but he’d only ever gotten physical with you, not the other way around. It was never hitting, never, ever hitting, but this wouldn’t be the first time he left bruises on your arm.

The second you met him on his level, he took it further.

The air was knocked from your lungs when your chest hit the passenger door of his truck. Rafe pressed himself against your back, keeping you trapped as he heaved into your ear, “Now what made you think that would be smart?”

“Only one of us is smart and it’s definitely not you.” The retort was instinctual. Your quick replies amused Rafe most of the time, but that wasn’t the case at the moment.

“You’re so mean tonight,” he said, voice like a warning. “First you abandon me, then you make a scene, and now you’re causing problems again. I sold the rest of the coke but I might have a bump left.” God, he could be so patronizing. It was even more irritating, which was exactly what he was going for when he added, “I think you need to lighten up.”

“Fuck you,” you growled out, squirming against his hold. This was unknown territory. “Stop being a dick and let me go. This isn’t funny.”

He kept you pinned with his body, it didn’t matter that you tried to push yourself back with your palms against the car, he was solid. When his hands rose to pin each of your wrists to the window you were left completely at his mercy.

Rafe leaned down a little, his lips by your ear. Your whole body shuddered at the tickle of his breath as he whispered, “I’m not trying to be funny.” Your teeth clenched. “Are you going to behave yourself so we can go or do I need to wait? I’ve got all night.”

There was a shakiness that tangled itself into his last few words. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated when Rafe adjusted his stance.

You didn’t let him see the smirk that crossed your face. He was aroused, you could feel him pressing against you. You wanted to say something so bad because it was obvious it was for you. Something witty, something mean, something flirty—just something. But instead you closed your mouth and let your body do the talking.

You rocked your hips back slightly. Enough to let him know you felt it, but not enough to create friction. Rafe reacted how you thought he might. His hands around your wrists tightened as he nudged himself closer to you. He let out a grunt as his cock pressed more against your ass.

Your entire demeanor shifted the second you understood you had the upper hand.

“Rafe,” you said, making your voice sound all breathless. You paired the gasp of his name with rolling your hips back shamelessly.

Rafe grunted in your ear. His hips shoved forward, almost out of his control. Heat flooded your body at the feel of him. The only barrier was your clothes and those could be easily removed.

You rolled your hips again with a giggle.

“You think you’re funny?” he growled into your ear.

You nearly choked on your own tongue. You’d always found Rafe attractive but this whole scenario just put it on another level. You pressed your thighs together to control yourself, but a shaky breath managed to escape. You were having a hard time deciphering what was authentic and what was just for fun.

One of his hands released your wrist in favor of resting around your neck. Not quite squeezing, just holding. The pressure was just enough to let you know it was there and now you were really losing your grip on this whole thing. You shivered against him, your body going rogue. So much for being in control.

Rafe leaned in even closer, his lips pressed right next to your ear as he warned, “if you don’t stop that I’m gonna have to fuck you right here.”

You swallowed hard. No words came to mind.

You and Rafe had never crossed the line in all your years of friendship, which surprised a lot of people. Sometimes you wondered about it, like now. How could you not? He was hot and so were you, and you spent nearly all your time together. Rafe understood you even when it came back to bite you. There was something about him not just toeing the line but stepping fully over it with those words that thrilled you.

You could give in. You wanted to give in because honestly the fact that you never even kissed him, let alone fucked him, was confusing to you now. It would only add another layer to the messy thing you called your friendship, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Not with his hand on your neck and his lips at your ear and his cock throbbing against you.

A wicked idea appeared in your head. One fueled by pettiness and your desire for control that you’d forgotten for a moment, but not forever.

Rafe had you caged but not fully trapped. You’d stopped fighting against him, so it wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been to twist your way free from his hold.

“Then let’s go,” you said, not facing him because you’d definitely break if you did.

You yanked open the passenger door and climbed into the truck. Once it shut you looked out the window and found him staring back. Confused, frustrated, and stunned. You smirked to yourself.

Rafe got it together and crossed to the driver's side. He got in without a word. His jaw was clenched too tight. His hand fell to his lap, not even hiding the fact that he was adjusting himself before starting up the truck.

The drive was so quiet it made you want to laugh. Rafe kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye, like he wasn’t sure whether to keep ignoring you or pounce on you. That was just the way you wanted it for now. Now that you knew you were something he wanted, you couldn’t make things easy for him.

You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. Knowing you’d worked him up like this. It was his turn to suffer a little. Serves him right for earlier. You did get punched after all and he didn’t defend you the way he should’ve.

When he stopped in front of your house all you got was a sharp, “Goodnight.”

“Dream about me,” you said before you slid out and shut the truck door.

Even though you had to ice your nose, you went to bed with a smile on your face that night. Rafe probably went home and took matters into his own hands, pun intended, and you’d bet anything you were on his mind while he did.

You saw him the very next day at the country club. You caught a ride with Topper for the simple reason you knew it would get under Rafe’s skin that you didn’t ask him by default like usual.

Of course you were right. He had a certain intensity to him when he arrived at your usual table and found you and Topper too wrapped up in conversation to notice him. You did notice him, though. You just didn’t show it.

“Hey, man,” Topper greeted him finally, still chuckling from something you had said. You turned your head to acknowledge Rafe but didn’t say a word.

Usually, Rafe would sit across from you. It just made the most sense since the two of you would often get caught up in your own conversations. Topper had even opted for a seat next to the one right across from you because of this.

Instead of taking his usual spot, Rafe dragged out the chair right beside you and sat down. He didn’t acknowledge you either. Topper’s eyes flicked between the two of you, sensing something but not willing to comment on it aloud.

So, he was still pissed about yesterday. Not that it surprised you or anything. Just a very obvious observation.

Soon enough Kelce showed and it made it easier to not comment on what was going on between you and Rafe.

“How’s your nose?” Kelce asked. He ended up across from you since Rafe left that seat open.

You pressed your fingers gingerly to the bridge. “It’s a little sore but I’m okay.”

“Why’d she even hit you?” Kelce wondered.

“Y/N didn’t do anything,” Topper jumped in to defend you. Kelce didn’t necessarily have an accusing tone to his voice, but the question was enough to garner backup. “That chick was crazy.”

You fought to keep the smugness out of your smile. Most boys were easy—like Topper. When he picked you up and asked how you were feeling, you sniffled and told him you didn’t understand what happened. He told you it wasn’t your fault. Even though he’d been nowhere nearby when it happened, he sure sounded confident.

Kelce chuckled a bit. “I heard you spit blood in her face. That’s pretty wicked, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

These two were more Rafe’s friends than your own, but you still saw them a decent amount. Enough that you had infiltrated their little trio—but you weren’t ’one of the guys’. You found girls who went out of their way to act like that annoying. You got along fine with each of them, but they weren’t the type of friends you’d hang out with without Rafe around.

Speaking of Rafe, he’d been pretty quiet since he arrived. It was the kind of quiet he got when he was agitated, but hadn’t quite reached that tipping point for today.

Just when you thought he’d be some kind of mute the rest of lunch, he made a sort of scoffing noise after Kelce’s comment.

“Well, then you don’t know her,” Rafe replied over the brim of his glass before taking a drink.

You shot him a glare. God, he was petty.

You looked at Topper and Kelce and forced a giggle. A really girly one for extra measure.

“Someone’s grumpy today,” you said in a loud whisper. The two guys smirked to themselves when you dramatically turned to Rafe. “What’s wrong? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You faked a pout when you really wanted to grin. “Any weird dreams?”

Rafe faced you. He remembered your comment. One of your favorite pastimes was screwing with him just because you could.

“I slept just fine,” Rafe answered smoothly. He tilted his head a little. You narrowed your eyes. There was a look of mischief in his. “What about you?”

You nearly jumped when his hand landed on your bare thigh. The seats at the table were close enough he didn’t have to noticeably shift to make contact. Rafe raised his brows, letting his fingers kneed into your supple skin. Maybe you should’ve worn pants.

You bit your lip before turning it to a smile. “Same here.”

“Nothing keeping you up at night?” Rafe wondered less than innocently.

You shook your head. “Nope.”

He hummed. His hand slid further up your leg. “Nothing worth thinking about?”

So badly you wanted to say something snarky like, “just because you went home and got off to the thought of me doesn’t mean I returned the favor,” but that seemed like a bit much with Topper and Kelce right across the table. They didn’t get to know how clever you could be.

Speaking of the other boys, you had almost forgotten about them during your stare-down with Rafe.

“Are you guys going to the kegger at the Boneyard tonight?” Topper wondered, breaking the tension you and Rafe had created.

Rafe looked away first. “It’s gonna be overrun with Pogues,” he dismissed.

Just because of that you said, “I’m going.” Rafe threw you a glance. “What? The Boneyard is like… middle ground. There’s peace and there’s free alcohol.”

The second part was true, but the first? It depended on the night and what drama was currently going on. Some nights everyone just hung out and got drunk and had fun, and other nights there were fights that broke out. It was really just a toss of the coin.

“If you don’t go I won’t have a ride,” you told Rafe, but before he could open his mouth, you cheerfully turned to Topper. “If you’re going do you think you could give me a ride? This morning was fun, we could keep the karoke going.”

Topper blushed a little while you beamed at him. You’d gotten him to sing along to some pop songs that played on the radio—not exactly ‘karaoke’ but it had the intended effect.

No sooner than you asked was Rafe saying, “I’m going.” There was a bite to his tone that had Topper looking a little lost. Rafe’s fingertips pressed into your skin. “I didn’t say I wasn’t. I’ll give you a ride, it’s no problem.”

It was a problem, that was the point.

“Hello, gentlemen!” A waitress appeared with a big smile and too much pep in her step. You gave her a look that had her swallowing. “And lady. What can I get for you all?”

Rafe flashed her that stupid charming smile of his. The one he gave when he wanted something.

You wanted to gag when he started flirting with her, but you kept it in. It was embarrassing, honestly, for him. You wanted to smack him and tell him to stop making a fool of himself, and then you wanted to do the same to the waitress when she let out a snorty little laugh. Whatever he said wasn’t that funny, and laughing wasn’t going to get her a bigger tip.

While he was flirting and you were seething, Rafe’s hand stayed on your thigh. He rubbed little circles with his thumb and it told you where his mind really was.

When the waitress disappeared, you unclenched your jaw, which you hadn’t realized you’d done, but you didn’t speak right away. Rafe started a conversation with the guys and all you did for now was listen.

Rafe slid his hand further up, talking to them as if his fingers weren’t creeping towards your center. A thrill shot through you at the idea because all this with Rafe was new territory. The warmth in your face and your core told you to let him continue just to see what would happen—then your ego, your desire to win, took over.

You crossed your legs, trapping his hand. Sure, he couldn’t pull it away, but he also couldn’t move it closer. You chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when Rafe’s voice faltered while talking.

“You good?” you asked casually, as if you’d been up to nothing but listening.

Rafe recovered quickly. He flexed his hand a little and you squeezed it between your thighs. If he really wanted to he could probably yank himself free, but he didn’t try. He also couldn’t get any closer towards his goal. He let you have your minor win, which in all honesty it wasn’t that much of a loss to him so he could live with it, but at least you had some bit of control again.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. You shrugged, and then he went on talking again.

When the waitress returned he hardly acknowledged her, which she looked a little miffed by, but he couldn't be bothered to care about her.

This was more of a draw when it came down to it, but you could live with that—for now.

You wore your lucky pink bikini with a pair of jeans shorts over it for the kegger.

True to his word Rafe picked you up and the two of you rode together to the Boneyard. Conversation was light, both of you playing defense, not wanting to show your hand. For as much as he was eyeing you he didn’t make a move. The topics were unimportant, so much so you had already forgotten what you’d said by the time you got to the beach.

As you walked towards the shore with Rafe at your side, you admitted to yourself you didn’t exactly have a game plan. You were determined to win this little feud, but how to do that? You didn’t have that worked out. You were still bitter about the fact he hadn’t defended you, and now the whole thing with the waitress was sitting on top of that. You had to get him back and get him good—something that would make him never forget who had the power between the two of you.

And if it scared him enough to make him never flirt with another girl again? Well, you wouldn’t be opposed to hearing him out if he had any ideas for alternatives.

You could see yourself being with Rafe. You really could. Not the way that most girls could, not just because he was handsome, and rich, and charming if he put in the effort. All those things were definitely a plus, but they didn’t understand him the way you did, and he’d never bother to understand them the way he understood you.

Even if your whole night was dedicated to winning against him, when it came down to it, you were equals. That’s what made him such a challenge, and the challenge is what made him so exciting. It was why you could drive each other to the brink of insanity one night and then hang out and laugh together the next.

The thought of a truce entered your mind. Rafe’s arm kept brushing against yours as the two of you joined the party. He looked good in the shirt he’d picked out, and you noticed he was wearing the cologne you liked. He’d been at your house right on time and had gotten out to open the passenger side door for you.

“Rafe?” you said, but evidently not loud enough.

Before you could continue he said, “I’ll be back,” and disappeared off towards the keg without a further word. Not even a glance back.

You shut your mouth and frowned. Would he even be back? You let out a huff.

It didn’t matter, you weren’t going to stand around waiting for him. You couldn’t let him think that was something he could just do. Make you wait around for him. What a dick. You felt like an idiot for even letting the word ‘truce’ enter your mind.

You looked around a little aimlessly. You weren’t about to go join Rafe and your other friends—you weren’t some follower. Your eyes wandered the scattered crowds until they landed on someone that brought a grin to your face.

Go big or go home.

He was standing practically by himself at the least populated keg. You smiled to yourself as you watched the blond fill his red solo cup with beer, chug it, then immediately refill it without so much as setting down the hose.

“Hey,” you said once you’d reached speaking distance. “Don’t you usually have a group of friends you hang with? They didn’t abandon you, did they?”

JJ looked a little surprised at your presence, but when your words registered he chuckled.

“If you wanna get technical then I abandoned them,” he replied coolly.

He nodded his head towards the water and sure enough, John B and Pope were standing in a group talking. No sign of your sort of ex friend, Kiara. You weren’t besties with her the way she and Sarah had been, but you also didn’t turn around and hate on her the way Sarah had. Things had always been a little off with you and the oldest Cameron girl ever since you and Rafe became the duo that you were, so her opinion wasn’t all that defining to you the way it was to others, so Kie wasn’t so bad in your books, but you weren’t still hanging with her either. You hardly thought of her at all to tell the truth.

“What about you?” JJ raised a brow.

“All alone tonight I guess.” You sighed. JJ didn’t say anything for a moment, regarding you. You cast your eyes down to his leg and gasped. “That looks awful! Are you okay?”

There was a huge scrape on his knee with some bruising around it. You knew exactly what, well who had caused it.

JJ didn’t need to know you were in the passenger seat, or that you hadn’t given him a second thought until now.

You looked at his right arm. Gently you reached out to grab it, avoiding the freshly damaged skin. He looked taken aback, likely not expecting the softness or concern from you.

“JJ…” you continued sympathetically, tenderly brushing over the area next to the injury. “What happened?”

His cup crinkled in his fist as his body tensed. He pulled his arm from your grasp and you frowned at him. He took a sip from his drink, watching you over the rim of his cup.

He lowered it after a long drink. “Got ran off the road by that asshole you hang out with,” he finally replied, casting his eyes away.

You shook your head shamefully. “Rafe is an asshole,” you said. There was nothing disingenuous about those words at least.

JJ wasn’t sure whether to frown or laugh.

“Have you and I ever had a full conversation before?”

You smiled at the way he vocalized the first thought that came to his brain. You shook your head.

“Not a full one I don’t think. Definitely not one on one.” You paused. “We could change that, though.”

JJ’s demeanor shifted, relaxing a bit. As if it were some kind of test, he refilled his solo cup to the brim, then extended it out to you.

You weren’t one to fail a test. You accepted it with a smile and took a gulp. JJ was grinning by the time you finished with a noise of satisfaction.

“Alright, maybe I didn’t have you figured out after all,” JJ decided, raising his hands in a little surrender like you’d caught him.

“Guess not,” you agreed.

You found yourself sitting across from him right in the sand. It hadn’t bothered him so you didn’t let it seem like it bothered you. It was easier said than done with the little grains digging in and you knew they’d be stuck to you all night, but you weren’t going to start seeming like the kind of girl who complained.

JJ was fun and carefree, so you were fun and carefree. You tapped into that side of yourself and amplified it. You tried to keep some reality in whatever performance you were putting on.

“You shouldn’t itch that,” you warned. JJ had scratched at the scab on his forearm yet again. “It’ll scar worse if you irritate it.”

“I know how scars work, thanks, doc.” It was sarcastic but it wasn’t mean, which threw you off. “It’s just annoying.” He extended his leg and looked down at it. “And definitely fucked for a few weeks. Looks worse than it is, though.”

“It’s not so bad,” you offered. “And if you don’t scratch I’m sure it’ll heal just fine.” A playful smirk wandered onto your lips. “But I think it makes you look kinda tough, y’know?”

“Tough, huh?”

“I mean, not that you need it or anything.” The shy laugh that left you sounded so natural. God, you were good. “Sorry, that was weird. I just—it’ll heal, but until it does, don't worry about how it looks, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I wasn’t, but thanks.” JJ was smiling, clearly relishing in his perceived victory of managing to fluster you in so few words. “I don’t get how a sweet girl like you can hang out with a guy like Rafe.”

If only he knew.

You swallowed and shrugged. You turned your eyes down. “I don’t know either, sometimes.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” JJ said. He moved then. You heard him. By the time you looked up, the blond was sitting by your side. He gave you a lopsided smile. “That’s nothing against you, it’s just…”

“Rafe’s an asshole?” you supplied. “We already established that, remember?” You let your voice waver just enough that JJ felt a little guilty, but also have enough humor that he knew he could fix it.

“You’re a great girl, and I’m guessing you know how I feel about Kooks. So I’m I’m not saying that lightly, alright?” JJ began playfully. You met his eyes and smiled softly. “Why do you put up with him?”

He wanted to save you. How funny.

“I… I don’t want to talk about Rafe. I wanna keep talking about you. What have you been up to this summer?”

That got him talking again. It was easier that way. You could just react; smile, nod along, make little noises or mutter a few words.

He was in the middle of yet another surfing story from the other week when you put your head on his shoulder. JJ didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you.

If Rafe could see you now.

It’s not that you cared where he was, or what he was doing, or who he was doing it with, but you knew he’d care what you were up to. He’d care when he found out only after the fact where you were directing your night with JJ, one of the good for nothing Pogues that he loathed.

What would he say when he found out you invited JJ Maybank into your bed when all he got was a hand on your thigh for a few minutes under a table? That would show him.

Actually, more than that, it would drive him crazy. Letting you know he wanted you, and then continuing to play games was probably the stupidest thing Rafe Cameron could’ve ever done. If it was a game you were going to win.

Who cared if it sent him over the edge? You sure didn’t.

A gust of ocean air came at the right time. You shivered dramatically and JJ frowned at you, pausing mid sentence to ask if you had a jacket. He didn’t have one to offer. That worked out just fine for you because you had an offer of your own. One you were certain he wasn’t going to turn down.

“Actually, would you mind giving me a ride back to my place? My friend kind of ditched me,” you asked politely. JJ, ever the gentleman, masked his disappointment and agreed. He got to his feet and offered a hand. “And if you want, you could stay and, I don’t know, hang out…”

JJ brows rose. “Hang out?” he parroted back to you.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yeah. Hang out.” You brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. A grin spread across his face. “That cool with you?”

“Lead the way,” he encouraged, energy quickly returning.

You reached for his hand and he let you take it.

“You’re driving, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll lead the way.”

You laughed with him, giving his hand a little squeeze.

To be fair, JJ was very attractive. And he was not so bad to talk to. He didn’t even give you shit for being a Kook, which you had expected he would. He’d only commented on your friendship with Rafe but you’d played into that well. You’d enjoyed yourself with him. On another occasion if he had approached you, you’d probably indulge him at least for a while. Maybe even sleep with him like you were planning to now. You’d heard the rumors about him and so you were pretty confident you’d have fun.

Although, the real fun would start after, when you got to throw it in Rafe’s face and watch him lose it.

There was only one problem with your plan. Rafe spotted you before you could leave.

“Y/N!” Rafe called. You turned and so did JJ. JJ clutched your hand tighter as Rafe approached. If looks could kill, you and JJ would both be dead. You smirked to yourself. You couldn’t help it. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Back off, Rafe.” JJ was surprised but he still managed to sound threatening. He probably didn’t think Rafe was even here since you’d failed to mention it. “You don’t own her.”

Poor, sweet, dumb, JJ.

Any other disagreement, any other issue, Rafe might’ve gone along with the back and forth for a minute. Not when it came to you.

JJ had no time to dodge before Rafe was slamming his fist into his face. You grit your teeth. Your nose twitched. Now that was a real punch. Rafe quickly followed up with another right to JJ’s stomach.

JJ fell to the ground with a grunt. You managed to drop his hand just in time. Rafe was on top of JJ in an instant, pummeling him. It was dark, but you could smell blood mixing with the scent of the sea. The sound of Rafe’s fists cracked against JJ’s face told you there’d be bruises.

JJ managed to get out from beneath him, but Rafe wasn’t about to back off. It became an all out brawl. Over you, of all things. Wasn’t that romantic? You giggled to yourself when you had to step back because JJ threw Rafe off of him. You watched with shallow, excited breaths when Rafe got back to his feet and charged.

“Hey!” someone screamed from a distance. You didn’t recognize the voice, but when you turned your head, you saw a group of partygoers approaching. “Knock it off!”

You rolled your eyes. You cleared your throat. The group was getting closer so you let loose.

“Guys! Stop it, please!” you shrieked, as if you had been begging this entire time. “Stop!”

A hand landed on your shoulder.

“Stand back, Y/N,” Topper said, blocking you with his body.

“They won’t stop,” you cried pathetically. “Someone is going to get seriously hurt!”

Topper registered your concern and then took it upon himself to intervene. John B joined him. He’d come out of nowhere. The group that had gathered around the fight had grown within seconds. Some were yelling at them to quit while others clapped and shouted encouragement.

John B pried JJ away and Topper got ahold of Rafe. JJ tried to run back at Rafe but then Pope got in front of him. You didn’t hear what he said to the blond but JJ backed down. He looked at you, still restrained by his friends after fighting for your honor. You spotted a black eye forming and a busted lip. It was pretty hot.

“Rafe, man—“

“Get your hands off me,” Rafe snapped at Topper like something feral. He got your attention without even asking. You met his gaze and he looked… well, crazy. You don’t think that would come until later. “Y/N,” he muttered your name as he approached you. “We’re leaving.”

Rafe didn’t wait for you to respond. His hand snapped out, gripping your bicep and dragging you along behind him.

You nearly stumbled over your feet from the force. Behind you there were protests, and Topper even began to follow, so you had no choice.

“It’s fine,” you called back to him. “I’m going with him.” You were sure JJ heard and for the first time in a long, long while you felt a small twinge of guilt.

It didn’t last long when Rafe shoved you against the side of his truck. He ripped open the passenger side door. The wild look in his eyes almost scared you. Almost.

“Get in.”

You obeyed. He hardly left you time to scramble in before he was slamming the door shut behind you. You watched Rafe as if he were some kind of predator, analyzing his movements as he stalked to the driver’s side and climbed in next to you.

You weren’t going to be the first one to speak. Rafe was speeding like there was no such thing as a limit. The only move you made was to buckle your seatbelt. It took a long few minutes before Rafe finally spoke.

“I told you I’d be back,” he finally grit out.

“You didn’t notice I was gone until I was leaving,” you shot back.

Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“I was looking for you.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped. “You didn’t give a damn where I was until I was leaving with JJ—“

Rafe slammed on the break. Your whole body jolted. The seat belt tightened against you and your head hit the head rest. Before you could scream at him your vision cleared and you realized you were in front of your house.

“Don’t say his name.” The way Rafe said it made him seem dangerous.

You looked at him, eyes wide, gauging what to do next. This was the most terrified you had ever been of him, and yet…

“Your cheek is cut,” you pointed out, voice as steady as you could make it. JJ wore rings. You bet it hurt. “Come in and let me clean it.”

You didn’t leave room for debate. You and Rafe watched one another with caution, regarding the other as a threat.

In a way you were both right.

You got out of the truck first. You made it to your door, knowing Rafe was right behind you.

You went through the motions almost robotically as you took him into the bathroom. You turned on the light and made him sit on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit was in the cabinet and you found everything you needed right inside.

For knowing you had caused all of this, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. Which was odd, because you always seemed to figure out the next step one way or another, but right now, cleaning Rafe’s cheek with an alcohol wipe, watching his jaw tense with the stinging pain, you were unsure how to proceed.

What do you do when you get your way, or at least you think you got your way, but not in the way you had planned?

Rafe swatted your hand away when you tried to open a bandaid.

“Don’t put that thing on me, it’s fine,” Rafe protested. He placed his hands on your hips. You thought he was going to push you back, but he just sort of held you in place.

“Don’t be a baby.”

Rafe ignored you. He dropped his forehead to your stomach. It was almost as if you were an altar for him to worship at. You ran a hand through his hair, finding the sight to be nothing short of beautiful. You couldn’t help yourself.

He muttered something that sounded like, “Why do you do this to me?” You didn’t answer. He took a breath. “Were you gonna fuck him?” Rafe asked. You were sure of his words this time.

You could lie, you thought, but then decided against it. There was no point now.

Rafe tilted his head up, blue eyes searching yours. There was a sense of longing in them that you noticed every once in a while. That sad little need for approval that he couldn’t get rid of.

“Yeah, probably,” you admitted.

Fire ignited in his eyes.

Just as quickly as he became weak to you, Rafe snapped out of it. He was on his feet in seconds. He towered over you, backing you up with each step until you hit the edge of your counter.

Rafe looked down his nose at you. “Were you gonna fuck him?” he asked again, as if intimidation would change your answer.

You stared up at him, defiant. “Yeah,” you repeated, hopping up to sit on the counter. “Probably.”

Rafe’s bruised hand reached up to cup your face. He watched his thumb as it ran over your lips. When it rested on your bottom lip you opened your mouth. Rafe was transfixed as he slid the digit in. Your mouth enveloped him, swirling your tongue around his thumb. You swore you could taste a little blood.

Rafe made a noise of satisfaction and quickly removed it, covering your lips with his own, filling your mouth with his tongue instead. You moaned into the kiss. It was harsh and hungry. Everything that had been building up over the past day, hell, past years, was finally spilling out. The dam had finally broken. There was no turning back.

“You make me crazy,” he grunted against your lips when he came up for air. You panted, words failing to form as his hand slid between your bodies. “And I know I make you crazy.” His fingers slipped into your shorts and bikini bottom, which you hadn’t even gotten to show off. You hadn’t needed to. You gasped as he pressed a finger into your core. He grinned at the wetness that had already formed. “I know it ‘cause I know you.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your ear.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name, bucking against his hand. He rewarded you with pushing another finger in and thrusting them both with precision.

“I’m the only one that knows you,” he hissed. You shivered as his breath hit your ear, noting the anger. But there was something else to it. “I’m the only one who gets to have you.”

Desperation.

Rafe was desperate for you. For you to understand, for you to agree, for you to feel the same. Desperate for you to want him the way he wanted you.

“Tell me you weren’t,” he pleaded, voice shaking with the rage he was trying to contain.

He wanted you to lie.

“I wasn’t.” Rafe hummed and pressed an approving kiss to your neck. He twisted his fingers inside you, forcing a moan past your lips. His teeth sank into the skin of your neck, sucking and biting as you managed to gasp out, “I wasn’t, I swear.”

Rafe pulled his fingers from you and you whined at the loss. He made up for it by kissing his way back to your lips, swallowing your sounds. He popped the button off your shorts and tucked his hands into the waistband. You lifted yourself long enough for him to yank down your shorts, leaving you bare.

You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and kissed him harder when his hands gripped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the counter. Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, drawing an animalistic sound from him.

“Tell me you want me,” Rafe managed.

You pulled back, eyes flicking from his swollen lips to his hungry eyes. The corner of your lip quirked up a little.

“I thought it was obvious,” you mused, reaching between your bodies.

“I’m gonna fuck you either way, so you might as well just tell me.” There was a devious glint in Rafe’s eyes that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You pulled your lip between your teeth and you undid his belt. You reached into his pants and found his cock hard and waiting for your touch. Rafe’s hands tightened on your thighs. “I want you, Rafe,” you said exactly what he wanted to hear, voice heavy with lust, every word the truth.

Rafe surged forward, capturing your lips. He shoved his pants down as you stroked him, but he had plans of his own. Rafe pushed himself closer to you, spreading your legs apart with his hips, and gripped his cock. The head pressed at your entrance and you nearly choked when he thrust in with no further warning.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cursed. Your hands found his back, holding on as he invaded your body.

Thick and long, his cock split you open. Rafe grunted, mouth moving over you in a frenzy, kissing wherever he could reach in that second. Your top came off somewhere in the haze and you moaned as his mouth latched onto your breast. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your cunt squeezed him. Rafe’s hands found your waist again, holding you in place as he began to move.

He gave you little time to adjust but you would’ve gone crazy if he waited any longer. Rafe pulled back, letting you feel the thick drag of his cock leaving you, before he thrust in again. And again. And again. All you could do was hold on as he slammed into you, letting everything that had built up go. You welcomed it. All his anger and lust and frustration and love and just everything. Everything said and unsaid between the two of you was finally getting a resolution.

Rafe’s mouth found its way back to your neck, licking and sucking and biting your flesh. He was marking it, marking you, for the world to see. So when they saw the purple marks decorating your neck, everyone would know you belonged to him. But didn’t they know already? To some degree?

It didn’t matter to Rafe. He was making it clear. There was no room for doubt now.

Rafe fucked you like it was the last thing he’d ever do, like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. Your moans filled the room, your curses and his grunts of your name, the sound of skin against skin, the smell of sex—all of it flooded your senses in the most thrilling way. You wanted nothing more than Rafe and nothing less than everything he was giving you.

The pleasure he inflicted was like nothing you had ever experienced and you knew in that moment nothing and no one would ever compare to the high you felt with him.

He pounded into you hard, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. Your thighs clenched around his waist, your legs holding him against you. Rafe filled you entirely, drawing out every animalistic need you had.

“Fuck,” he cursed, lifting his head. You moaned at just the sound of his voice. “You’re so tight. Like you’re made for me.”

Your cunt clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls squeezed him. Your body tensed and your breaths grew even more ragged as he pushed you closer and closer towards your edge.

“Rafe, don’t stop,” you gasped out.

His hand found your throat. Your eyes snapped open as he gave it a squeeze. He forced you to meet his gaze. You nearly fell apart just from that.

“It’s always been me, hasn’t it?” he asked, wanting an answer. You nodded because yes, yes it has. “It’s always going to be only you and only me. Only me.” You nodded again, lips only parting to let out a moan when he gave a sharp thrust. “Tell me.”

“You, Rafe,” you fumbled out. “It’s always been you—it's only you,” you said in almost a plea. “I want us.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Rafe gave a sound of approval and a light squeeze of your neck. His thrusts stayed sharp and precise and soon enough you were falling apart in his hold.

His cock shoving into you, his hand on your neck, the look on his face—you were consumed by Rafe and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You let out a cry of his name when your orgasm hit. It crashed over you in a wave, rocking your entire body. Your legs and cunt both tightened, holding him impossibly close inside you. Rafe’s lips devoured yours, smothering your moans and whimpers as you shook against him.

Rafe gave a few more rough, constricted thrusts before a deep groan escaped his lips. His hips stilled and warmth flooded your insides. He shivered against you when you slid your hands beneath his shirt and dragged your nails along his back.

His hand finally left the front of your neck, but it didn’t go far as he slid his palm to cup the back of it. Rafe pressed his forehead to yours, both of you catching your breath.

You took one hand and reached for him, running your fingers over the cut on his cheek.

“I still think you should put a bandaid on it,” you managed, voice weak.

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled away. And just like that you two were all good again.

“I think I’ll pass.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one. Took you this long to admit you wanted me.”

You gawked at that. “I admitted I wanted you? Seems like it was the other way around. In fact—“

But before you could finish, Rafe silenced you with a deep kiss. His cock twitched inside of you and you couldn’t help but giggle against his lips.

Rafe was only kissing you to shut you up because you were right, and he knew it too. You were always right and Rafe was going to have to learn to accept that one way or another.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #mean!rafe #mean!reader #rafe cameron smut #obx #outer banks #quin-ns writing

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sovasleepy · 8 months ago

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jealousy (valorant x reader)

[ chamber, gekko, sova, omen x gn!reader ] — in which valorant men get a little jealous

tw: jealous and a little overprotectiveness but they’re (mostly) healthy about it. a little cursing for some flavor. random guy flirts with you in chamber's but hes not creepy about it. different guy is also creepy in omen's but its not talked about in detail. chamber makes a sexual joke in his.

CHAMBER ━━━

hot take: he’s so protective at all times idc idc

but he hides it so so well

he’s absolutely enamored by you, there’s no denying that. that’s only half the reason why he tries to show you off so much though

the other reason is because that means he is showing you off as his. he’s staking his claim on you in his own odd little way, but it works and neither of you mind it too much

━━━━━━

“are you sure this shirt doesn’t make me look weird?” you asked, tugging at the material.

as much as you loved it, you couldn’t quite tell me if it was ‘you.’ you stepped out of the changing room of the store you were in and into the hallway, where chamber sat patiently waiting. he loved a fashion show if it was yours, after all.

he pretended to inspect it thoroughly, leaning forward in his chair and narrowing his eyes.

before he could answer, however, a different voice sounded out. it came from the door next to yours, where a different man had walked into the hallway to look at his own clothes.

“it looks good,” he spoke, smirk creeping its way onto his face. “but i imagine you’d look good in anything, huh?”

both you and chamber sat still and quiet for a few beats, as if registering what had just happened. the line was well delivered, but seriously? could he not tell that you were with chamber?

“well,” chamber spoke loudly. “they do look good in anything. and in nothing. we could see how you look when the shirt is on our bedroom floor, how’s that, ma cheri?”

you attempted to ignore the warmth that rose in your face, but failed. again, you were stunned. the opposing man blanched and retreated back to his changing room, where he quickly shut the door.

“come now, love. i think a thousand dollars in one shopping trip is enough, no? or should we stop by one more store?” chamber was overly loud once again.

and lying through his teeth, as well — you’d come to retrieve a single shirt for an event. that said, you couldn’t help but laugh as the occupant of changing room next to yours fumbled over himself, apparently knocked something down, and released a string of curses.

he didn’t have to know chamber was lying, and you didn’t have to know chamber was lying because he knew he’d earn a laugh from you.

GEKKO ━━━

gekko has like. a normal amount of jealousy?

he’ll bite back the small senses of it whenever you’re giving another guy a little more attention that he would like you to

or he’ll politely explain to you that he doesn’t really like you doing something because of how it makes him feel and you’ll talk it through

not because he doesn’t trust you, he just needs that extra little reassurance

if you’re willing to give up doing something to give him that peace of mind? all the better. if not? he can work on it, no questions asked.

overall 10/10 v good communication skills i love him

━━━━━━

you could tell that gekko was uneasy. from the way his nails picked at his fingers and the constant bouncing of his knee, to the avoidance of eye contact and the way his speech was quiet and mumbled, gekko’s demeanor screamed something was wrong.

you watched him carefully as you sat back down at the table. again, his eyes didn’t move from the place they were locked onto.

a few moments passed as you thought of what could have been wrong. the two of you were at some company party, with loud music coming through the speakers and an unholy amount of people piled into the room. everyone was dressed formally in either dresses or suits, their makeup done perfectly and not a hair out of place.

maybe that’s what was wrong. perhaps the music was too loud or his suit was too tight.

“mateo?” you had to yell over the music, despite wanting your voice to be soft as you spoke to him.

he finally looked up to you, soft eyes scanning your face. he didn’t speak, but he hummed to acknowledge you audibly.

“is everything alright? you seem a little off.”

the question seemed to stun him for a few moments as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked back down to the table. after a deep breath, he finally answered. “i just felt a little… i dunno. saying i was jealous feels a little funny, but there was this guy earlier you were talking to? he was kinda tall, darker hair. and uh- anyway, you went to grab a drink and he seemed to be really funny i guess. you didn’t stop laughing the entire time you were talking and before you left he kissed your cheek.”

you thought about it for a second, trying to recall the interaction, before you let out something like a laugh.

“he’s from mexico, he told me it was a common thing there? i dunno. i’ve known him since i joined the protocol.” you said, smiling at him. “it’s nothing, but if you don’t like it i’ll tell him next time. i highly doubt there’s gonna be any hard feelings about it on his end. is that alright?”

he nodded, sending you a soft smile. his face had relaxed significantly in the past few minutes. "thank you, amor."

SOVA ━━━

he rarely gets jealous,, he thinks

he has a hard time exactly placing the emotion, and it’s mostly shrouded in protectiveness more than anything

he loves you, he knows you love him, and there is not a doubt that trickles into his mind

…..for the most part, anyway

there is the occasional time when that warmth spreads in his chest and the overwhelming urge to take you under his wing spawns, only to realize you aren’t in any danger

so why does he feel the need to protect you?

━━━━━━

sova had never had any ill-will toward phoenix. the two of them weren't particularly close, but they had worked and lived together for long enough that they were closer than one might expect.

maybe thats why sova agreed to play games with he and a few others the other night. they played stupid ice-breaker games, despite mostly having known each other for years. a few embarrassing stories of his friends' youth were shared, including the time jett ate brownies without knowing weed was baked in, and the time raze got caught sneaking out in her teens.

at some point, sova was asked who he had feelings for. it was the late hours of the night, and you had long since passed out on the couch next to him. he'll never figure out how you slept through the laughing and talking, but you did. without saying a word, sova had smiled softly and nodded over to you.

there were a few gasps, and then there was the laughing and cheering of a few others. phoenix held out his hand, to which jett passed him twenty bucks with a disgrunted face. evidently, they had had a bet about his feelings.

little did he know that telling them--phoenix, in particular--about his feelings toward you would go on to be one of the worst decisions he could have made.

ever since that night, phoenix had made it his goal to flirt with you as much as he possibly could when sova was around. he would send the russian a wink and a smile after every interaction with you, driving the stake deeper. though you thought he was just being friendly and joking around, the interactions never failed to spark a sick feeling in his gut.

and currently, he was almost at his limit.

he was normally fairly calm, but his patience with phoenix had been run thin over the past few weeks and the interaction between you two was getting a little too close for his comfort. not that he had some sort of claim over you; you weren't dating, so why did he have this feeling?

"could you hand me my water?" you asked from your spot on the couch. you gestured to the bottle of water placed in front of phoenix, who was sitting beside you.

he watched as phoenix took your hand and brought it gently up to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "anything for you, my love." his voice was dripping with sultry as he spoke.

in a few quick steps, sova got up and grabbed the bottle before phoenix could. he stepped around the coffee table and handed you the bottle, sending a glare over to phoenix when he stepped away. the other man raised his hands in mock defense and leaned back into the couch. with a sly smile, he positioned his arm around the back of the couch and pulled you into his side. you laughed, but didn't push away.

"ok, fine." sova finally spoke. he had been glaring daggers at you and phoenix for the better part of two hours, and you couldn't figure out why. "what the hell is it for, phoenix? why are you doing this?"

you leaned up from where you were leaned against the man in question. "doing what?"

phoenix smiled impossibly wider and leaned forward. "yeah, doing what?"

sova grumbled. he huffed and took a moment to collect himself. "leave, y/n." he looked at you and his eyes softened. "please."

despite the look he sent you, you weren't leaving. you crossed your arms in defiance and glared. phoenix's hand came up to rub your back.

"that!" sova finally spoke again. this wasn't how he wanted to confess to you, but so be it. "i told you weeks ago that i had feelings for y/n and you have since made it your life's mission to flirt with them. you don't have the same feelings for them, so why? what do you gain?"

phoenix, painfully calmly, got up and walked to the other side of the room. "for one, you finally confessed. don't have to deal with your 'longing gazes' anymore. secondly, jett now owes me twenty more bucks."

OMEN ━━━

omen would like to pride himself in the fact that he was rarely jealous.

insecure? sure. a little self-depreciating? of course.

but jealous just wasn’t him. as much as he was dissatisfied with himself, he had full trust in you.

however, that didn’t stop the rare inkling of a feeling that you truly would be better off with someone else, especially when they flirt, and even more so when you don’t notice

━━━━━━

one more time. that was all it was going to take.

just one more time for that guy to slide his hand up your arm, one more stupid joke to roll off of his tongue, one more laugh from you. omen knew he didn't exactly initiate physical touch all that often, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it. he would kill right now to have that be him, for you to be so close to him, for you to be laughing at his every word like you were laughing at that guy's.

he had told you that he would come with you to grab some supplies. a kingdom worker had been at the facility at the time, however, and the two of you seemed to be getting along perfectly well. to hell with the company you had asked from omen, he supposes.

and of course there it was again, his arm coming up to rest gently on your back as he guided you down another hallway. omen was a few steps behind the two of you, not that either one of you seemed to be paying him any mind.

fine. he could go back to his room.

his disappeared into a cloud of smoke, materializing again in the darkness of his own room. the events of the last thirty or so minutes replayed in his mind, a taunting loop of your smile as you looked at the man responsible for it. its not that he hated seeing you smile -- he loved it. but it was a different thing entirely when you smiled so big because of a man he could never be. maybe in another life, but not now.

the thoughts swirled in his head for what felt like hours. it was likely barely half an hour in reality, being that it took fifteen minutes alone to get up to his room from where the two of you had been before and likely another few to finish your work.

finally, a knock on the door of his room regained his attention.

"come in." he spoke, not looking away from the ceiling tile he'd been fixed on.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" you asked, clearly angry.

the phantom sat up, looking over to you incredulously. "what?"

"why the hell would you leave?"

"wasn't interested in watching him flirt with you." he was curt, as always.

"oh, yeah," you said dramatically. you were walking over to him now, standing in front of him. "because i was enjoying it so much. loved it even more when my boyfriend got tired and left me alone with him."

oh. that makes more sense than you blatantly hitting on him in front of your own boyfriend.

"really? sure seemed to find him so funny."

"because what am i supposed to do? tell him that he's not funny and to shut up?"

"you could have told him not to touch you."

"i did! and you didn't see me brushing his hand away and walking faster so he wouldn't rest his hand on my back? or were you too busy wallowing?"

the reality of this set in on him suddenly. he really had been too caught up in his own mind to realize what was happening. he had left you in an uncomfortable situation all because he was too stubborn to listen to what was actually happening.

"i'm sorry." he finally spoke.

"its okay," you sighed, and crawled your way into his bed. "i'll file a report or something later. we deserve a nap."

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torasplanet · 1 year ago

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❝𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙋𝙄𝘿 𝙎𝙇𝙐𝙏.ᐟ❞

BONTEN + BIMBO!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you didn't plan on showing your new tattoo to save your ass but this wouldn't have happened in the first place if you weren't being such a stupid slut in the club!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, gangbang/groupsex, rough sex, sloppy sex, degradation, praise sorta, p in v, oral (reader giving), handjobs, anal, like a lot of sex, voyeurism, belly-bulging, reverse cowgirl, dumbification, humiliation, recording, jealousy sex, reader wears makeup, petnames (baby, dollface, princess, etc), UNEDITED and skin color not mentioned

It wasn’t your fault. You just wanted to have fun at the club for once because finally, none of the Bonten members were looming over your shoulder like a hawk because they had ‘different’ business to attend to, well that’s what they told you. Still, you knew that just meant they were going to kill someone or something like that. It’s not exactly ‘okay’ to do that but you were kind of glad it was happening because usually, they didn’t even let you have more than three shots at the club; Haruchiyo sometimes snuck you one more or let you get a bit of his coke but that’s it and you weren’t able to actually go clubbing. Regardless of what you took, you still had to sit next to them wherever they went and by the slight chance that they’d allow you to, someone would go with you.

They were so protective that it was annoying. Couldn’t even talk to the bartender without Koko or Takeomi coming behind you draping their arm somewhere on your body and asking what you were doing. So of course you weren’t paying attention to shit when you were finally left alone.

As you danced with your friend, running your hands all over your body and smoothing down the fabric of your short dress to the rhythm of the music. Your tongue hanging out and everything with your eyes closed; you were lost in the moment. So lost that you didn’t realize your friend was no longer behind you and instead, there was a guy. And yes, you will admit that maybe you should have noticed this or at least looked back at your friend but it’s still not entirely your fault! If you leave your cat in front of a open door, they’re gonna leave without a second though so what did they expect you to do?

But when you heard your name getting called and saw Mikey and Rindou glaring at you hatefully, you realized that there’s a reason why cats are supposed to be kept inside. Well, you didn’t realize that immediately because at first, you just didn’t understand why they were all ignoring you. After all, they weren’t explaining anything…you hated it when they did that. They knew you weren’t the brightest so you spent practically the entire walk to the car, and when you got in the car, begging Mikey just to explain to you but he stayed silent. Barely spared you a glance and everyone else did the same.

You sat on Mikey’s side staring at him with a frown on your face just wanting him to pay you some attention and tell you what you did wrong. “Mikey, please…’m just confused.” You whined grabbing hold of his arm. You’d been begging the entire time and he hadn’t even said anything to you, only pushing you away. Hell, you even took off your heels to run after him and the rest of the guys on your way out of the club because they were ignoring you purposefully and walking fast as hell. Probably by the orders of Mikey.

Ran sighed and ran his nimble fingers through the multi-colored strands of his hair “Shut the hell up, god.” He said with a groan and Haruchiyo chuckled, his diamond-shaped scars on the sides of his mouth stretching.

“Can’t really expect her to be quiet can you? I mean baby girl just confused, ain’t you?” The pink-haired man said turning his attention to you and you nodded violently as Mikey pushed you away from him. You quickly hopped over to the green-eyed man who was welcoming you with open arms to sit on his lap while Takeomi grumbled about Haruchiyo’s sweet spot for you which was ridiculous for him to say.

If anything, Haruchiyo was the most sadistic out of them all. Shoving a gun down your throat and making you suck on it, inviting you into the execution room and making you shoot one of the traitors knowing how sensitive you were about that and that you were going to cry about the blood and how it splashed on you. He only did shit like this when everyone else was mad to piss them off even if he was just as mad. Kokonoi, Kakucho, and Rindou were the ones with the soft spots (any maybe Mikey just a bit) but that’s for another time…

“Haru, what did I do…? Tell me.” You asked into his ear whilst wrapping your arms around his neck, you really wanted someone to tell you what you did wrong so you could make up for it. Haruchiyo merely shrugged at you with a sick grin on his face, you turned your head to locate the heterochromatic-eyed male who was always sure to stick up for you when everyone else was being so mean. “Kaku…” You muttered standing up from Haruchiyo’s lap while he tried to get a glance under your dress. Kakucho merely sighed as you plopped down onto his lap looking at him with those wide teary eyes.

He felt bad, he really did but it was your turn to learn. Almost every punishment, he was there for you; kakucho always went soft on you and praised you but he couldn’t do that this time.

This wasn’t a just normal thing you did like annoying everyone, it was more than that and he was upset too. So he stayed silent. “Sorry pretty.” He muttered placing his hands on your hips. You opened your glossy lips to let out pleas and whines once again not even noticing the sound of the safety of a gun clicking off.

“Shut the fuck up,” Mikey said in an unnaturally soft tone interrupting whatever you were going to say. Your head turned to look at him to ask why he was being so mean but your eyes widened seeing his gun pointed right at you. Mikey’s finger was nowhere near the trigger but you didn’t look at small shit like that, you saw a gun in your face and you went quiet. It’s hard to keep talking when Bonten’s leader has a gun pointed at your forehead.

You stared at Mikey with your lips parted slightly in shock. Ran grinned in amusement at this as did Haruchiyo and Koko but everyone else had a straight face waiting for more to happen and wondering what you would do. Would you keep talking like a dumbass or shut up? It was always a surprise which one you’d choose. “Hopping from lap to lap asking what you did wrong like a stupid slut. If no one’s answering you that means we don’t want to hear your fucking mouth!” Mikey shouted making you flinch and shut your eyes.

“While we were doing our job, we got word that you’re in the club acting as if no one fucking owns you all over some fuckhead; so I had to stop our meeting mid-way because clearly, you have no fucking brain in there!” Mikey said with a frown decorating his face, he was clearly pissed off at you. More than anyone else and it made sense. You may have been Bonten’s whore but in the end, you were Mikey’s, you went home with him, and slept in the bed with him beyond sex so of course he was the most upset about it.

It didn’t matter what you had to say about the situation and thinking that it was your friend because it wasn’t making Mikey any less angry. It wasn’t making any of them less angry at you.

“But–” “Get the fuck over here.” Mikey interrupted you with a demand which you were hesitant to oblige to. You didn’t even get a chance to look at Kakucho or anyone for help because the Hitto man gently slapped your bottom before taking his hands away from your hips signaling you to listen to Mikey. You hesitantly stood to your feet and slowly walked over to the white-haired man with your hands balled up in fists. Mikey tilted the gun down in a direction for you to get on the ground and you nervously played with the hem of your dress.

Staring up at him with your mascara-coated lashes just waiting for him to give you a direction made him rock hard “I’m tired of hearing your excuses, you’re gonna stuff your mouth until I feel like hearing you. Understand?” Mikey asked. You were lucky really. Usually, when Mikey was this upset at you, he wouldn’t ask if you understood or not and just would’ve shoved your head down on his cock because you had no choice but to not understand. But you still had something to say.

Maybe if you told him about the new tattoo you got, he’d stop being so mad at you. You got the Bonten tattoo right on your pelvis and was just waiting for the moment to show them all; this was not the time you planned but it’d hopefully get them off your ass about this situation. You hooked your fingers on his boxers and pants, pulling them down slowly debating if he’d let you live long enough to even mention the tattoo once you opened your mouth. Blinking up at him ignoring the gun above your gaze, you grew nervous but still decided to speak “M-Mikey…I–” Mikey’s other hand came to the back of your head before shoving your open mouth down on his hard dick not letting you get another word out.

“Didn’t I tell you I was tired of hearing you?” Mikey said as tears burned in the back of your skull from his harshness, your acrylics dug into his pale thighs as you sat there on the floor of the limo under all their eyes. It was embarrassing and it made your panties drenched in your arousal. “She’s stupid, what’d you expect?” Koko said with a scoff as he typed something on his phone, hardly interested in what was happening because he wasn’t getting his dick wet.

Ran leaned against the back of his hand staring at Koko “Boss said he didn’t wanna hear her whining, think you should shut up too.” He said and the long-haired male rolled his eyes muttering ‘Whatever’ and then he began to type harder on his phone before turning it off and putting it in his life. Sheer seconds later, Ran’s phone notification went off making the male’s grin extend but he stayed quiet. “We need to do something about Misaki.” Mikey started to lower his gun as he spoke before discarding it on the seat beside him letting you relax a bit but you didn’t dare take your mouth off his cock. He’d be upset if you stopped sucking.

No one said anything and just waited for him to continue “Sanzu, Takeomi, you’re going to keep track of him and all his guys.” Mikey said with a small grunt and Haruchiyo’s face twisted into one of confusion and anger.

“Why the hell do I have to go with the old man!? That’s what Mochi’s for.”

“Believe me, I’m not exactly joyful to go with you either.”

Ran laughed at their banter before his gaze traveled to you “Well, if you haven’t noticed, Mochi is taking care of that animal back at the club because little miss slut…” He places the bottom of his incredibly expensive shoe on the back of your head making a whimper come from your mouth “Wanted to get her princess parts touched…” Ran ended with a mocking tone almost talking in a baby-ish voice whilst pressing his foot down harder on your head. You gagged around the shorter male’s cock as tears slowly came down your face.

You hadn’t even noticed Mochi was missing because of how busy you were trying to find out what you did wrong and even apologizing despite not knowing what you did.

You just didn’t want them to be upset but it seemed your attempt at that just made them more angry at you “Ugh, should’ve let me do it. I’d make that fucker suffer.” The mullet-haired man said leaning back against his seat and grabbing the cigarette from Rindou’s hand “You get too messy.” Mikey stated simply glancing down at you as you continued to look up at him but when his dark and gloomy eyes met yours, your eyes dropped immediately “Oh like you’re not gonna make her a mess.” Haruchiyo replied and grinned at his boss with narrowed eyes.

Mikey didn’t reply and only looked down at you once again and you did the same thing as before. He didn’t like that at all.

He knew you wanted something from him or more like you needed to tell him something but for some reason, you didn’t. You never made eye contact with him when you were keeping something from him “Stop looking at me like that. Talk.” Mikey said planting his hand on your forehead before pushing you off his dick harsher than he intended making you fall back on your elbows.

You coughed lightly while wiping the small tears that hadn’t yet dared to mess up your makeup. “I-I…I wanted to show you something.” You said nervously as you shifted onto your knees grabbing at the hem of your dress and trying to gather up the confidence to look at him in his eyes, you knew how he hated it when you didn’t look at him when he talked to you and he was getting a bit upset with how often you were looking away from him.

Mikey lifted his hand off his knee gesturing for you to do what you wanted. You slowly stood to your feet in front of Mikey, his knees on either side of your body leaving a bit of space between himself and you. Mikey watched as you lifted your dress just below your boobs and his eyes immediately caught the tattoo on your pelvis that dipped into your panties. It was the Bonten tattoo with the only difference being the dot in the middle was a heart, he ran his thumb over the tattoo and pulled the waistline of your thong down just a bit so he could see the full inked skin. “…Wanted to make it cute.” You said with a smile forming on your lips at his reaction.

Mikey continued to stare at the tattoo in awe running his fingers over it to see if it was real and wouldn’t wipe off “It is cute baby.” His voice was softer than before as his eyes flickered up to yours, his hands went to your hips “Think you should show everyone else.” The Sano man didn't give you any time to react or protest (though you wouldn’t have) before he turned you around making your bare torso visible to everyone.

“Holy shit…” “Fuck pretty you’re so hot.” “Cute.” “C’mere dollface.” The compliments from the men made you grin wider, almost giggling at all of the attention. Koko then grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you out of Mikey’s arms and toward him before he began to rub his fingertips over the tattoo “You pay for this yourself love?” The long-haired male asked not looking up at you, you merely shook your head with a negative hum “Used your card.” A smile stretched across Koko’s mouth at your words before he pressed a small wet kiss to your pelvis on the ink “Good.” Rindou then reached over and grabbed your other arm, pulling you over to him and into his lap before you could respond to Koko.

His palm was placed directly onto the tattoo as he chuckled in your ear with Haruchiyo and Ran on either side of him chuckling as well “Gonna have fun with this, that’s for sure.” Ran said and Haruchiyo nodded in agreement with a devilish grin on his face, Rindou’s hand slowly drifted into your thong with his fingers trailing down to your clit “This why you wanted to be ass up so bad the other day?” Rindou asked tilting his head, his lips ghosting over yours and of course, when you went to connect them, he pulled away.

As nice as rindou was compared to those monsters, Takeomi, Haruchiyo, and Ran, he could be just as mean well…not exactly as mean.

Haruchiyo’s hand grabbed your chin harshly and he turned your attention toward him “Gotta let me eat this pussy baby…” He said licking his lips and once again, before you could even say anything, you were interrupted. “Who says you get to have ‘er first?” Ran said with a scoff as he put his hand on your leg, it was only adding to the small bit of pleasure his brother was giving to you by circling your clit. Takeomi scoffed as Kakucho just shook his head “She needs someone soft first. You guys will tear her in half.” The scarred-face man said folding his arms across his chest but his words only earned more noises of disapproval.

“Oh please! You’ll end up coddling her anyway.”

“Dollface loves getting split in half right?”

“You’re a bunch of selfish fucks.”

“And you’re not? Don’t act like you didn’t keep her to yourself all day yesterday Koko.”

As the men began to argue, you felt yourself being torn from Rindou’s lap and it seemed no one noticed.

You looked behind you to see the culprit of the action, Mikey. You gave him a small smile as you sat down on his lap but he didn’t return it and just continued to stare at you with his tired eyes “Take them off.” You weren’t really smart but you didn’t have to know rocket science to know what he was referring to. Nervously glancing at the men who were raising their voices at each other fighting over who got to use you first and then back at Mikey who was, surprisingly, waiting patiently. You began to pull the panties from your hips and let them drop to your ankles before stepping out of them staring at the damp spot in them as they lay on the floor useless as they always were.

You went to turn around to face Mikey but he stopped you “Look at them and be quiet.” And you did as you sat back down on his lap but this time, you felt his cock sliding inside of your slick hole making you shiver. You let out the smallest moan but it gained the attention of most people in the room, the people who didn’t hear only looked at you because everyone else went silent and turned to you. “Didn’t I say be quiet? Can’t listen for anything…” The short-haired male whispered in your ear while he held onto your hips.

“Oh shit look,” Ran said pointing at the bulge in your tummy that happened to be angled right where the tattoo was, making it poke out. “Fuck…are you gonna have her all to yourself, Mikey? Shit’s not fair.” Takeomi said letting out a low hiss and Haruchiyo nodded in agreement “Yeah, you told–” “She gotta get her present before her punishment.” Mikey said interrupting the long-haired male as he put his chin on your shoulder to look at you with his dead eyes. You glanced at him nervously, you thought that this would make him less mad at you and stop this ‘punishment’ but I guess not. “Well…shouldn’t that be the other way around?” You asked putting a manicured finger on your lip.

Mikey hummed raising his voice a few octaves to mock you “Well…you’re taking it this way.” His voice returned to normal halfway through his sentence “And stay quiet, we’re still talking. Now get moving, I’ll help after.” Mikey demanded slapping your leg and earning a whine from you but you nodded in agreement before beginning to move slowly with your lips glued shut not trying to let out any noises as all eyes were locked on you. When Mikey cleared his throat, their gaze focused past your form.

Your hands grabbed at Mikey’s skinny thighs as a support line as you heard him open his mouth to speak “Sanzu, Takeomi, I expect you to be professional about this. Do not have a repeat of last time.” It was ridiculous how he could speak so calmly when he was stretching you out. You felt like you were getting torn in half from the way his girthy cock was bullied into your…

It was too hard for you to move when he was stuffed inside of you like this but you kept trying, Mikey would never help you get what you wanted if you didn’t do it by yourself for a bit. That’s something about Mikey you hated! It didn’t matter if he was rewarding you or doing the opposite because he’d make you work for it just for a while until he took over; Mikey didn’t believe in that pillow princess shit, if you wanted something, you were going to work for it but maybe if he was in an extraordinarily good mood…the most he’d do is make you tell him what you wanted in LOTS of detail.

“Yeah, Yeah, I won’t shoot him or anything,” Haruchiyo said folding his arms across his chest with a sigh of annoyance but when he caught the sight of you resisting the strong urge to moan made him grin. He didn’t give a damn about going with Takeomi because of what you did at the club because he still gets to have you every day and see you in that state every time and Kakucho nor Koko could complain about how mean he was being because…well, you deserved it this time.

Haruchiyo looked at you like he wanted to do what Mikey wasn’t: Fuck your brains out and you wanted him too. It didn’t matter if it was him honestly, you just wanted to be taken care of…was that too much to ask? “Haru’...” You mewled looking at Haruchiyo through the mascara-coated lashes that you batted at him in hopes he’d give you what you wanted before Mikey could condemn you for talking. It’s best not to get your hopes up when it comes to him especially because all he did was laugh at you and grab his phone. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?” The sano man asked you as your makeup started to smear with you knuckling away the tears in your eyes. Haru was ignoring you and starting to record you in such a vulnerable and pitiful state.

“Yes but–” “Then shut up, it’s as simple as that,” Mikey said interrupting you once again and making it clear that he did not want to hear any of your excuses but you needed him too! It wasn’t fair that he had you sobbing like this while Haruchiyo was busy recording it. He never posted them but he did send them, especially to the guys who had the confidence to text you or give you their number with a text about how you were busy and it was so embarrassing. Haruchiyo just loved to humiliate you even when you were getting a reward. You could only imagine what he would do when it was time for you to be reprimanded.

Haruchiyo turned to Rindou and bumped him with his elbow “Put ‘em in her mouth.” He said gesturing to the thong on the floor and Rindou grinned before leaning down to grab the undergarments. The long-haired brother reached over grabbing your jaw with his hand “Open wide sweetie.” You did as he asked opening your mouth but you were barely able to open it wider before he stuffed them inside of your mouth silencing the pathetic whimpers that were an attempt to get him to pity you so maybe your punishment after this wouldn’t be so bad. You saw that it worked on him a bit but not enough for him to say anything.

“Since you can’t do anything on your own, I guess I’ll just give you what you want,” Mikey said running his hand up your thigh, dragging his fingertips over the tattoo to your scrunched-up dress before snaking his hand under the fabric. His fingers wrapped around your tit squeezing it lazily as he began to man spread forcibly spreading your legs for everyone to see what was between them. His other hand grabbed your hip before bringing you up and slamming you back down on his cock making you whine behind the fabric as hot tears ran down your face messing up your mascara. The black droplets of tears stained your pretty face as Mikey forced you up and down his cock.

You heard his grunts from behind you before they went quiet with his deep breath “I meant what I said. I don’t want no fucking shoot-outs.” Mikey said to the other men in the car. It seemed like you should have stopped at the hideout by now…wait, was the car even moving? You hadn’t even noticed if it had stopped. “Got it.” The voice was familiar but you couldn’t tie an exact face to it. Your eyes were squeezed shut and you were losing yourself in your pleasure already. Haruchiyo was probably having the best time of his life watching you fall apart in Mikey’s grasp and getting it on record.

“Do you? Last time you said that and I had to take funds out of the Bonten portion to pay off the cops because you are an idiot!” That was easily recognizable as Koko’s annoyed voice. Your eyes opened at the feeling of fingers grazing your chin and you were met with the camera of a phone. Your eyes trailed down to see the Sanzu man on his knees grinning up at you, his diamond-shaped scars stretching on the ends of his lips “Uhm, hello? I’m talking to you.” Koko said looking at the pink-haired man annoyed glaring at him whilst the man ignored him and just focused on capturing all of your whining excellence.

Haruchiyo clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth “I don’t give a shit. Pretty girl’s more important than anything you’re talking about.” He said dragging his fingertips over your skin making you shiver into him and Mikey’s touch. You whimpered through the fabric that was dampening from your drool. Koko didn’t respond and only rolled his eyes before relaxing further in his seat to add to the other eyes concentrated on you.

Mikey’s hand ran all over your body “Gonna cum?” He asked lowly in your ear with that baby-talk voice he and everyone else used to mock you but you didn’t care; you only nodded dumbly in response “Uh-huh! Uh-huh!” You screamed and your mumbles were loud enough to be understood by everyone. You began to bounce on your own chasing your orgasm, the back of your thighs slapped loudly against Mikey’s which were much skinner than yours “Yeah?” Mikey asked as Haruchiyo grabbed your panties from your mouth before forcing you to look down at him and not just at the camera.

“Feel so-oh good! Want more!” You moaned loudly glad that your cries were finally being heard. Haruchiyo’s smile widened evilly at your words as he lowered the camera down to take in how you sucked in Mikey with ease “Don’t worry, we’re gonna give you what you want.” Obviously, you didn’t think much of these words. It’s not like you thought much but he was telling you about giving you what you wanted…and that’s all you cared about.

You moaned louder, your sounds becoming more high-pitched as you grew closer to the edge “Cummin’! ‘M cumming!” You squirted all over Mikey’s cock triggering his own orgasm that was unwarranted. You gasped in shock at the warm feeling of him filling you that you were so used to, you felt yourself slipping from not only your thoughts but Mikey’s hands. Mikey didn’t catch you when you began to fall forward and neither did Haruchiyo but Koko (being the closest to you other than those two) did.

You blinked up at the white-haired man with a blissed-out look on your dirtied face with small sobs escaping your lips that were in a pout. He didn’t say anything and allowed you to climb onto him; when you landed in his lap, your cunt leaking all over his expensive clothes, your arms immediately found their place around his neck “Aw…so sensitive.” Koko said teasingly when you spazzed into his body at the feeling of his hand just grazing over your clit.

“Don’t get too comfortable over there.” Your head turned at the voice and you saw all the eyes that were staring at you now with a hungry look in their eyes like you were their prey. You were and you have learned to accept it but it never failed to make you quake. They were not done with you whatsoever.

“Ah, ran that hurts…” You muttered gripping Mikey’s shoulders tightly as Ran pushed inside your second hole but you couldn’t even do that because Haruchiyo grabbed your hand and Koko grabbed your other so the only support you had was Mikey’s hands on your hips. It was a small burning pain but the pleasure from…everything overtook it by a lot. Whimpers left your messy lips as they manhandled you not caring that Mikey was still inside of you and you were moving all around him. They treated you like you were nothing but a toy for them, yet you found yourself growing wetter at their actions.

Your fingers wrapped around Haruchiyo’s cock with your other hand doing the same thing to Koko “Ah, you’ve taken it here before. You’ll be fine.” The eldest haitani brother responded to you with his hands creating hand-shaped bruises on your hips. Kakucho, who sat closer than before with his cock in his hand, rolled his eyes at Ran’s harsh treatment of you “Could have at least lubed her up, I see why she comes to me all sore.” Kakucho said which only earned chuckles from the other men in the room. You couldn’t even begin to respond to him, you could barely form anything other than moans and whines from how you were being used and pulled in every direction.

Despite this mindset, you saw Rindou stalking over from the side of your eye and your attention turned to him. He sat down in front of you on the seat as you along with Ran and Mikey, who were buried deep into your holes, sat on the floor “Keep your mouth open pretty.” Rindou said beginning to slide his slacks down to pool at his ankles, you did as he asked and opened your mouth wide and it wasn’t long before he shoved himself into your mouth muting your mewls “Tch. Why do I always get left out?” Takeomi questioned taking in the sight of you being stuffed in all holes possible.

Haruchiyo threw his head back as you moved your hand up and down his shaft, his pre spilling all over your hand and your long nails. He tilted his head back to look back at the older man “‘Cos it’s playtime and you’re too old for that.” The mullet-haired man said with a laugh triggering another mini argument between the two of them which no one paid attention to but at least it distracted him from recording you. “So pretty. This color looks so nice wrapped around my dick.” Koko complimented as he slicked his hair back to prevent it from sticking to his forehead which was growing wet with sweat. Koko was so glad he got to pick the color of your nails this time, his pleasure felt so much better knowing that especially because he picked it specifically because of how beautiful it looked around his dick.

You tried to thank him for the compliment but you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of Mikey taking in your nipple in the wet cavern of his mouth; not like he’d be able to hear it anyway…

Mikey took full advantage of your tits being shoved in his face because you attempted to reach Rindou as you sucked him off. Ran groaned as he threw his head back while he continued his strokes deep inside of you “Fuck keep doing thing, she likes that, yeah?” Ran said with his hand snaking around to lie on the moving bulge in your tummy that was right under that tattoo, he’d be sure to pay some extra attention to that later. You weren’t even able to nod because Rindou had a tight hold on your hair as he practically fucked himself down your throat.

“Mmph!” Mikey’s cold hands groped your other tit as the other rested on the fat of your ass, you felt him smile at your muffled moans as he continued to fuck up into your sloppy cunt. Your body shuddered as his mushroom tip grazed over your g-spot “Oh fuck–ngh…pretty, you’re doing so–fucking–good.” Rindou moaned bucking his hips into your mouth slightly, you glanced up at him with teary eyes as makeup continued to run down your face showing your pathetic and slutty state.

Your stomach tightened and your legs nearly clenched together if it wasn’t for Mikey sitting between them as you felt your orgasm coming. “Gonna cum? Yeah?” Mikey said taking his mouth away from your nipple as he grunted at the feeling of you squeezing around him, he had to hold himself back; he had an issue with cumming as soon as you do just because of the feeling. “Mhm! Yeah, Yeah!” You shouted as Rindou yanked your head away from his cock as he began to jerk himself off for a few seconds until he came all over your face only adding to the mess “Ugh! C-Cummin’!” Koko laughed at your sputtering while you bounced up and down on Mikey to work yourself through your orgasm.

“You always cum so easy, don’t you beauty?” Koko asked with a teasing laugh.

You didn’t even respond and just murmured as you kept rocking back and forth because of Ran’s thrusts, he wasn’t letting up until he came and you couldn’t feel it coming yet. “Says you, every time we share ‘er, you cum within seconds.” Haruchiyo added looking back at the white-haired man who breathed heavily “You’re boutta cum right now, aren’t you?” He added making Koko grunt in annoyance, he placed his hand onto yours as you continued to jerk him off.

“Ugh, if you wanna kiss me just say that.” Koko responded with a roll of his eyes and Haruchiyo’s grin widened.

“If you cum easily like a virgin, just say that.”

“I don’t!”

“Prove it.”

“Shut the hell up, nobody wants to hear you,” Rindou said with a raspy voice as he scooted away from his place on the seat. Dragging himself over to a farther seat to sit there and relax, rindou glared at his co-workers who looked at him and then at each other. Haruchiyo didn’t say anything but his look seemed as if he was challenging Koko and the other man accepted.

Your skin burned at the feeling of Ran’s long fingers digging into your skin as you breathed heavily slumped over onto Mikey’s shoulder. Ran leaned forward and kissed all over your shoulders while his hips continued to snap into your ass faster than before “Gonna give you two loads, ‘kay baby?” Mikey said pushing you off his body so he could look at you, his eyes narrowed at you when you didn’t respond and just mewled while sniffling and it made more globs of tears spew from your eyes as you nodded.

“C’mon love, use your words…taught you better,” Kakucho said as he slid into the empty space that Rindou had currently sat in. “Okay Mikey…” You said glancing up at Kakucho. He always tried his hardest to keep you out of trouble, even if you deserved it. Kakucho’s hand was placed on your head as to congratulate you for being good.

“Fuck, I’m cumming right now,” Ran grumbled as he pounded into your tighter hole harder making you yelp and your back arch. Your arms wrapped around Mikey’s head as you cuddled closer to him, your legs were numb by now but you felt them quake as Ran filled you to the brim and soon Mikey followed. So that’s what he meant by two loads…

Your tongue lolled out at the feeling of being filled up completely while you breathed heavily but your comfort didn't last long because your hands were snatched back and placed back on the cocks you took them away from “Stop playin’ dollface, we’re tryna have a competition here.” Haruchiyo said as he moved your hand around his dick again while Koko tried to resist cumming, he couldn’t let Haruchiyo win another fucking bet. “Sor–ah!” You couldn’t count how many times you’ve been cut off this night from saying anything.

You gave Koko an apologetic look as you winced at the feeling of Ran’s touch leaving your skin after pulling out. That’s what did it to him, there’s no way he can hold back when you’re looking at him like that…so Koko let go and allowed himself to cum all inside of the palm of your hand. You gasped and looked down at your soiled hand as your fingers unwrapped from him. Staring at his burning red tip that was twitching, you smiled a bit before looking back at him “Looks like you lost pretty boy.” Haruchiyo said grunting. You had completely forgotten he was there. “Shut up,” Koko said joining Ran and Rindou who were busy tucking themselves back in and coming down from their high.

Your head turned as you brought your hand to your lips gently licking Koko’s mess from your hand “Hm, haitani already ruined your face…” Haruchiyo said as you glanced up at his phone that was lazily held in his hand, you weren’t even sure if the camera was taking in your filthy form. You wondered what Haruchiyo was going to do next but your thoughts were ripped away when your hand was brought away from your mouth to wrap around yet another cock making you whine. Your arms were almost as sore as your throat, you were getting extremely tired…

“Don’t act all tired now. You can rest all you want after.” Takeomi said with his gruff voice as you began to lazily move your hand around his cock, rubbing your thumb over his tip to tease him a bit. Before you even got to say anything, you felt warm ropes of Haruchiyo’s cum not only landing on the side of your face but in your hair. “Mikey! Haru made a mess in my hair…I paid so much to get it done…” You complained looking at your boyfriend(ish) not paying attention to Ran commenting how he actually paid.

See, Mikey didn’t really give a shit that your hair got fucked up or any of that shit because it was supposed to be a punishment. However…he did not want to deal with you whining to him the whole time after this about your hair, you were already going to be upset about your makeup and your underwear that had been torn to shreds by now and he really did not want to hear this. He never heard the end of it when some of his cum accidentally landed on your hair when he was giving you backshots. “Get away,” Mikey said to Haruchiyo as you wrapped your arms around his neck looking up at Kakucho who looked at you sympathetically.

“Come on Mikey, I’ll buy her a new one or whatever,” Haruchiyo said a tad bit annoyed that he was getting scolded over this. You weren’t really focused on Haruchiyo anymore or what Mikey was telling him, only on Kakucho now that you were facing him and you had discovered that he had been jerking himself off. Well, he wasn’t anymore but he was.

Kakucho’s unused hand went to your head and he pulled apart strands of your hair to see if it was as bad as you thought it was “It’s really bad, right…?” You asked to sniffle and Kakucho grimaced at the sight of Haruchiyo’s seed on the side of your head but he still tried his best to get it out regardless of his disgust “Not that bad. I can help wash it out.” Kakucho told you with a sweet voice. That’s what you liked so much about Kakucho…he was so nice to you no matter what you did wrong.

And you’d never say it aloud because of how jealous most of them would get but Kakucho would be the first person you’d run to in a situation when you know you did something wrong. He was always just so nice to you…he deserved a lot for being such a sweetie all the time! “Thank you…” You muttered as your hand that was free of Koko’s mess trailed up Kakucho’s leg and grabbed him making him stiffen. “Oh, that’s bullshit. How come we have to sit out but Scarface over there still gets his?” Haruchiyo asked with a frown ignoring how Takeomi was glaring daggers into the side of his head. You felt the need to mention how most people in Bonten had scars on their faces but you made your first smart decision not to. They’d probably get offended…

“He’s nice to me.” You said glancing back at the pink-haired man as Mikey sat below you silently, leaning his temple against your bare side. Your whines of sadness instead of pleasure had brought out that soft spot in him and he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. “Sweetie, I don’t give a fuck about that nice shit,” Haruchiyo said rolling his eyes as he snatched whatever Rindou was lighting up. You merely huffed and looked back at Kakucho who stared down at you in all of your glory.

He observed how your body would jolt and the little noises that would leave your throat ever so often maybe because of the lingering pleasure or Mikey moving in the slightest. Either way, your blessed-out expression was so cute, especially with that pout of anger. “Well, I do.” You muttered before beginning to move your hand up and down on Kakucho’s cock while resting your cheek on the top of Mikey’s head.

“O-Oh shit…” Kakucho mewled as he watched as you took him in your mouth, your hand remained around the length that you could not take in. His back arched just slightly at the vibrations that your whines and groans sent to his dick that rose to the pit of his stomach where his orgasm formed. “Mmpfh…” You said lowly as you rocked back and forth to grind on Mikey which just made him even more impatient to get his way with you. He needed Kakucho to hurry and finish.

Kakucho’s large hand found its way to the nape of your neck just resting there as he moaned breathlessly. He resisted the urge to fuck your face because he didn’t really want to but it was just so good that he couldn’t help but crave more. That feeling in the pit of his stomach grew so large that he could barely keep his eyes open anymore but he tried to, he wanted to see those eyes that stared up at him so teary and wet. So beautiful.

He could see how Koko came so easily just from how you looked at him. His ring-clad fingers traveled from the back of your neck to the back of your hair. Running his fingers through the clean strands and gently pulling at it “You’re going so good…shit oh my–” Kakucho’s words were cut off when he came without warning into your mouth making you choke just a bit. Taking him out of your mouth, you stuck your tongue out as you lightly coughed and he gawked at the sight.

Mikey’s hand went from roaming around your back and grasping your hips “You done with her?” The tired male asked in his usual raspy voice and Kakucho confirmed that he was with a puffed-out response. Within a few seconds of Kakucho’s response, Mikey had you on your back on the floor of the car and you grew a bit embarrassed at the eyes on you. They were always there, staring but instead of feeling their gazes, you could actually see them.

The roughness of his fingertips pressing against your love handles made you squirm as you babbled about how he was being so rough. “You know who you belong to, correct?” Mikey asks as he begins to move inside of you with slow strokes. His hands trailed down to your thighs and found their place on the back of them “Uhm, y-yeah…” You replied trying not to moan so you could at least answer him properly. Mikey pushed your thighs up so that they met your chest as he continued to stare at you “So why act like you don’t?” He continued to ask as you groaned at the new angle.

Only babbles left your lips as you insisted that you didn’t act like that and that’s why you got the tattoo but it seemed that no one was buying it. “I mean you were all over that…ugh. So clearly you don’t.” Koko said shrugging his shoulders and you only whined at his words. “How many times do we have to teach you? We know you’re a little dense but you’d think you would learn by now.” Mikey said bluntly watching as you arched your back at the little pleasure he was giving you.

“Mikey…p-please jus-just want more.” You babbled to him as hot tears streamed down your face. Haruchiyo smacked his tongue across the roof of his mouth. This was supposed to be a punishment for you but you were too much of a cockwhore to not want more of what you were given. Haruchiyo had so many more methods for putting you in your place but apparently, he was ‘too harsh’.

Mikey blinked at you and leaned closer to you only getting deeper into your warmth. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear as you waited patiently for him to talk “You’re lucky if I ever let you go out with those fucking friends of yours again, understand?” He whispered to you and you nodded immediately not thinking much of it. “Great then don’t fucking complain later.” The short-haired male said narrowing his eyes at you.

The sano didn’t waste any time to begin thrusting harshly inside of you. The prominent veins on the sides of his cock rubbed against your fleshy walls that were already soaked with his seed “Ugh! F-Feel so g-go–ood!” You shouted dragging out your sentences as you moaned loudly. Your arms wrapped around Mikey’s neck and you clawed at the back of his shirt while trying to contain yourself. Your body moved up and down and even though your eyes were squeezed shut, you could practically see the smirks on the haitani brother’s faces at the sight of your tits bouncing.

They were also probably smiling at the noises that came from Mikey’s cock leaving and entering your soaked cunt. The sounds were so filthy and so wet, it was like music to their ears. One of Mikey’s hands found its place right back on top of your tattoo and he groaned loudly throwing his head back at the feeling of his cock poking through your skin and rubbing against his palm.

Your walls tightened around him as you felt yourself nearing the edge. “Hold it, I want you to cum with me,” Mikey told you. “No! I-I can’t…” You shouted out as you brought him down to be closer to you. “If you cum before I tell you to, I swear to god you won’t cum for a month.” Mikey threatened making your skin run cold. Mikey was so mean to you sometimes…it wasn’t nice at all!

“I’m s-sorry! Ngh…I won’t–fuck–go with another guy e…ever!” You were barely able to get out a clear sentence as you felt Mikey hit your G-spot. You couldn’t hold it in for long, it just felt so good that you needed to cum now. “Tch. If you can even call it that.” Rindou snickered not taking his eyes off how you couldn’t even close your mouth with how many moans were continuously emptying from your lips.

Mikey put his face in your neck as his hips sped up, undoubtedly to discolor under the pressure of hitting your thighs. He breathed heavily into your neck occasionally letting out groans with how you pulsed around him eager to cum under his touch and only add to the cum ring that formed around the base of his dick.

He groaned at the feeling of you sucking him deeper than he could possibly imagine. It always happened. No matter how much he thought he couldn’t get deeper inside of you, he did. Mikey loved the feeling of your plush walls hugging his cock tightly and he loved it more when you let out sobs and purrs expressing how much you loved it when he fucked you like that. It only turned him on more.

“Now.” He commanded and just as he pleased, you both came together with your moans swirling with his beautifully. Your back only arched off the floor more at the feeling of him stuffing you full of his cum once again “Uhn…so full.” Your eyes closed as you relaxed against the floor and Mikey’s harsh press of your thighs to your rest softened. Mikey pulled out making you gently wince and peek your eyes open.

The short man sat on the seat of the car before he began to pick you up so you could sit next to him. Mikey stared at you for a moment taking in how pretty you looked with a tear and cum-stained face with small touches of ruined makeup here and there before he went to get your dress from one of the executives. He smiled a the sight of you knowing that he couldn’t stay mad at you for long and of course, you had to make him smile just a bit more with your words and girlish giggles that adorned it. “Nice butt.”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #bonten x reader #bonten smut #◛⑅·˚♡ran hehe #◛⑅·˚♡haruu~#◛⑅·˚rinnie!!#◛⑅·˚kakuu #◛⑅·˚♡koko !!#◛⑅·˚mikey baby #mikey x reader smut #mikey x reader #idk what else to tag #this took way too long

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 8 months ago

Text

Ways To Say : I Love You

Word Count : 6.6k

Warnings : swearing, brief sexual content (like maybe 2 sentences), food, workout, brief mention of blood (nose bleed), maybe slight angst but not really, tried my best to make it gender neutral but mentions of makeup and manicures/pedicures

Synopsis : Best friend Ateez realizing they're falling in love with you and the different ways they show it.

Seonghwa

Wants to build Lego with you

He used to enjoy building Lego alone, on live with Atiny, and the odd time with San. But as he realizes he’s falling for you, he wants to share one of his favourite activities with you. He wants to share everything with you.

Seonghwa would take time to set everything up perfectly before you came over. Drinks and snacks set up along with the Lego sets he bought specifically for this occasion. One for him and one for you. Though he would never admit to it, he bought this specific Lego set for you because it reminded him of you the second he saw it.

He even sat down each of the members and told them to leave the two of you alone, though that didn’t happen. They each took turns interrupting your time together for one reason or another. You never noticed the scowl on Seonghwa’s face whenever they came in because every time you looked at him, he was smiling. It was hard for him to stay mad when you were around.

Spa days

The idea came to him when you were complaining about your skin, wishing it looked as smooth as his. He called you over on one of his days off and ushered you into the bathroom. You were confused but it was Seonghwa, so you allowed him to do whatever it was.

He had bought you all the same products he uses and went through his routine with you. If he was paying attention, he would have seen the pure adoration pouring out of your eyes as you looked at him. It was a passing complaint you made that you didn’t realize he took note of, and it melted your heart realizing how much attention he pays you.

Spa days became a regular thing between the two of you. And Seonghwa would continue to get more and more elaborate with them. Buying new face masks to try, getting manicure sets so you could do each other’s nails, and even getting the fluffy white robes to complete it all.

Now he has an entire photo album on his phone dedicated to pictures of the two of you with different face masks on. He scrolls through them when he misses you.

Shopping together

Shopping with you has honestly become one of his all time favourite things to do. He loves spoiling you, even though you always fight him on it, telling him you can pay for your own clothes. He’d never tell you, but he loves seeing you in the outfits that he not only picked out but also paid for. It’s like the possessive side of him comes out seeing you dressed head to toe in something he bought for you.

He also loves watching you put together outfits for him. You try to match his fashion sense, but even if you didn’t, he would wear every single outfit, because you picked it out. He walks out of the change rooms with a wide smile in every outfit, and always ends up buying every single one, even the ones you made just for fun.

Today you notice Seonghwa seems a little off as he flicks through the different articles of clothing, but you chalk it up to exhaustion. And then he turns to you, holding up two outfits that are very similar, and you cock your head to the side asking who they’re for. His voice his soft when he answers, “Couple outfits. For us.” He was smiling nervously as he waited for your answer. But there really was only one answer to give, because how could you not fall in love with Park Seonghwa?

Bonus

“I can’t believe that fucking worked!” Jongho exclaimed when he saw the two of you enter the dorms in the matching outfits. You and Seonghwa just shrugged and smiled at each other before heading into his room. He had everything set up for your usual spa day, except this time you asked him to put the face mask on for you.

He sat you on the bathroom counter and stood in between your legs as he carefully put the mask on your face. He stole a quick kiss and then asked you to put his mask on him.

Hongjoong

Lets you choose his nail polish colour

Everyone else knew about his feelings for you before he did. They would watch as he looked at you with a certain fondness in his eyes he didn’t have for anyone else. He even left the studio more often so he could spend more time with you. But none of it made it click for him until you were looking through his nail polishes and asked if you could choose the next colour.

He agreed immediately, absolutely zero hesitation. Oh. OH. Oh fuck. But when he looked over at you, seeing you holding up a bottle of nail polish with a wide smile, everything felt okay. It felt better than okay. And he suddenly had a new favourite colour. Though his favourite colour seemed to change every week, matching whichever colour you picked out for him.

He would think of you every time he looked down at his painted nail. When he missed you, or was nervous, he would look down at his nail, and picture you with that same wide smile, and everything would feel okay again.

Sneaks candid pictures of you

Hongjoong loves taking pictures wherever he goes. He loves preserving the memories. Loves looking back through them and remembering the places he’s been, the people he’s met. But the more he falls for you, the more pictures he takes of you.

When you’re sleeping, eating, laughing, existing. If the two of you are out and about, he snaps a couple pictures of the scenery, but most of the pictures he takes are of you. Enjoying the view, or just standing there. No matter what, you look perfect to him, and he can’t help but take a million pictures trying to capture your beauty.

He has an entire album on his phone dedicated to pictures of just you. The members teased him about it when they found out about it, telling him he was down horrendous. He absolutely was, and he really didn’t mind.

His camera has even more pictures of you. Enough for multiple exhibits of just you. Wooyoung told him he should rent out a building and put on an exhibit just for you as his confession. And he hates that he entertained that thought for a couple days. Going as far as calling a couple different places to see how much it would cost to rent it out for a day. But then the possibility that you might find it weird or creepy crossed his mind, and he canceled everything.

Shows you every new song first

Hongjoong calling you in the middle of the night to show you a new song became your new normal. The first couple times you were angry. But then you realized how special it was to be the first to hear every new song. And he started having your favourite coffee ready for you when you arrived, and you started loving these moments.

He seemed nervous when he called this time. More nervous than normal. But you weren’t sure if you were making it up in your sleepy state or not. Hongjoong was usually nervous when showing you a new song, wanting your honest opinion, even if it meant you hated it. You never did. He really is a musical genius.

You sit in your usual spot, a cup of coffee immediately being slid into your hands. “I want you to pay extra attention to the lyrics of this one.” He could barely meet your eyes, but you ignored it, nodding and preparing yourself for the song.

You quickly realized that he was confessing his love in this song, and felt your heart sink a little. Part of you hoped your feelings weren’t one sided, but it seems like that’s the case. But you tried to keep the smile on your face so he wouldn’t think you hated the song, or worse, catch onto your feelings. But he saw the split second of sadness on your face and realized that you weren’t catching on.

So he slides the lyric paper in front of you. And the first thing you notice is the title. Your name.

Bonus

“I still think you should have done the private photography exhibit of all of the pictures you’ve taken of them.” Wooyoung said when Hongjoong announced your new relationship. You looked over at your boyfriend, seeing his face turn red.

“Meet me in my room later.” He told Wooyoung through gritted teeth. “Ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” You shake your head.

“No, no. I want to see these pictures. Please?” He could feel himself caving the second he saw the pout on your face.

“Make sure you ask to see the ones on his phone too.” San added with a wink before running away so Hongjoong couldn’t catch him.

Yunho

Brings you coffee/food when you’re studying/working late

Yunho knew when he met you that you were going to be more than a friend to him. It was so easy to talk to you and spending time with you made him happy. He knew he was going to crush on you. But he didn’t know he was going to fall this hard.

Standing in the long line to get your favourite food, he checks his phone again. It’s nearing 10:30. You said you would be done at 11. He’s next, so he knows he’ll make it time to meet you outside with the food.

He’s not sure when this little tradition started. Whenever you’d be out late, he would go pick up whatever it was you were craving and bring it right to you for whenever you finished. He remembers the first time he did it, surprising you with dinner after you got out. You were so happy you almost cried. He remembers you hugging him as tight as you could, and he didn’t want you to let go.

That’s when he knew this was more than just a crush. Because in that moment, he knew he would do absolutely anything to see you that happy again. He would even steal the moon for you.

Playing video games together

It started with you asking him to teach you how to play his favourite games. You would sit on his lap and he would guide your hands until you learned all the controls. No one has to know that you purposely took longer to learn the controls so he’d hold your hands longer.

One day he surprised you with your own set up so you two could play together. Though you preferred when he was teaching you, you still loved this time together. The two of you could play for hours without realizing it, getting lost in each other more than the game, but no one had to know.

Even finds himself only playing when you were available, because it’s only fun with you now. Though he’ll play with the members if they ask, it’s still more fun with you, but he’d never tell them that, (they know).

When he’s on tour and unable to play, you’ll still call him when you play. He smiles the whole time as he listens to you play his favourite game, and he wonders why he didn’t teach you sooner.

Slow dancing together

You’re not sure when it began. The sudden slow dancing around the dorms when it was just the two of you. One day, Yunho just put on a song, held out his hand, and asked you to dance. And how does one say no to slow dancing with Jeong Yunho?

The first couple times were clumsy. Missing steps, tripping over each other, skipping beats. But neither one of you cared, because it was just the two of you, and you were having fun. You didn’t even notice that Yunho was playing the same song on repeat.

Soon it became a thing. As soon as it was just the two of you, Yunho would put on the same song, hold his hand out, and ask you to dance. You never said no. You loved the intimacy of it. Of being in his arms, of being close to him.

After a while, you both got the hang of it. Sweeping around the house together with ease, as if it was second nature. As if this is what you two were born to do; dance together just like this.

Today he smiles down at you, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you. And the words spill from his lips before he can stop them. “You know, this is good practice for our wedding.” And for the first time in months, you trip over his feet.

Bonus

“This is why you ask us to leave whenever Y/n comes over?” Mingi asks as he walks in on you two slow dancing. “Just confess already.” You both giggle.

“I did that last week, princess.” Yunho tells Mingi, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Don’t tell me you said something cringey like this was practice for your wedding.” Mingi could tell by the look on Yunho’s face that that’s exactly what he did. “Oh come on! How many months of planning and that was the best you came up with?”

“Hey! Between the two of you, only one of you is in a relationship.” You spoke up in defense of your boyfriend. Yunho chuckled when Mingi’s jaw dropped.

“That’s my baby.”

Yeosang

Shares all his food with you

Now Yeosang didn’t mind sharing most of his food with his friends, but when it came to certain things, he would rather bite their finger than share even a bite. But when it came to you, he wouldn’t hesitate sharing everything, even his chicken.

It came as a surprise, even to him, when you asked for a bite of his chicken and he handed it to you with no hesitation. He was smiling to himself as he watched you take a bite, your eyes widening slightly as you nod your head. “Yours is so much better.” You had exclaimed. And he wasted no time in switching your plates so you could enjoy your dinner.

He finally understood all those people who said they could feel full just watching someone they love eat. And he knows he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Especially if it meant you would smile at him like you are now. Your arm linked with his was just a nice bonus.

Spontaneous trips

The second he knew he had the week off, he was at your place with two plane tickets to the place you’ve been wanting to go to for a while. He remembers you showing him pictures of the places you wanted to see there, the different foods you wanted to try. And he knew he wanted to be the one to take you.

He loved that you didn’t ask questions. Just quickly packed a bag with lots of excitement, and then the two of you were off on a week long vacation. It was one of the best decisions he ever made, if he was honest. A close second to leaving for KQ.

Despite all the other tourists and the locals, it felt as if it was just the two of you. All his focus was on you, and most of the pictures he took were also of you. Except for the few he took to post for Atiny. And when he leaves for tour in a couple weeks, he knows he’ll be scrolling through these pictures, waiting for the next time he could take you on a trip.

It didn’t take long before it became a tradition for the two of you. Whenever he had an extended break, he would buy two plane tickets to a destination you haven’t been to. You’ve learned to keep a bag packed so you’re ready to go when he comes to pick you up.

Yeosang also started planning short trips to places around Korea for his shorter breaks, because he just wanted to spend all his breaks with you. He loved getting to spend this one on one time with you, loved showing you places he’s been on tour, showing you the world.

He also began sending you pictures of the places they were while he was on tour, making a mental list of the ones you seemed excited to see. Yeosang had an entire list in his phone of the places he wanted to take you, complete with sights to see and food to try under each one. The list was ever growing, and he can’t wait to show each place.

Let’s you practice makeup on him

It started with a simple, “Sangie, can I do your makeup?” and ended up becoming a weekly thing you liked to do. You’d sit in his lap and gently apply the products on his face. It soon became one of his favourite things to do with you because he loved having you so close, loved how intimate it felt.

As you did his makeup, you would compliment his features. Tell him how pretty you found him. Atiny helped him not hate his birthmark, but you? Oh god you? You made him fall in love with it. The way you’d trace it softly with your fingertips with a soft smile on your face, whispering the word pretty every single time. You never covered it, telling him it was one of your favourite parts of him.

You helped him see himself through your eyes. He’s never felt so pretty, so confident. And he realizes he can’t hold back anymore. He wants you, needs you, loves you. You’re sitting on his lap, his arms are wrapped around you so you don’t fall, and your face is so close. You told him you were going to turn him into the fairy prince he really is. “Sangie! Your cheeks are so red I don’t even need to use blush. You’re so cute!”

You boop his nose and he knows that this is his chance. He slowly leans forward, risking everything in this moment. It’s slow at first and then fast and sudden. He captures your lips in a kiss and waits for you to push him away, but you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. He risked everything, and it was worth it.

Bonus

“Oop my bad. I just needed to grab something. Please carry on.” Yunho says as he tiptoes into the room and grabs something off his bed and leaves again. “Guys! They were kissing! It finally happened!” They heard as Yunho made his way back to where the rest of the members were.

“Kissing?! Before marriage?!” Wooyoung yells and Yeosang can hear him running to the bedroom before he was stopped by someone, probably Hongjoong.

“Just accept that he likes Y/n more than you.” Jongho teased. Yeosang chuckled and you blushed. Then he brought your face closer to his, bringing you in for another kiss.

San

Buying/sharing plushies

San loves plushies, it’s just a well known fact. He has favourites of the ones he owns, but he loves them all. And he enjoys buying new ones that he finds. He also loves you, which is not a well known fact. He doesn’t even realize it at first, until he’s standing in the plushy aisle in a store, holding one that reminds him of you, and he feels happy.

He buys it immediately, gifting it to you the next time he sees you. San watches your eyes light up when you see it, and he has a need to see it again. You told him you’ve been jealous of his collection, and before he could stop himself, he’s offering half custody to you.

That’s where it began. Every weekend the two of you would swap a plushy or two. He was nervous to part with his favourites at first, but you would send selfies of you with them doing random things together. Like having a movie night, or a spa day, or just eating a meal together. And he loved it. So much so he made one of the pictures the wallpaper on his phone.

You always made sure to take good care of his plushies because you knew how much they meant to him. They always came back in the same condition they left, except they smelled like you. It became his new favourite thing. And he would cuddle the ones that smelled like you at night, imagining it was you next to him instead.

Pool days

San loves the pool. He could stay in the water for hours, just chilling, swimming, vibing. Him and the members tried to go whenever they could, but it wasn’t nearly as often as he wanted. When you moved to a new place with a pool, you offered for him to come over whenever he wanted and the two of you could enjoy pool days together.

He jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with you, and the chance to show off his body. He’s worked hard to get it to where it is now, he’s proud of it, and he wants you to enjoy it. Wants you to ogle, stare, drool. He hopes to be the person in your horny fantasies. The one in your wet dreams.

Little did he know that checking him out was exactly the plan when you offered for him to come over. You’ve seen pictures, but you wanted to see the real deal. Wanted to see it up close and personal. Your eyes were glued on him and he was soaking it all in. He felt a sense of pride watching your eyes follow him everywhere he went. You were taking mental pictures for a late night alone.

“Join me.” He says after jumping into the pool. You were sat in a lounge chair, enjoying the view, but you could also enjoy the view from up close. San watched as you took your clothes off, leaving you in your swimsuit. And he realized that he was unprepared to see you in a swimsuit. Only preparing himself for you to see him in his swimsuit. And now he has to figure out how to get rid of his boner before you both decide to get out of the pool.

Carries you around everywhere

You’re not sure when or why it started, but San developed a thing for carrying you around. Whether it was a piggyback ride, or he was just picking you up in his arms. He never seemed to have a destination in mind, just wandering around with you on his back or in his arms. He just loves having you close.

He’s always been a clingy guy, but he wants to be clingier with you, if that was possible. That’s why he wants to carry you everywhere, so he can always have you touching him in some way. Your touch is his favourite.

He’s picking you up as soon as he sees you, something you’ve become very used to over the last couple months. Though it seems as if today he has a destination in mind because he’s not just aimlessly wandering around. Before you can ask where you’re going, you’re being set down in front of a man you’ve only seen in pictures and videos on the internet. “Soulmate 1, meet soulmate 2!” San beams.

“Hey! You can only have one soulmate!” Wooyoung pouts. You can’t help but giggle.

“You’re my platonic soulmate. Y/n is my romantic soulmate.”

Bonus

“San has a s/o!” Wooyoung yells as he runs off to who knows where. You’re still standing there, staring at San with wide eyes, but he just looks at you with a smile, cocking his head to the side. He looked so cute, and you felt so lucky that he saw you as his soulmate.

“I love you.” You blurted out suddenly. San just chuckled, pulling you into his arms.

“I know.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too.” You were too shocked to ask how he knew, but it didn’t really matter. Because at the end of the day, he loves you too.

Mingi

Smiles/laughs more when you’re around

Yunho noticed it first. The almost automatic smile that would make its way onto Mingi’s face whenever he saw you. Even just being in the same room in you would make him smile. How he laughed at all your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. Mingi would laugh like it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard. Every single time.

Whenever Mingi was having a bad day, Yunho would call you over, and Mingi would brighten up almost instantly. “Heard you’re having a rough day. Want to talk about it?” You’d ask with such a soft voice and so much affection pouring from your eyes, Yunho felt like a third wheel immediately.

It was as if you two were in your own little world. Mingi would play with your hand as he rambled about his day, and you listened to every word. When he was finished, he would look at you and smile, and it was like a weight was lifted off of him. Even if nothing was fixed, everything was better.

“I love your smile.” You told him once. “It’s my favourite thing about you.”

Will do anything to make you laugh

His smile was your favourite thing about him, but your laugh was his favourite thing about you. To him, your laugh sounded like pure joy, pure happiness. Your laugh could make even his worst days better. Your laugh makes stars shine brighter, makes hot chocolate taste sweeter, makes colours more vibrant. He could write an entire album based entirely on your laugh.

So whenever he sees you upset, he’s on a mission. He will do absolutely anything to make you laugh. Even if it involves embarrassing himself repeatedly. Funny faces, dumb jokes, falling over. He’ll even get the members involved if nothing else seems to work.

This is when the others started to clue into his feelings for you. And they all wonder how you can’t see it, when it’s so clear and in your face.

Clumsier when you’re around

Mingi is always clumsy, but he tends to trip over himself more when you’re around. It’s as if he completely forgets how to walk, forgets where his limbs are and how they work, whenever you come around.

A few times he overpoured his drink because he saw you as he was pouring and got distracted by how attractive you are. He didn’t want to look away, couldn’t look away. You’re magnetic to him. Ethereal. “You’re spilling.” You pointed out to him with a giggle.

“I meant to do that. Thought the counter was thirsty too.” He tried to play it off. You just nodded and helped him clean it up, making a comment about how the counter must have not been that thirsty after all. And that was the final straw for him. He was in love with you. Irrevocably so. The words almost came spilling out like the juice on the counter, but he bit his tongue. Do you feel the same?

When you left that day, the other members gave him a pep talk so that the next time you came over, he would confess to you. Every doubt he had, they would squash away.

What if Y/n doesn’t feel the same? They look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

What if forget what to say? Write it down. Practice. Just like our songs. Pretend they are lyrics.

What if I can’t speak? Here. Use this whiteboard.

What if… You’ll do great, princess.

The second he sees you, he’s tripping over his feet to greet you, literally. He falls flat on his face in front of you and your eyes widen as he just lays there. You wonder if he knocked himself out by accident, but then he picks his head up and looks at you. He’s smiling, but you can see the blood dripping from his nose, and you go to rush to help him, but he starts speaking before you can do anything. “I’m just falling for you physically and emotionally.”

Bonus

You sat next to him on the couch, dabbing up the now dried blood under his nose. “You’re lucky it’s not broken.”

“Hey, I got a s/o out of it so it would have been worth it.” You couldn’t help the blush that dusted across your cheeks, but you shook your head to try and hide your flustered state.

“Oh my gOd! They’re dating your honor.” San said as everyone piled back into the dorms.

“What happened to your face?” Jongho asked.

“Did you say something stupid so Y/n punched you?” Wooyoung joined in.

“I tripped.” Mingi mumbled, looking down at his hands. You grabbed one in your own, lacing your fingers together, and giving a quick squeeze, reassuring him that everything was okay.

“That’s our clumsy princess.” Yunho chuckled.

Wooyoung

Teaching you to cook/cooking together

Wooyoung loves to cook. Especially when he’s cooking for those he loves. You became one of his favourite people to cook for when he realized he was falling. Part of it was to make sure you were eating well, the other part was just him wanting to show off, show you he’d make a great partner.

And then you asked him to teach you. He could feel his heart wanting to beat out of his chest as you looked at him with your pleading eyes. How could he deny you when you looked so cute begging him like this?

He loved how domestic it felt to be in the kitchen with you like this, the two of you cooking a meal to eat together. You were chopping the vegetables, having a little bit of trouble, when you felt arms wrap around you. He gripped your hands with his. “If you do it like this, it’s easier.” He said softly in your ear, causing shiver to go up your spine. You stuttered out a thank you and tried to replicate his moves on your own.

Wooyoung still did most of the work, but he gave you all the credit, taking a bite and telling you that you did such a great job. It made you laugh, and that’s all that matters to him.

Teaches you Ateez choreography

Every comeback, the members ask their idol friends to do dance challenges with them to post on Tiktok. Fans love to see the little interactions between their favourite idols and see them try each other’s choreography. You were no different. Even tried to learn some of the dances yourself.

Wooyoung had once walked in on you trying to learn the choreography to Seventeen’s new song and decided from then on he would teach you Ateez’s choreography. Your face lit up when he offered, and you told him that you always wanted to learn, but some of the dances looked really hard.

Just like he was a great cooking teacher, he was also a great dance teacher, and you picked up on the moves quite quickly. “You could be our ninth member.” He had joked a few times with a smile on his face.

“8 makes 1 team.” You responded with a smirk. You were right, of course. But that still didn’t stop him from making the joke every time you nailed a new dance. He was proud of you and he hopes you know that.

Now every comeback, Wooyoung comes to you first. He can’t post the dance challenge he films with you, but he can look back on them when he misses you.

Mani pedi dates

It started with him wanting to pick out the colour for you. And the design, if you got one. Then he started scrolling Pinterest for ideas for you. Which then turned into him saying you should get nails to match their albums. And then finally, matching nails.

You would make the appointment when he was free, he would pick the design for both of you. It was relaxing and a great bonding experience for the two of you. He loved spending the couple hours it took for the both of you to get mani pedi’s together. Catching up on the days you were apart. And he would pay every single time. For both of you. No matter how much you protested, so you just gave up.

Today, the nails weren’t based on any Ateez albums, or songs. He chose something with hearts. “I’m confessing.” He tells you, and your heart sinks. He likes someone? “I want to introduce you to the person I’m in love with today. Come over for dinner?” He loves someone. He’s in love with someone. You just nod, and the two of you go your separate ways.

You dress as nicely as you can, hoping the makeup you put on covered the sadness you were feeling. “I can do this.” You chant to yourself as you make your way over. “I’ll meet them and then I’ll move on from him.” You say before ringing the doorbell. Wooyoung answers with a smile, taking your hand in his, and whisking you inside, where you see a table set for two, but no other person.

You try not to think too much of it. Try not to get your hopes up. They’re probably running late. Or maybe they’re in the bathroom. And you’ll soon see how perfect for Wooyoung they are, and then you’ll go back home and drown your sorrows in a tub of ice cream. “Y/n, meet the person I’m in love with.”

You bring yourself back to reality. Stood in front of a mirror. And everything clicks for you. “You’re a little shit.”

Bonus

“He did what and you still said yes?” Seonghwa asked. “Did you at least hit him first?”

“They kissed me.” Wooyoung answered with a proud smile. “A lot.”

“Okay they don’t need to know all those details.” You place your hand over his mouth, telling him to shut up.

“No, no. I think we do. Please, tell us more.” Yeosang teased.

Jongho

Clingy with you

Jongho doesn’t realize he’s falling for you until a movie night where you cuddle up to him, and he doesn’t squirm away from your touch. In fact, he softens under your touch, feels safer under your touch. That’s when he looks over at you, your attention still on the movie, and he realizes he loves you.

From that point on, he becomes clingy with you. Greeting you with a hug, goodbye hugs, cuddles whenever he sits next to you. It just feels natural to be touching you in someway. And it becomes a common sight for everyone to see that no one catches on to his underlying feelings for you.

He loves to play with your hands or the rips in your jeans if he’s nervous. Jongho has also started grabbing for your hand when walking around, so he doesn’t lose you in the crowds, and so you don’t wander off if you find a stray cat.

When he has a particularly bad day, he’s coming to you immediately. Laying on top of you on the couch or in bed, his head on your chest, your hands in his hair. It relaxes him immediately. Just listening to your heartbeat, feeling you play with his hair, it feels like home. Sometimes you hum your current favourite song softly, sometimes you’ll tell him about your day. He loves every second.

Going to the gym together

The gym is where Jongho gets most of his alone time. Sometimes another member or two will tag along, but they tend to stick to their own routines. But the second he heard you mention wanting to start going to the gym, he offered for you to join him.

He helped you get a routine going. Taught you how to use the machines. Jongho was basically your personal trainer that you didn’t have to pay. You just didn’t know how to tell him the whole reason you agreed to join him was to watch him workout.

But he knew. He had overheard your conversation with one of your friends who was asking why the sudden interest in the gym. It’s not that I’m interested in the gym per se. But watching guys, watching Jongho workout? Yes please. He wouldn’t lie, that single sentence, that single revelation, gave him a boost of confidence.

He started wearing tank tops when he knew it would be just you two at the gym. Would make sure to be somewhere nearby so you could have a nice view. He would smirk to himself whenever he caught you watching instead of focusing on your own workout. If it was you, he didn’t mind one bit.

Always comes when you call

The first time was when you missed the last bus. It was late and seconds away from raining. And you really didn’t have the money to Uber. You called Jongho almost in tears, and he was in the car before you could even finish your sentence.

The second time was when your friend bailed last minute and you didn’t have any other way home. You apologized even more than the first time. He reassured you that it didn’t matter him what else he had going on, he would always come when you called. Always.

And he did. Even on the days when you were just calling because you just didn’t feel like taking the bus after the day you had. He never complained, was never upset. He was always smiling when you got into his passenger seat, reassuring you that he really didn’t mind picking you up.

It was another day of you calling for him to pick you up. He was already in the car the second he heard your ringtone. You apologized for calling, and he could heard the exhaustion in your voice, could hear the tears you were trying to hold back. If he could, he would have broken every road law just to get to you faster.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologize again. He takes in your tired state and tells you once again not to worry about it. “I just feel like I’m always bothering you.”

“Would it make you feel better if I was your boyfriend?” He says suddenly. “Fuck I didn’t mean to say that.” He can’t look at you, but if he did, he would see you looking at him with wide eyes and mouth agape. You’re speechless, unsure of what to say. Because you would still feel like a bother, but you would feel better in general if he was your boyfriend.

“I mean maybe.” You answer finally. “I think you’ll have to ask me to find out.”

Bonus

The two of you walk into the dorms hand in hand, ready for the chaos that is about to ensue. “I knew it!!” Yeosang exclaimed when he saw the two of you. “Everyone said I was insane for saying Jongho liked Y/n! But look at them now!”

“Technically you’re wrong.” Jongho replied. “I love Y/n.”

“Holy shit?!” Wooyoung exclaimed.

“I knew there was a reason you were going to the gym more often!” San added in.

“My s/o likes watching me workout.” Jongho tells them with a smile, and you look over at him in shock.

“How the fuck did you know that?”

@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @cadenonlinelive @weird-bookworm @turtledove824 @lakoya @lookitsjess @yukichan67 @qveenbibi @palindrome969 @goddess-of-the-dark

pink means I couldn't tag you 🥺

#ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez #park seonghwa x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader

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star-girl69 · 1 year ago

Text

I Can See You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

I Can See You - Taylor Swift

(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)

warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“What the hell are you all doing?”

You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.

Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.

He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.

He didn’t understand any other kind of power.

The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.

Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.

You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.

“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”

“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.

You need this.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”

You opt to ignore him.

“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”

He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.

“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.

The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.

“Oops,” he says.

He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.

—-

The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.

“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”

“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.

“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”

“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”

You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.

They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.

Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.

Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.

“I have a horrible idea.”

“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”

You and Tyla both gag.

“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”

Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”

You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.

No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.

“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”

“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.

“I would,” Jackie agrees.

“I mean, it might actually work.”

—-

You corner her the next day.

She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?

Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.

“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.

“What?”

“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.

She squints at you. “How?”

“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”

She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.

You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.

“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”

She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.

“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”

You ignore that.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“When are you gonna spell him?”

“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”

“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.

—-

The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.

Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.

You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.

Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-

“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”

And she is. She is so painfully pretty.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.

When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.

“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.

The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.

Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.

She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”

You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.

“Uh… yeah.”

She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.

“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”

“That’s fine.”

You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.

Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.

“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.

“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”

Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.

You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.

It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?

Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.

Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.

But you’re too deep in this now.

She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.

She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”

—-

You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.

There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.

You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.

“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”

He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.

You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.

“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”

You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.

You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.

“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.

His hand lands on your knee.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.

You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.

“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”

Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.

“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”

His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.

“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”

You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”

You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.

Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.

You stand in front of her, smiling softly.

“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”

“Of course I am.”

She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.

Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.

Everyone is staring.

It’s exhilarating.

You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.

Her breath tickles your neck.

“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”

You smile and place your hand over hers.

“I know.”

—-

The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.

How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?

You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.

Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.

You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.

After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.

You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.

“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.

“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”

“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”

“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”

She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.

“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.

None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.

Her smile is really pretty.

You laugh along with her after a second.

“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”

“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.

You don’t leave until the stars come out.

—-

The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.

You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.

“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”

He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.

“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.

He asks you questions and listens to your answers.

He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”

You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.

Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.

You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.

“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”

“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.

“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.

And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.

—-

All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.

The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.

You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.

It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.

—-

The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.

While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.

You’re okay with a bow.

Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.

As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.

“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,

“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.

“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”

He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.

He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.

“This one’s fit for a lady.”

You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.

You just need to find Clarisse.

“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.

Where the hell is Clarisse?

You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.

You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”

You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.

You’ve grown to like it.

He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.

You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.

You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.

You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.

The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.

But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.

She clears her throat and let’s go of you.

You back up.

“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”

You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.

“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”

“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.

—-

After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.

Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.

You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.

Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.

“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”

She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.

“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”

And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.

You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.

But you don’t.

You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.

The bow swings in your hand.

“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”

Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”

You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.

She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.

But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.

—-

On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.

Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.

Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.

You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.

Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.

He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.

“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”

Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.

“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”

She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.

Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.

She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.

“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.

Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.

“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.

“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.

Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.

Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.

Revenge feels to good, and you need this.

As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.

Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.

Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.

“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”

He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.

He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.

He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.

Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.

It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.

She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.

Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.

Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.

But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.

You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.

She stares pointedly at the distance.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.

—-

You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.

You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”

“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”

You sit down on the bed next to hers.

“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”

“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”

She slips off her armor.

“I’m not something to you.”

She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”

You leave silently and you cry in the woods.

—-

When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.

“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.

Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.

Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.

No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.

They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.

When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.

How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?

You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.

But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.

But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.

You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.

Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.

“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.

The words hurt. You say them anyways.

“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”

“Y/N,” Tyla coos.

“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”

—-

You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.

You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.

Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.

You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.

But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.

But you might just be making that up.

Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.

You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.

Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.

You’re alone at the stone table.

Xavier sees that as an opportunity.

Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.

He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.

“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.

“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.

You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.

You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.

—-

There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.

It even makes you feel a little excited.

“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”

“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”

“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.

Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”

“Supportive,” you muse.

Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”

“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.

Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.

You look around the room.

Most of your siblings are wearing worse.

And you need to get your mind off her.

“I’m wearing that.”

Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.

You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.

—-

The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.

You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.

Everything is so funny in the firelight.

Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.

There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.

“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”

Your heels sink into the dirt.

“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.

You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.

“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.

“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.

“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”

Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”

“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”

You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.

“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.

And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.

Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.

“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”

She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.

“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

She laughs, holding you up.

“Oh, you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.

Her face falls.

It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.

“Y/N, I-”

You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.

“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.

They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.

You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.

“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.

You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.

You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.

You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.

“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.

“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”

“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”

He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.

His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.

He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.

You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.

When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.

She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.

Good.

You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.

His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.

When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.

His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.

He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.

“N-not here. Not yet.”

His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.

“Maybe later,” you whisper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.

“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.

“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”

He’s ripped away from you.

You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.

You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.

Xavier only seems to find it funny.

“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”

She punches him again. Again.

“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”

One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.

“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”

She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.

“Clarisse-”

“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”

A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.

“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.

You see it fade from his eyes.

It shouldn’t be.

You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.

“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.

He holds his hands to his already red face.

“You’re a fucking witch.”

Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.

Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.

—-

She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.

She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.

“Do you need something?” you mutter.

“I was selfish,” she starts.

You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.

“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”

It wasn’t true.

“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You place your hand on the grass next to you.

She sits, you don’t look at each other.

“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”

You smile.

“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”

“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.

“Mean what?”

“That it wasn’t true.”

“It wasn’t true.”

You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.

“I-I was just angry, and I-”

You’re sick of hearing her talk.

It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.

Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.

The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.

You pull away.

“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.

It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.

When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.

You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.

You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.

—-

y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before

clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl

clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)

—-

y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!

clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!

—-

clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up

—-

clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE

literally everyone: YOUR girl????

clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him

everyone: not a logical solution???

—-

shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM

also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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allpiesforourown · 7 months ago

Text

I know people hate “bully/victim” ships so IM SORRY theres just a silly modern au bully bingge idea i’ve been thinking about a lot lately .

cw for the above mentioned dynamic!!

Luo Binghe getting into some exclusive academy after finding out about his family’s inheritance. He immediately hates all these out of touch rich people… all of them except for Shen Yuan.

They have a basic meet cute. Shen Yuan spills Binghe’s coffee and offers to buy him a new one, giving him a tour of their campus while they’re out. He introduces him to the librarians and the office staff. Binghe is certain this is way too good to be true, and Shen Yuan has got to have some ulterior motive.

One some base level he knows Shen Yuan is a good person that is being kind for him for no particular reason. He’s seen him do the same for other people. But the idea of him being just one of the many people Shen Yuan is friendly with makes him feel bitter and self-conscious. So he’s like fuck it, I hate Shen Yuan actually he’s gotta be a green tea bitch or something (because if he’s not it will literally shatter his world-view if he finds out not all people are greedy and bad)

Hear me out . listen. Pushing someone around is something that can be so homoerotic

Bingge picking on Shen Yuan and being super, super aroused the whole time. He’ll dump water on shen yuan as a joke, then ignore everyone else laughing bc shen yuan’s shirt is sticking to his skin and his nipples got hard because the water was cold-

Or he’ll take shen yuan’s glasses and hold it above his head so shen yuan has to stand on his tip toes and come really close to try to grab it back (one time he even tripped and fell against binghe’s chest!!) Because he’s nearsighted, sometimes Shen Yuan will even forget to put distance between their faces and be within kissing range while he argues with Binghe.

Once he snuck into the changing room and stole shen yuan’s clothes so he would have to walk back to his dorm in his swim trunks. He definitely didn’t take pictures of Shen Yuan’s blushing face walking back to his room half naked and he definitely didn’t keep the clothes and sniff them like a weirdo haha…

It’s an average day for them (Binghe takes shen yuan by the wrists and holds him against the wall and calls him a fragile little princess and taunts him by saying he’s not strong enough to break out of his hold. Prime bullying tactic for someone you’re in love with 1. Binghe gets to see live reaction of sy’s face when he’s pinned down and struggling and can save that image for later use 2. Physical closeness, they’re practically pressed together 3. Shen yuan bruises easily and seeing binghe’s handprints on his wrists for like a week is super satisfying 4. Binghe can call him romantic pet names like princess or wife and shen yuan will just think binghe is calling him effeminate as an insult)

Luo Binghe even lifts Shen Yuan’s hands above him to catch both wrists with one hand and says, “You can’t even get out if I only use one hand?” It makes Shen YUan flush red from humiliation in suuuch an adorable way.

So anyway, Binghe is picking on shen yuan in the back room of some office somewhere, doing his whole routine because he’s been hurt too many times in life to be vulnerable with someone again and this is his only way to achieve intimacy with the person he loves. He’s been saving the “are you sure you’re a man? Maybe I should check” card for a long time and he’s so excited to use it. He’ll even say something about Shen Yuan’s dick being so short, he should just wear a skirt and become a real man’s wife, and that’s BULLYING, it’s NOT a kink, binghe does NOT jerk off to the thought of Shen Yuan wearing short dresses and greeting him home, he DOESN’T. (he does)

Before he can fulfill this amazing plan, Liu Qingge, another man in their year, barges in?? Obviously, they fight and Binghe’s chance to feminize his crush slips through his fingers

The worst thing is ??? Liu Qingge rescued Shen Yuan like some righteous prince saving the damsel in a fairy tale. Shen Yuan is not allowed to have a storybook romance with someone else! He hates Liu Qingge so much it’s unreal

It becomes impossible to corner Shen Yuan and get some time alone. He and that Qingge guy are together more and more often. Liu Qingge is in the library carrying Shen Yuan’s books now? Now they’re always hanging out on the grass having lunch?? They’re discussing what electives they can take together?!?!

It’s been like a month since he’s gotten to properly tease shen Yuan and he needs it bad. If he doesn’t pull down shen yuan’s pants in public to embarrass him (and see his ass) soon, he might actually die.

Then he spots him: Shen Yuan walking to class. Unaccompanied.

Luo Binghe is so overcome with exhilarated relief, he doesn’t even think about what he’s gonna do. He just runs over, ignores Shen Yuan’s screaming, throws him over his shoulder like a bag of rice, and carries him away.

Shen Yuan freaks the hell out because, okay, petty insults and light fighting are one thing, but he’s straight up getting kidnapped?? That’s not bullying anymore, that’s a crime!!

Binghe knows he only has so much time before Qingge manages to find them. He needs somewhere he can hide – he races back to his room before he can plan any further. He throws Shen Yuan on the bed, locks the door, and sighs in relief.

Shen Yuan is sure he’s gonna die. He has no idea what he ever did to piss Binghe off so bad. Yes, he spilled his coffee, but he got him another one!

Binghe takes a seat on the bed as well. He averts his eyes away from him bashfully, but glances back periodically like a maiden trying to play coy. Shen yuan has no idea how to navigate whats happening. He backs up on the bed until he hits the wall and holds up a pillow like a shield, except- there’s something underneath.

It’s the cucumber patterned gag boxers he got as a joke from airplane. No one in the world would buy them. “Is- is this my underwear?”

Binghe lunges at him to knocks the evidence out of Shen Yuan’s hand, but instead pushes him onto his back and ends up with his hands on either side of Shen Yuan’s head.

Shen Yuan is shocked in place. Binghe, on the other hand, is in bullying-cute-boy withdrawl. He sees Shen Yuan's beautiful face flustered by their position, on Binghe's bed, and POUNCES.

Now that Shen Yuan finally understands his feelings, Binghe has permission to torment him! And he does. For hours, with various tools and against every surface.

#i want to bully shen yuan so fucking bad #not a fic or a shortly summarized idea but a third more sinister thing #svsss #shen yuan #bingyuan #luo binghe #bingqiu #binggeyuan #modern au #allpiesforourown

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bettysupremacy · 1 year ago

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Omg imagine james doing something stupid (not much imagination needed there) and r is telling him of (lovingly) and he’s just like “yes ma’am🫡” and the others are like side eyeing him I just NEED james to call me ma’am in an argument

i hope you are having a great december so far my love

(not much imagination needed there) LOL

i could kiss you this idea is so cute thank you lovely

“Oh, my boy.” You croon to the mess tumbling into your lap. Softly, you brush some hair from his fluttering eyes. “What‘ve the evil twins done to you.”

“Evil twins!” Sirius gasps.

Remus laughs. “That’s a new one.”

You don’t look up from the sickly boy careening for your touch. “What did they feed you?”

He moans into you, muttering something you can’t pick up. He’s gone all right, ten shades of flushed and warm to the touch. It’s already a warm night, but this is no warmth that came naturally.

“We didn’t do anything.” Remus denies impishly.

“Puking pastilles again?” You eye them. “Do you know how long we sat by the toilet?”

“That was not our fault.”

“And neither were the nosebleed nougats?” You sigh. “Seriously thought his brain was coming out his nose.”

Sirius nods in agreement nose scrunching. “Not his finest moment.”

“Because of you.”

“Don’t start with me, woman.” His finger points between your eyes.

James is malleable under you, nose pressing into your thigh coyly. You see the corner of a smile as you fuss, guilty pleasure at your roaming touch. The room is hot, warm bodies passing and going as they please through the small flat. You fear he may run a fever, though that’s uncommon. James immune system is a rock, solid at anything thrown to it.

You press your hand to his forehead. “Has he had to much?”

The boys eye each other suspiciously. “Too much?”

You scoff. “To drink?”

“Depends.” Sirius shrugs

“On what!”

Their dubious behavior alarms you. These boys are up to something, or rather, were up to something, and now they’re avoiding dealing with the consequence of you.

“The substance.”

“Substance?” You sit up straight, shuffling the boy under you. He grumbles in protest.

“Potion.” Remus gives.

You frown apprehensively. “You didn’t.”

“We didn’t,” Sirius starts.

“he did.” Remus finishes.

Felix Felicis. They’d been talking about it a couple weeks ago, getting their hands on some. You protested, begged them, to forget it. It’s too dangerous, your voice of reason lowered their spirits, James you’ll be sleeping on the couch if you risk yourself like that.

“No,” You whine, fretting over the intoxicated fool. “how much?”

“Ask loverboy.”

“The whole,” James takes a deep breath mid sentence. “bottle.”

“Oh my god,” your eyes wide at the older boys standing. “he’ll be puking all night.”

“Maybe not..”

Your face drops into your hands exhausted. “Puking Pastilles all over again.”

“M’sorry.” James moans under you. “M’so sorry, lovely.”

“That was so stupid.” You scold lightly, hand coming down to flatten over his collar bones. “So, so, so, stupid!”

You're ruffled, shaken at the thought of him downing such an expensive, easily tainted, potion.

“Do you listen to everything they tell you to do?”

“No,” he starts slowly.

“Seems like it.” You bristle, pulling him up to sit. You look into his eyes seriously and he shuffles, nervous under your gaze. “Get a mind of your own.”

His fingers twitch at the hem of the dress you’d picked out tonight, squeezing it in his grip, grounding himself in reality. “Yes ma’am.”

Sirius scoffs behind you, shaking his head at Remus who looks equally perturbed at James’ extra affection. Under them, you wrap your arms around his neck surely. Besides the soft sent of sickly sweet potion, he smells of pine and cologne. You let yourself recognize his body is continuing to function as it should. Untouched, mostly, by the yellow inebriant.

“I can’t stand you, do you feel well?”

“I’m feeling better.”

You stick your face in his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“No, I don’t feel well.”

You sigh into him, pressing a kiss into his freckled skin. He won’t sleep on the couch tonight, though you aught to teach him a lesson.

“We’re going home.”

“What?” James frowns. “We only just got here.”

“D’you have another pool to jump in?”

He cringes at the memory of his fireball spree. “Kay, coming.”

You collect your coat and purse as you stand, leaving James to fend for himself behind you. “Felix Felicis isn’t a joke, one wrong tincture of thyme and you’re in St Mungo’s- James, were are your shoes?”

#james potter x you #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james x reader #james potter fic #james x you #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter #james potter comfort #james potter x y/n #james potter x y/n fluff #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x wife!reader #marauders x reader #marauders fluff

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trustmypoison · 3 months ago

Text

Vernon and idol partner accidentally outing their relationship

Genre: idol!vernon x idol!reader

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘How about Vernons s/o also being an idol and fans figuring out there dating maybe by seeing something that belongs to his s/o in the background of a vlive or hearing vernons voice in the s/o live or just something like that and fans are going crazy but in a good excited way! :)’

A/N: lowkey inspired by his recent dating rumors in which no one was actually mad about the potential date itself, but rather that he didn’t dress up for it. That will never not be funny to me.

Vernon, who hasn’t had a lot of opportunity to keep up with you lately.

He’s just gotten back from touring, only to begin promoting for something else. He’s texted you here and there when he can and FaceTimed you sometimes before bed, but it’s not the same. But he’s finally home for a little bit of a breather. Just in time for management to ask him to do a vlive. He sighs and agrees, though he’d like to do something for himself.

You, who knows he’s home and you're getting frustrated with the lack of communication.

You know he’s home and you know he knows you have some downtime. Your group is in the early stages of a new album, which means that you have a bit of time to yourself before schedules are finalized. And you want to spend that time with your boyfriend, while he’s presumably free. Yet, he’s been on Do Not Disturb for a while tonight and you’re growing upset about it. Does he not miss you too?

You, who should have checked notifications on the way to his dorm.

You recognize that it’s a bit irrational to just show up, but you’re starting to feel like your relationship is at a tipping point. Like the next conversation you have with him could be a break up. You want to get ahead of it if it is. So you shrug on a jacket and slide on some shoes and drive to his dorm. You miss the vlive notification on the way there.

Vernon, who doesn’t hear you at the door when you let yourself in.

You have a key code, so when no one comes to the door, you let yourself in. You hear him talking, and it sort of upsets you. Is that why he was on DND? Because he was busy talking to someone else? You stand outside of the bedroom door for a few moments before pushing open the door. You realize your mistake immediately. You know what a vlive looks like. You reel back, biting back a curse and closing the door.

You, who sits out in the living room, spiraling.

Vernon texts you ‘one minute’ just as your hand is on the door knob to leave the dorm. You sigh and sit down, head in your hands. Your phone has already started dinging with early signs that someone noticed you. You’re being tagged in some fan accounts. The rumors aren’t new, but this little sighting in his vlive will spark a wildfire. You dread hearing from both of your managers - probably before the night is over.

Vernon, who takes a minute to figure out where to go from here.

He wraps up the vlive in about five minutes, but stays hidden away for a few more minutes to gather his thoughts. He knows you both are busted, but he has to swallow the anxiety that’s building. Idol relationships aren’t new by any means, but they’re finicky. There’s a reason so many older or former idols announce marriages rather than dating. You both might get eaten alive for this.

You, who starts apologizing the moment Vernon enters the room.

He shushes you, sitting next to you to hold you close. "It’s okay, we’ll figure it out." You sniffle. "Will we? I was kind of wondering if we were going down the drain even before what just happened." Vernon rubs your back gently. "Do you want it to be that way?" He won’t say it, mostly because he hopes the answer is no, but his management would undoubtedly like it to be over before they ever have to address the rumor. It feels like the easy way out. You sniffle again, shaking your head 'no'. Vernon feels relief flood him, even though his phone is already ringing, first from his manager and then from his leader.

Vernon, who sticks up for you both the next day.

Both of your management teams encourage you to break up, or at least deny it. He insists that breaking up is not an option and that management has no room to force the issue since neither of your contracts have a dating ban anymore. As for denying it, he leaves it up to you. He’ll deny it if you want, but there would be something freeing to him about being able to just be with you and not worry about hiding it anymore.

Vernon, who doesn’t hesitate to hard launch the next day by appearing on your vlive.

Both of your management teams resign themselves to the media storm and ask for a little bit of time to prepare a joint press release. A few hours after it goes out, you and Vernon eat and chat over vlive. You guys aren’t lovey dovey or anything, but you both feel some relief at not having to hide your relationship anymore to save your jobs. You both ignore the comments for the most part, just in case it kills the mood.

You, who is pleasantly surprised by how supportive the comments are.

When you’re finally brave enough to check, it’s only because one of your group members is insisting. ‘Check it, I promise it will make you feel better,’ she says, urging you to search both yours and Vernon’s names and see what people think. It kind of brings tears to your eyes. You thought the majority of them would be negative. That's usually how this goes. But they’re overwhelmingly positive and sweet, and the ones that aren’t kind are getting told off in the replies. You send some screenshots to Vernon, who barely seems to react.

Vernon, who is actually sort of emotional about the support but will never admit to it.

Sometimes it feels a little forced to thank Carats, if only because like any fandom they’re a force to be reckoned with. In this business, it feels like a single toe out of line might end his career, and fans are often at the helm of that destruction. But he’s glad that the fear he felt was almost entirely unnecessary.

Vernon, who unabashedly talks about you and your relationship from now on.

His group members groan at some point in most interviews because they know there will always be a question about you. It's kind of sweet how he gets this dopey look when he talks about you, so they let it slide with minimal complaints. They happen to know the same thing happens with you in your own group.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #vernon #vernon chwe #vernon x reader #vernon chwe x reader

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leona-hawthorne · 2 months ago

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lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “need rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

#— 𝑙𝑒𝑜’𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 ❧#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #enzo berkshire x y/n #slytherin #harry potter #louis partridge #character analysis #lorenzo berkshire x female reader

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ladybirdswritings · 2 months ago

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INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s whisking you away on a date. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

three;

Your skin was drowned in amber and cashmere—rich, silken, and sparkling. Your hair was tied up in a bun, allowing a few mischievous ringlets to escape, highlighting the curve of your slender neck, and the pulse racing there.

Your dress was a deep violet, so deep that only under fluorescent lights could you see the purple hue—otherwise, it appeared black.

You looked gorgeous.

And nervous.

Entirely nervous, as you reapplied your gloss and paced the tile floor, where Kate and Axel eyed you suspiciously.

“Y/N, you really need to stop pacing. You’re making me anxious,” Kate snapped, having had enough of your shaky tirade. Axel nodded in agreement. “Calm down, you’re going to scare him away before he even gets here.” You scowled at that.

In the time since you and Clark had shared a quiet moment by the fire, when he trapped a ruby berry between your joined palms and blurted his desire to take you out, you’d texted sporadically and awaited a jolt to snap you from this dream.

“He’s definitely a serial killer,” you decided, and Kate pinched the space between her brows, shaking her head.

“Y/N, if he was a serial killer, don’t you think he would have killed you when you were alone at the bonfire?”

You huffed. “Ted Bundy had a girlfriend he adored. He didn’t chop her up into tiny pieces.”

“Oh my God…” your brother sighed, and Kate snorted.

Vera, Kate’s strawberry-blonde bombshell of a sister, stood and pressed warm palms against your shoulders. “Or maybe… you’re a really pretty girl, and he wants to take you on a date because he likes you. Duh.”

You gazed into the sincerity swimming behind her cyan eyes, nodding hesitantly. No, she was right. Your doubt, your pacing—it was just self-deprecation that had burrowed into your bones over the years. It had been so long.

Your ex was a jerk. Beyond that, he was cruel. His words still echoed in your mind.

You won’t find anyone else like me…

No one can deal with your baggage like I can…

No one else would want you like I do…

When you first dumped him, you were confident—until that confidence slowly evaporated, as time passed. Two years, in fact, with no strong man to keep you warm. All the boys you looked at were either taken or vile creatures who only wanted in your pants. Or worse—they didn’t want you back.

Vance was a great example.

Flirty, but noncommittal.

Yet for some reason, you still pined, and it made you feel pathetic.

The hum of the doorbell made your eyes widen to saucers. A cold chill kissed your skin.

“Do I look okay?” you nearly shouted in a whisper, anxious.

“You look great,” Vera promised, and you nodded, dragging your kitten-heel-clad feet toward the door.

The scent of pine from January’s chill lingered with honeyed whiskey, chai, and… flowers.

Flowers? Oh, you were definitely dreaming.

His glasses were lopsided and fogged, and he bumped them up with his wrist before offering the bouquet of creams, mauves, and navies toward you.

“Hi,” he breathed, furrowing his brows in frustration as the fog filtered his perfect view of his date. But he could smell you, and hummed a low, satisfied sound in his throat that you just missed.

“Hi.” You offered back, glancing anxiously at Vera and Kate, who hid their smiles behind their palms. You gently grabbed the flowers, fingertips grazing his, and brought them to your nose, inhaling their lovespelled scent.

“They’re… lovely. So lovely. Thank you, Clark.” He grinned, less lopsided than usual, and you handed them to Kate, who promised she’d find a vase before waving goodbye as you stepped outside.

A chill ran across your skin, and though Clark couldn’t see you clearly through his foggy lenses—too big for his face—he felt the ice linger on you. Without a word, he draped his suede blazer over your shoulders. It smelled of him, just like the bonfire, and you inhaled deeply, wrapping it closer.

Who taught him to be so… bookish?

“Come on,” he urged gently, his hand at the small of your back, guiding you to his sparkling navy truck.

You felt every bit the Miss Bennett to his Mr. Darcy as he offered you a warm, far larger than yours, palm and helped you into the elevated truck. Once inside, he quickly rounded to sit beside you. After buckling, he cleaned his glasses with the cloth of his navy shirt before tucking it back into his onyx pants.

Then he faced you and grinned again.

“Well, don’t you look purdy.” He teased, amplifying that Kansas twang, making a flush kiss your cheeks.

He was handsome. So handsome behind those glasses and his books and—well, everything. And here he was, on a date with you, one he initiated.

You’d been anticipating the night to go horribly wrong.

But it hadn’t just yet.

“So, I was thinking, I want to give you options. Mellow, casual—or fancy and… schmancy? Trust me, I don’t mind either. Especially not with you looking like that… uh—not that you don’t always look like that, I just mean—”

You arched a brow, watching the pinch return between his own chocolate brows. He met your eyes, catching the glint of mirth there. He huffed a laugh at his own expense. “I’m bombing this already, aren’t I?”

He tilted his head, his lazy grin making your head spin. You pursed your lips.

“Just a little,” you whispered, grateful that the moonlight cast enough of a shadow over your lips to show him you were joking. He laughed softly. A moment passed, and you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Is this another test of yours?”

His brows shifted upwards, and he smirked.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm…” Fancy schmancy restaurant sounded… exhausting. As pretty as you were, you knew very well you couldn’t keep up a tiresome charade for the entirety of the date. It wasn’t you. His pretty car and his Pinterest-worthy face made him seem like the type to prefer that option. But you decided that after you spoke your next words, he’d likely kick you out of his truck— and maybe that was okay.

“Mellow. Casual,” you whispered, and your heart dropped when his mouth turned into a thin line.

There it was.

Too good to be true.

Your palm itched for your seatbelt before that lopsided grin slid back onto his face.

“You’re trying to steal my heart, huh?” he whispered, perhaps more to himself, eyes roaming over your glossed lips. He offered a satisfied nod. “Okay, Y/N, hot chocolate or chai?”

•••

By the time you reached your destination, your eyes widened in awe at the glowing fluorescent letters.

THE WANDERING QUILL;

A bookstore.

You blinked, glancing toward Clark, who flexed his palm in an anxious manner whilst stepping out of the truck. Before shutting the door, he ducked back through it.

“Stay there,” he ordered, and you had to purse your lips together to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat when he circled to open your door and offer you a veined hand.

Maybe this was a trap. Maybe this perfect stranger was leading you into a slaughterhouse, ready to slice your skin and pick his teeth with your bones.

“C’mon, purdie,” he whispered as you hesitated, grabbing his hand. He led you down with ease, his fingers twitching in your grasp, but he let go, not wanting to push you before he even had you.

“I’m taking you book shopping,” he said, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the doors. You were admittedly overdressed, but his suede jacket hid that from view.

It didn’t matter, though. The moment the scent of aged parchment and spiced chai kissed your nostrils, you almost melted in contentment.

“This is my favorite place,” he said, his voice snapping you back to your senses. You looked up, and he was already peering down at you with an anticipatory expression.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, and his lips twitched as he turned you sharply right and led you to a quaint café beside all the books. He was amused, perhaps because it was maybe the third word you’d spoken all evening. A flush spread across your skin at that realization. You were being too shy. He’d undoubtedly grow bored of you, tire of your muteness, and—

“What’re you thinking about?”

Your eyes snapped to attention, and his expression softened when you spoke.

“No one’s ever taken me to a bookstore,” you said, catching yourself. The barista handed him two warm cups of molten chocolate that made your mouth water. Goosebumps erupted as you wrapped your hands around it.

“Do you like it?” His voice carried hope, and you were far too naive to catch it. Your beaming face melted something in him—like a puppet freed from its strings.

“I do,” you promised, and his lips twitched again. He blew on his drink and led you to a corner behind the café, surrounded by gold-dusted pages and crimson and violet-bound books, like something straight out of a storybook. He swapped your cups, less scorching than before, and then grabbed his own. He tilted his chin, signaling you to take a sip.

You did, and when the molten chocolate coated your tongue, you nearly melted too.

Christ.

If he dumped you on the side of the road after this, at least you’d die with a stomach full of this delicacy.

He laughed—a subtle, joyful sound. “That’s good, right?”

You could only nod, sipping again in tandem with him. His eyes wandered over the books around you. Then you blinked when you read the cursive sign that displayed “romance” in bold letters.

“Okay,” he began, taking your cup gently from your hands, making you pout. As if afraid to wilt you, he guided you forward. And god, if your neck wasn’t so close—so suckable—he might have stopped there. “Um…”

You tensed, wondering if maybe your amber-and-cashmere scent was off, if you’d forgotten deodorant. Christ, your stomach dropped.

Then you felt it—his hand at your hip, warm and firm, much firmer than you expected from his sweaters and flannels. Slowly, it snaked around your waist. He was asking permission, not demanding anything.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, so low you almost missed it. His touch wasn’t sexual; it was exploratory, as if seeing just how the pretty, shy girl—who he’d seen in ridiculous hedgehog pajamas before this—could feel in his arms. You exhaled shakily and nodded.

“And this?” he whispered again, guiding you a step back, treating you like the delicate flower you were. You were back to chest with the bookish stranger you’d met just a week ago. Held. Wanted.

And though your paranoid, self-saboteur mind screamed that this would be disastrous, The gentle thrum of your heart told you this was exactly where you needed to be.

A breathy giggle escaped you as he tested a gentle squeeze on your hip.

He felt almost barbaric, on the verge of losing control as he buried his nose into your honeyed locks with a not-so-subtle inhale, followed by a grin. You smelled like fresh linens and gourmands, and if he were a lesser man, he’d tilt your chin up so to taste you with his starved tongue.

But you were shy, and he wasn’t a lesser man. Raised well by his parents, he only swayed you slightly, loosening the tension in your sharp bones.

“Alright,” he whispered, amusement in his voice, dipping his head low as if to shut out the noise of the world around you— as if to trap you both in this moment. He handed you your cup back, warm, though his body was warmer, and it took all your strength not to shiver and melt into him.

“How about this: you pick a book for me, and I pick one for you. We’ll read them, then when I take you out again, we’ll talk about them.”

When.

Already… when.

You swallowed hard, wondering for a moment if he was seducing you or if he was just a little mad. You were shy, quiet, and painfully awkward, yet he was planning a second date already.

Despite your racing mind, how you felt in that moment told an entirely different story. Maybe playing along wouldn’t be so bad.

“Deal,” you murmured, a mirrored grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. He swayed you again.

“Yeah? Okay. Romance only.” You nodded, “Romance only. Got it… close your eyes.”

And he did. His lashes brushed against your silvered ear as he lowered his head to steal another inhale. It took all his restraint not to pull you closer, not to lazily lick at the vanilla coating your skin.

Your fingers skimmed over the book spines for a long moment before settling on the first one that came to mind— Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Fitting, the title alone was enough, but beyond it— the meaning. Girl doesn’t believe in love, boy changes it… maybe this little game he had you playing could be more than just fun— maybe it could tell him something deeper.

For a moment, you considered playing it safer, but in the end, you decided against it, tucking the book to your chest. “Okay, your turn.”

His grin grazed the place just below your ear as he tilted his head up again, moving his hand from your hip to cover your eyes. You giggled, the sound light and sweet.

“No cheating, y/n,” he murmured, waiting patiently as he plucked a gold-trimmed book from the rattan shelf.

“I’m sure you know this one,” he added, tucking it to his side as you turned to face him, free from his warm grasp. You felt cold again.

“On three?” you offered, and the corner of his mouth lifted, a lazy grin spreading.

“Three,” he said, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your book to him— and he did the same.

The Notebook.

“Oh, Clark.” His gaze shifted from your chosen book to his own, brows furrowing. “You’ve read it,” he concluded, but you shook your head. “Never even seen the movie.”

His brows lifted, blue-gray eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. A ringlet of onyx hair fell across his forehead as he checked his watch.

“Can I steal you for another… two hours?”

You just didn’t have it in you to say no…

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afictionaladventure16 · 11 months ago

Text

Safe & Sound (Tim Bradford x Adopted!Teen!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Summary: While Tim and Lucy are on their first date, Y/N and Tamara face some challenges that ends with the realization that Y/N's past has come back to her new life.

Author's Note: I know Tamara technically doesn't find out that Tim and Lucy are dating until later on but uhhh this is fiction so yee. All requests are open!

Warnings: Mentions of fights and stabbing

Word Count: 4,630

You watched from the distance as your dad tried on different dress shirts in his bedroom. You had seen your father go on many first dates… maybe ‘many’ is an exaggeration, but that was beside the point, the point was that you had never seen him this nervous. He looked like a girl trying to find the right dress for the school dance, you couldn’t help but smile. He was in love.

You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Tamara

He’s a mess, you sent.

A few seconds later your phone buzzed in your hands,

So is she lol.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “What’s so funny?” Your dad asked as he gave you a quick glance.

You shook your head, “you guys have no idea how nervous you both are.”

He sighed, “Should I call her?” You gave him a nod. Tim gave you a smile, “First, what do you think?” he raised up a dark grey shirt next to a light gray one.

You rolled your eyes, “Does it even matter?”

“What if it clashes with her outfit?” He asked. After the two years you had lived with the man, this was the first time you had heard him say that phrase.

“I think all that matters is that you both are enjoying the date,” you suggested.

Tim looked at you with a smile on his face. After Isobel, he felt so lost within himself and somehow he found himself becoming a foster father to a young ten-year-old. It was only a year later that he began the adoption process. It was a long one, especially with the history with Isobel, he had waited a year and a half until the adoption was finalized. It was the best day of his life and he knows that there will be other days in his future that will try to complete, but he will always hold that day close to his heart. It was the day he learned how to be himself again, the day he learned that family didn’t always have to be by blood.

Now you were fourteen, looking forward to your fifteenth birthday coming up soon. A day that Angela was so busy preparing for because she knew as a Latina that you had to have a quinceanera, and Tim always tried his best to help you grow within your culture. It was one of the main reasons why he learned Spanish.

He let out a sigh as he reached for his phone, “do you-”

“If you don’t call her right now, I will call her myself, but I will video call her so she can see-”

“Alright, alright!” Tim chuckled as he dialed Lucy’s number.

You walked out of the room, sending Tamara another text.

I’m assuming you’re coming over with pizza? You sent.

You know me too well.

Ever since you met Tamara, she has been like an older sister. Maybe it was because the two of you were in the system and bonded over the traumatic shit both went through. Or because you both lived with cops that took you in and, although Chen is technically just her roommate, they were now your family.

Tim walked out of his room minutes later, “Alright, I am just a phone call away. Don’t forget to let Kojo out and please tell Tamara I said hi. Um- Am I forgetting anything?” He asked as he began patting his pants pockets.

“Keys and they’re in the key bowl by the door,” you stated as you scrolled through Netflix, Tim walked over to the key bowl, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his keys, “Bold of you to assume Tamara is coming over.”

“Is she not?” He asked.

“No, she is,” you smiled.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, “Don’t open the door for anyone but Tamara. You know the drill, make sure it’s her before you even op-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Can you go already so we can get this whole Lucy and Tim being continuously nervous over with?”

Tim took in a small breath, he couldn’t help but catch that you had called him by his first name. It had been two years already and you were still calling him Tim. Of course, he didn’t know how to tell you that calling him dad was okay with him and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to do so; but just hearing it would mean everything to him.

He gave you a small nod, “Call me if anything, alright? And make sure to turn on the alarm when I leave.”

“Yes, sir,” you watched as he walked out of the house, you waited for the sound of the lock before turning back around to continue your scrolling.

Twenty minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, which was then followed by a phone call.

You quickly answered, “I assume you’re outside,” you said as you got up from the couch.

“Your assumptions are correct,” Tamara said. You opened the door to let Tamara in. She had been carrying a bag, of what you assumed is junk food, along with a box of pizza. “Alright, so I found this new candy that you just have to try!”

You locked the door behind Tamara, “Alright, but first I need a slice of pizza because I am starving!” You followed Tamara as she walked into the kitchen to put down the box of pizza. You instantly opened it and grabbed a slice, “I can’t believe I watched Tim go through every single nice shirt in his closet like he didn’t even do that on his first date with Asley!”

“Oh, you think that’s bad? Lucy’s whole closet is now on her bed,” Tamara commented as she unpacked the bag of junk food. “Do you guys have sodas?”

“Yeah, in the fridge,” you gestured towards the fridge. Tamara helped herself, as she always does when she comes over, and she came over quite a bit. “Why do you call your dad by your first name?” Tamara blurted out.

You shrugged, “I dunno, I guess… I guess I just feel like I am not allowed to call him dad.”

“But he adopted you”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve wanted to, I just feel like I lost the moment to do so since it’s been two years since the adoption.” Tamara opened the box for a slice of pizza, “Has he talked to you about it? Or Lucy?”

Tamara looked down, “I know Lucy’s mentioned it. Something about he feels like he’s doing something wrong.”

You sighed, “What do you think?”

“I’m the last person you want to ask that.” You gave her a pleading look, and she let out a sigh, “Look, if it were me, the timing wouldn’t matter. He gave you a family, a home, he made you feel loved after everything you had been through in life… in a way, he gave you a second chance that not a lot of us get.”

She was right and you knew that. It had meant a lot coming from Tamara since she never got the opportunity to get this chance. She would argue that she did when Lucy took her in, but in a way it was different.

“Should I just do it randomly? Like just ‘Good morning, dad,’ just nonchalant about it?” You asked.

“Something like that,” Tamara smiled, “You’ll know how to do it when you feel ready and I think you know that you are.”

The two of you ate pizza and watched Game of Thrones for the next hour. At some point, you had gotten up and let Kojo out to the backyard, he had been whining by the door for a while. Tamara had taken that opportunity to get up to grab some snacks when all the lights went out, you looked over at Tamara.

“Whoa,” She exclaimed.

“This is fine,” you stated as you got up from the couch. “Tim usually keeps a flashlight in a drawer in the kitchen,” you walked over to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. It didn’t take you long to find the flashlight. You shined it at Tamara who had her phone flashlight on.

Tamara sighed as she walked over to the window, “That’s weird.”

“What?” you walked over to her. You were quick to notice that the houses across the street still had power.

“Looks like the neighbors next door also have power,” Tamara pointed out. You looked over at the neighbors to your left, she was right, “Did Tim forget to pay something?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s pretty good at paying the bills on time.”

The sound of the floorboard creaking caused the two of you to quickly turn your heads, “I didn’t move,” Tamara whispered.

“Neither did I,” you whispered back. You felt your heart leap into your throat, “Maybe I should call Tim,” you whispered as you took your phone out of your pocket. As soon as you had unlocked it you noticed the no bar signal on the top right corner. “Fuck,” you whispered. Kojo was scratching at the door, whining to get back in.

“What?”

You showed her your phone, “I have no signal.”

“W-what? How?”

You looked around for something to use as a weapon, “I’ve heard Tim mentioned this before. Some people use jammers in order to block a phone’s signal.”

“You think someone is-” You held up your finger, Tamara stopped talking. The two of you fell silent, listening to the floorboards creaking increasingly.

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered. You glanced over at the door, “I’m gonna grab kojo-”

“No, if Tim were here he’d want you out, Kojo can fend for himself,” Tamara stated. Tamara quietly walked over to the kitchen grabbing a pan that was on the stove. You slowly walked through the living room, you knew Tim had a bat lying around somewhere for emergencies.

What happened next was a blur. One second you were looking over at Tamara as she inched closer to the front door and the next you were on the ground and you heard yelling. You fought back as the person who was attacking you pulled out a knife. You were trying your best to use the techniques Tim had shown you, but this man was tougher than you had ever imagined. You knew that it wasn’t an excuse, that even if he was tougher and bigger than you, you had to find a way to defend yourself.

“I got the other one,” you heard another voice yell out. You hadn’t realized there were two of them.

You looked over at where Tamara was, “Tamara, run!” You yelled out. You could see the hesitation in her, “Go!”

Tamara felt like running would be the biggest mistake, but she knew there was no way of getting help by staying here. The second man inched closer to her, she swung the pan that she had in her hands, hitting the man in the head, it was enough to stun him so she could get a running start. She ran out of the house and into the neighbor's front yard, running up to the door; she began banging on it, “Help!”

You, on the other hand, were trying to get out of the man's grip. You sucked in a breath knowing that you had to do something you never wanted to do. You opened your mouth and bit the man's arm as hard as you could, he let out a loud yell and let go of you.

“You bitch!” he yelled out as he lunged towards you with his knife.

You lunged away from him, trying to dodge the knife, but he was bigger than you and still quicker than you. You felt a sharp pain in your side, “What the fuck did you do, Rick?!” The other guy asked as he came back inside. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?” You reached down to where you felt the pain coming from, feeling something sticky. The more you touched it, the more pain you felt. Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground.

“Fuck,” the man named Rick, looked at the knife and then at you. “I-I can fix this.”

“No! Forget it! It’s been compromised! We have to go, the other girl ratted us out!” The man began to make his way to the back door. “Let’s go!” he yelled out again. You lay on the ground, watching as the blurry image of them ran out of the house.

Tim couldn’t help but look towards the door every other second. Was part of him worried someone from the station would see him? Yes. But also, he had a habit of looking at the door every time someone walked in, especially when he was nervous.

“Are you worried someone from the station is gonna walk in?” Lucy asked.

“What?”

“You are,” Lucy said in disbelief.

“No, I-”

“Wow.”

“What are the odds?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, “It’s likely.” She cleared her throat, she didn’t want to have this discussion right now. “So, Y/N’s quince is coming up, how is that coming?”

“Good, good. I um probably going to be in debt for the next year so you can expect a nice Christmas card from us rather than nothing but emptiness inside.”

Lucy chuckled, “Angela is running you dry with this quince.”

“That she is. Anything Y/N wants, she gets. I swear she spoils her like she's her own kid.”

Lucy smiled, “I’ve noticed.” Lucy’s phone began to ring, she took it out, letting out a small chuckle at the sight of the name. “It’s Tamara, the girls are probably trying to check in on us,” she rolled her eyes. “Should I let it go to voicemail?”

Tim wanted to say yes let it go to voicemail, but there was a voice in the back of his head telling him not to. “Answer it,” he smiled, “Two can play this game,” he teased.

Lucy placed the phone on speaker, “Before you even ask, yes we are still at the restaurant and no I am not bringing you leftovers, I know you guys had pizza,” Lucy said with a hint of laughter behind her voice.

“Lucy,” Tamara cried out.

Lucy and Tim’s facial expressions changed, “Tamara, what’s wrong?” Tim spoke up.

“It all happened so quickly,” Tamara began.

“Just take a deep breath, Tamara,” Lucy began, “What happened?”

Tamara let out a soft sob, “Someone broke in the house. They cut the power and we had no way to call anyone. I-I ran to the neighbors for help, but Y/N was still inside, I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to her.”

Tim felt his chest tightened, suddenly this world no longer felt safe. In all his years working as an officer, he never imagined this to happen. Yes, he was prepared for it, or so he thought he was, but now, this world was more of a menacing place than he had realized.

Tim wanted to tell Tamara that it was okay, but he couldn’t, because to him, nothing was okay at the moment. He had failed the one promise he had kept to himself the day he took you in and that was to keep you safe. Now the one day he decided to be vulnerable and comfortable, it all came crashing down.

Tim got up from his seat, “Where are you?” Lucy asked.

“St. Vincents,” He heard Tamara say as he left a few bills on the table and began walking away. Lucy told Tamara that they’d be there in a few before catching up with Tim.

“Tim,” Lucy began, you could hear the pain within her voice. “Tim,” Lucy pleaded. Tim quickly turned around as they got outside. “I’m driving,” Lucy stated as the exited the restaurant.

“No-”

“No,” Lucy exclaimed as she got in front of Tim, “you’re not in the right mindset to be driving right now.” Tim opened his mouth to argue with her, “I’m driving.”

Tim closed his mouth and gave her a nod. They got into Lucy’s car and drove off to the hospital. Lucy broke a few laws that day, but Tim probably would’ve broken a hundred just to get there sooner. Tim didn’t wait for the car to be fully parked to hop out, he was already inside the emergency room making his way to the receptionist when Lucy made her way into the hospital.

“My daughter was just brought in, her name is-”

“Tim,” Lucy choked out, her eyes had landed on a horrific sight in front of her.

“Lucy!” Tamara called out, Tim turned around just in time to see Tamara running over to Lucy. He looked around for you, hoping to see you running up to him, but his heart sank deeper every second that passed. He walked over to the girls, his eyes landed on what Lucy was focusing on.

“Oh God,” he let out a shaky breath, as he watched nurses surrounding work on your wounds. He ran up to you, one hand grabbing yours and the other brushing the hair out of your face. “Y/N, sweetie, it’s me,” Tim began, “I'm here, okay?” he brought your hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss on them. He felt the tears begin to stream down his cheeks. “Is she going to be okay?”

One of the nurses let out a deep sigh, “The stab wound barely missed one of her aorta’s by an inch, it did knick her one of her lungs causing her to loose a significant amount of blood.” one of the other nurses began to lift the handles on the side.

“We’ll be needing to take her up to surgery now, to repair the damages,” another nurse said.

Tim couldn’t find the strength to let go, but he knew he had to. “Tim,” Lucy began, “they need to take her.” She placed a loving hand on his shoulder.

Tim felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, “We’ll get through this okay? You can’t leave me.”

Lucy felt like the villain as she pulled Tim away from you, but she knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it on his own.

Tim looked over at Tamara, “What happened?”

Tamara let out a small sob, “I-I don’t know. One second we were watching Game of Thrones and the next the power goes off.” She took in a deep breath, “We decided it was safer to be outside of the house once we realized we had no signal, she wanted to get Kojo but I told her to just leave him outside and that’s when they attacked her. I should’ve stayed with her,” she looked at Tim with remorseful eyes, “I’m so sorry, she told me to run, but I should’ve stayed.”

Tim shook his head, “No, you got help, if it weren’t for you, you both would’ve probably been worse off.”

“Tim,” Lucy called as she spotted Sgt. Grey walks towards them.

“Sir,” Tim began.

“I came as fast as I could, How is she?” he asked.

Tim sighed, shaking his head, “She’s in surgery, the stab wound hit one of her lungs.”

Sgt. Grey shook his head, before turning to Tamara, “We’re going to need your statement if you’re up to it, if not we can always wait for tomorrow.”

“I think after all they’ve been through, I think it’s best if we wait for tomorrow,” Lucy chimed in.

Tamara gave him a nod, “Tomorrow it is.” Sgt. Grey stated. He looked over at Tim, he noticed he hadn’t said much. His eyes were focused on the double doors where they had just wheeled you through. He walked closer to Tim as Lucy and Tamara walked over to some nearby chairs to sit down. “How are you holding up?” Sgt. Grey asked.

Tim shook his head, “I wasn’t there.”

“And you won’t always be there,” Sgt. Grey confirmed. “You can’t always be there, it’s one of the things we have to get used to when being a parent. We have to hope we raise them with enough knowledge so they know what to do in situations like this.” He let out a sigh, “trust me, it isn’t easy.”

Tim nodded, “I’ve noticed.”

“You let me know if you need anything,” Sgt. Grey gave Tim a soft smile before walking over to the nurse's station. Tim walked over to Lucy, sitting down beside her. No words were exchanged and somehow he preferred it this way. Lucy held his hand, squeezing it every once in a while as if she were checking in on him and he would squeeze back.

Tim felt like he had been waiting for days when in reality it had only been an hour. His eyes never left the double doors that were ahead of them, his body would jump every time someone would walk through them.

Eventually, a man in scrubs walked through them, his eyes scanning the lobby of people waiting to be seen or waiting for a patient. “Family of Y/N Bradford?” He called out.

Tim quickly got up from his seat, “I’m her father,” he quickly stated as he walked up to the man. “How is she?”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Avery, I was the lead surgeon. I am happy to say that the surgery was a success,” Tim let out a relieved sigh. “We’ll need to keep her for a few days for observation of course, but she’ll be good to go home after.”

Tim smiled at the man, “Thank you, when can I see her?”

“She’s in recovery right now, I can only allow one visitor,” The doctor stated.

Tim looked at Lucy, “Go, we’ll come back in the morning,” Lucy said.

“Do you mind stopping by my place and picking up Kojo? I think Y/N would kill me if she knew he stayed the night outside.”

Lucy let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, we’ll pick him up.”

“I’ll have you follow me,” the doctor gestured for Tim to follow him.

Tim followed Dr. Avery to the recovery room, he knew this hospital too well to know where he was going, but he never thought he would have to be here for a reason like this and he never wanted to be in this hospital again unless it was for work. Once he got to the room, the doctor left to finish up some paperwork.

Tim sat beside the bed, he gently held your hand. You looked so fragile to him as if you were a newborn, he was scared that one wrong move would hurt you. He waited by your bedside throughout the night. The morning sunlight began to peak through the windows, causing him to wake up. He gave you a small glance, sighing once he realized you were still asleep.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes once again, hoping to get some extra sleep.

You began to stir, you could feel the pain in your abdomen and you heard beeping. Slowly opening your eyes, beginning to realize that you were now in the hospital, the last thing you remember was watching the two men run out of the house. “Dad?” you called out with panic in your voice.

Tim’s eyes darted open, “Hey,” he said as he sat up in his chair. He grabbed your hand, he was overjoyed that you were awake, but also overjoyed of the fact that you had just called him dad for the first time. Although he was trying to hide his excitement because he didn’t know how to react to it, he had been waiting for this moment for so long and now it was here but the situation was overshadowing it.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Like shit,” you stated.

You winced as you tried to sit up, “Let’s try not to do that for now, alright? I know you’re uncomfortable, but I can get the nurses in-”

You waved your hand to stop him, “No, I’m fine.”

“You want to talk about what happened?” He asked.

You shrugged, “It all happened so quickly. The lights went out and Tamara noticed that the neighbors had electricity and that’s when we tried to call you, but our phones had no signal.”

“Looks like they used a jammer,” Tim speculated.

“That’s what I thought, we decided to leave but I wanted to get Kojo-”

“Kojo can take care of himself,” he stated.

“Tamara said you would say that, but someone attacked me as I got into the living room. Tamra was already at the door and she hit the other guy with a pan before running to the neighbors. I used all the techniques you taught me,” you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You fought back and you’re alive. That’s what matters right now,” Tim placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I remember one more thing,” you began. “When the guy that attacked me stabbed me, the other guy got mad. He said ‘Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?’ in those exact words.”

Tim felt the panic rush through his body, if his gut was right, he knew what these men were talking about. “Do you think they were planning on taking me?” You asked.

Tim didn’t want you panicking, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t be safe because someone was looking for you. “I don’t think so,” he began, “But Angela is on the case, you’ll tell her what you told me and we’ll get this straightened out.” You nodded, “Now, how about we talk about the elephant in the room.”

You looked at him with a confused expression “What elephant?”

“You called me dad,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes, “I can go back to calling you Tim.”

He chuckled, “No, no, it’s about time you called me dad. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to.”

“I felt like I lost my chance to do so,” you confessed.

“Honestly, if you had waited twenty years to call me dad, I would probably be sad that you waited twenty years but, overjoyed that you did,” he smiled.

“Be honest with me,” You began. “There isn’t anyone from my past that’s looking for me right?” You hadn’t spoken about your past in a few years, it was something you wanted to leave behind. “The last thing I need is these fantasmas (ghosts) coming back,” you added.

Tim sighed, “I don’t know, but you have me there and I can promise that from here on out–”

You shook your head, “You can promise to keep me safe but let’s face it, you’re not there with me when I’m at school or when you’re at work.”

“You’re right, I’m not. But I’m a cop. I have my ways and I know you too well.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I think you do.”

“Plus, if anyone does kidnap you, they’ll return you in two minutes.”

Your face turned into shock, “Wh-what?”

“Trust me, I don’t think they’ll be able to stand the twenty questions they’ll be getting from you or even the karaoke. I give them two minutes before they return you,” you let out a small laugh before you winced in pain. Tim sighed, he knew no matter what that he was going to protect you, and if he failed to do so, he was going to do everything he possibly could do, to get you back.

#The rookie fanfic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #the rookie #tim bradford x teen!reader #tim bradford x adopted #tim bradford angs #tim bradford angst #tim bradford x adopted!teen!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x lucy chen #tim bradfor x you #tim bradford #dad!tim bradford x teen!reader #tim bradford x teen!reader angst #tim bradford the rookie

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