#the asks I wish I could answer but can't are the ones that are funny or interesting but in a slightly too inappropriate way

[canisalbus]

Most unhinged ask?

.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

"i mess up things and then i don't have the energy to fix them up" yes brain true sentence but no brain the appropriate response is NOT "therefore i should kill myself (and here's how)"

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[gaspshichat]

can i just talk about one of my favourite pearl images?

technically two BUT I LOVE THEM. why?

aimsey is 4'11, and pearl is 6'0. in the first picture, aimsey is leaning on pearl's shoulder. either aimsey is standing on a box [sadly, i doubt it] or pearl is just CROUCHING DOWN ?????

also the second picture looks like pearl is once again crouching down to be level with aimsey, WHO SHE'S OVER A FOOT TALLER THAN 😭😭😭

they're just generally silly PLUS THEY LOOK SO HAPPY and i love their duo sm. like genuinely such an underrated duo and i wish we could get more interactions

my favourite pearl and aimsey interaction has to be valentine's day. pearl was streaming and it was late night for her [usual stream time] but for aimsey it was more late afternoon

aimsey comes into chat and xey just shout to pearl how they're going to do pottery with guqqie and pearl got so excited for him and asked to see it iirc

it was just such a genuinely sweet moment !!

--------------------------------

this part is unrelated to aimsey but pearl is just such a sweet person. i've extremely active in her chat and give bits every stream. my first stream i gave bits i talked about my unexplained chronic illness

do you want to know what she did?

she gave me a minute long message that still makes me cry to this day. i genuinely can't watch it bc i just instantly start crying

also yes she called me gaspie chat which is so funny to me. nowadays she calls me gasp or gasps but i do miss the gaspie chat day /hj

anyway, during last night's stream i talked about how i'm FINALLY going to get answers. after two years of constant sickness, i'm going to potentially get answers soon

she was so happy for me and hoped that i could finally get my answers soon before asking to give updates if i was comfortable

pearl is genuinely the nicest person i've ever seen in this community and her community shows that too. everyone is so kind to everyone that it's like taking a breath of fresh air

sorry [not really] for the big, rambling post, but i needed to say this

[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[luveline]

𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you comfort miguel when he lashes out after a memory —a ficlet featuring begrudgingly lovesick miguel and a flirty spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k

cw implied ptsd and accidental rough handling

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel can feel your heart-eyes on him. You're sitting behind him on the floor in his office, or, as you've fondly nick-named it this week, The Control Room, humming and making little origami flowers. 

So far you've made five, promising him without prompting a multi-coloured bouquet. He doesn't know why you've stopped (or why you started), but he doesn't have to turn around to confirm it. He can tell. You're shameless either way, proven when you say, "Hey, handsome?" 

He sighs with more annoyance than he feels. "What?"

"How'd you know I was talking to you?" you ask, with a laugh he loves and hates at once. Loves, because it's a really nice sound, and hates, because he knows how this goes. "I could've been talking to Margo." 

"She is handsome," Lyla chimes in. 

"Very much," you agree. 

Margo, alias Spider-Byte, looks up from her tablet screen to flash a smile. "Thanks, guys." 

"What did you want, then?" Miguel asks.

He's surrounded by girls who live to annoy him —they all laugh as though they know something he doesn't, and when he turns to glare at them they laugh more. Lyla zips out of his eyeline, disappearing from view with a sympathetic, "He's dumber than he looks." 

"Hurtful," Miguel says, turning back to his screen. "Why do I bother?" 

You stand up with your bundle of paper flowers crinkling in your hands and approach him. You're of normal height, while Miguel is of 'ridiculous' height (your word choice), and so you have trouble looking him in the eye when you stand close. You have more trouble keeping your distance, craning your neck all the way up with your rubber capped shoes to his spidersuit ones. 

"Can you lean down a bit, please?" you ask. 

Margo laughs, “Oh, here we go.”

Miguel has trouble saying no to you. And by trouble, he means he finds it impossible, and he hasn't done it in a while. He leans down very slightly, worried you're going to try and kiss him in front of the others. He's kissed you already (which he hates himself for, what a stupid thing to do) (but was a good kiss, as things go, your lips soft under his, his ardency undulating in the face of your little gasping sound when he'd bitten your lip, when he'd grasped at your side like you were slipping through his fingers), and you've kissed him. But never in front of other people.

Which isn't to say they don't know. Everyone definitely knows. They're just too scared or too kind to say. Or, like Lyla or Margo, they find it funny. 

Now in reach, you lift an origami flower to his ear and attempt to prop it there. He has a flash of a memory, a small hand by his face, the summer sun on his neck, and he can't deal with it. He grabs your wrist and pushes it away from him. 

Your eyes widen. You're not unused to his bad moods, but Miguel doesn't grab.

You look back, and he thinks it's because you're scared, and he wishes he could take it back straight away, but you're looking for Margo and Lyla. When you see they aren't there, you take his face into your empty hand and ask, "What's wrong?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. Sorry would be a good start, but his mouth is dry. He frowns down at you.

"I didn't mean to overstep," you say, uncharacteristically serious. 

"I didn't mean to grab you," he says. 

"I know. It wasn't so aggressive, anyways. I'm genetically enhanced, you know?" Your smile creases the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. "I'll make you something else. A fan, for the heat, or a jumping frog." 

You turn and take a step away. Again, Miguel reaches for you, but when he takes your wrist this time it's with the kindness you deserve.

"I'm sorry, cariño," he says. 

He’s embarrassed for having pushed you away, even if he couldn’t control himself. All you were trying to do no doubt was make him happy. It's usually your main prerogative besides winding him up, and he can't find any ill will in a paper flower. 

"Cariño," you quote in a murmur. It doesn't take a second for you to return to your smiley, loving self. "That's definitely something nice." 

"It's affectionate." He doesn't explain more than that. 

You force your hand into his, twirling inward like a half-hearted dance. "I can tell," you say giddily, dropping your cheek into his chest. 

He rubs the back of your hand. Sorry, sorry, it says, each pass of his thumb against your skin. 

"Miguel," you say, in the lilting cadence of a girl with a favour to ask, "now you've ragged me around–" 

"Not what happened–" 

"–I was thinking maybe I could do something to you." You smile cheekily around your words. 

He sweeps his gaze across the office to make sure there's no one here with you both, or about to be. Complicated you may be, but Miguel knows you well. Better than he should. He spent a long time denying his feelings for you, aggrieved and guilty, and a longer amount of time resenting you for being so damned enchanting. Which wasn't your fault in reality —you're a weird creature, and you can be a little off-putting; it's Miguel's problem alone that he wants you as badly as he does. To feel your neat, teasing smirk under his lips. To have the line of your jaw against his hand as you whisper flirtation or laugh at your own awful jokes. 

To take your hip into his grasp and squeeze. 

There have been times where Miguel wanted to press you up against a wall and kiss you into silence, quieten your taunting teasing with a bite to match his bark. And there have been times where he wanted to rub the tense line between your shoulders, having caught you in a vulnerable moment, and promise that things will be better. 

He isn't making any more promises, not in this life, but he thinks that someone like you, who tries too hard to make people happy and sometimes wears two masks at once deserves to do whatever it is they want to do to people like him.

"Okay," he says quietly. His voice is rough as hewn stone. 

You have a pocket full of paper stars that crunch as you lean in. "I'm gonna kiss you, if you promise not not to freak out. Is that cool?" 

Okay, you deserve some softness, but Miguel would rather lead. Your hand falls to his chest, and his hands find your face. His fingers behind your ears, his thumbs aligned with your smile, he squeezes your cheeks in his hold gently, tilting your chin up, and up. The column of your throat is bared and begging to be scandalised. He can imagine it, the bruising his lips would leave behind like crescent moons and the pinprick crimson stars from his needling fangs if he were to only press down. 

"We'll compromise. I'll kiss you, and you'll let me apologise again." 

"I don't need you to say sorry again," you say softly. 

"Then I won't say it." 

The implication has heat rising to your cheeks. Your hand grabs uselessly at his suit as you close your eyes, and Miguel knows his cue. He leans down and kisses you, tender but a little rough, your lips soft and warm and eager as he encourages your head to one side. It feels like you try to say something but you don't move back, and so he doesn't either, kissing and kissing and kissing until he's sure he'll remember how it feel tonight, hours from now, when he's staring at a screen wishing you were haunting his office rather than in a doze in the girl's dormitory. 

"Miguel," you say, practically into his mouth. This time he pulls away, and you take a small step back so you don't have to crane your neck. "I, uh…" 

Miguel wipes the sheen from your bottom lip, not not listening but certainly not giving his full attention. He's hoping you'll let him kiss you again.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the flower," you say. 

His eyes lifted to yours. "It's not that. It's not you. Don't waste any time thinking about it, okay?" 

He pinches your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. You hold his eyes for a moment. 

"I don't really think," you say bashfully, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a hug he doesn't have time to reciprocate. 

"You think," he says, blinking as you retreat from him completely, waltzing back to your origami station on the floor. Your hips don't sway, but there's a movement to them he tracks. 

"About you, handsome? All the time." 

Miguel groans and turns back to his screens. Lyla appears silently, and sticks a finger into her mouth in a mock gag. 

"That's in poor taste," he says. 

"I would like to hand in my resignation." 

"You can't resign, Lyla. You're a hologram." 

She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses up her nose and blinks out of view, refusing to speak to Miguel for the rest of the day outside of official Society business, and even then she's cranky. You fill the void of conversation with a mixture of nonsensical and merited suggestions, and by the time you leave for the night, his desk is decorated by a rainbow menagerie of paper animals, each one made with care. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! please consider reblogging if you have the time! <;3 if you have a request of this pairing or other miguel fics and want to share, im eager to see them!

my other miguel fics

[noveauskull]

How Male WUWA Character's React When You Make Them Mad! (NSFW)

characters: jiyan, geshu lin, mortefi, calcharo, yuanwu, aalto, scar x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, brat! reader, brat taming, mating press, spanking, use of toys, punishment, doggy style, overstimulation, passing out, age gap, anal, wall fucking, office sex, cock warming, teasing, orgasm denial, pet names (princess), sir kink (?), choking (asphyxiation)

SCAR:

Scar often finds your little acts cute. He likes it when you hit him or cuss at him, it always makes him feel warm and funny inside when you behave rudely to him, probably cause most of the time the others are scared of him. But even Scar has limits.

He finds you hard to talk with sometimes, whenever he wanted a genuine conversation with you, you'd just tell him to go away, and that does upset him, but he tries to be patient with you and try again next time.

Though he realizes that next time will never come, and he's starting to find your bold antics unamusing. His final straw was when he asked you if you had missed him while he was gone out, and your response was-

"What are you talking about? Stop acting stupid and fetch me the soda bottle"

Yeah, you regret it.

Scar had your knees all the way up to your chest while he fucks your cunt loose with his cock, your nipples and clit being pinched with clips that were connected together through chains, and your ass was stuffed with an anal plug.

He had all your holes filled and sweet spots touched, leaving your mouth gaping open to let your whines and moans free, gasping for air each time you feel the tip of Scar's cock breaking into you to meet with your cervix, you could feel yourself get dizzy from all the sensations.

The clips shaking with every thrust Scar gave you, having it stimulate you by theirselves without him needing to touch them.

Scar would have you talk to him while he rammed himself inside of you, cause if you wouldn't talk with him when he isn't fucking you, then you might as well say a few words when he is fucking you.

"Like I was asking early, did you miss me?" He would ask through pants in every thrust, which you would struggle to answer with.

"Hgh- nmph-! Ugh!" You'd try answering, but your mind can't even focus to tell your mouth to move properly.

"Answer me, baby. Don't make me wait" He'd give you a sharp smack on your ass, making you snap out of the daze he was putting you in.

"H-Hnagh y-yes!! Yes!" You'd cry before hearing him chuckle, giving you a long, wet kiss to reward you.

"You're so cute when you're crying for my cock, I guess this will happen more often if you keep your bratty behavior up~"

-----

JIYAN:

Cussing at him, hitting him, ignoring him, somehow he was fine with it all, he'd even go back to his general duties sometimes, knowing that when the two of you return home he'd have to give you a small talk on why you should be nicer to him, to which you'd just ignore him and flop yourself onto the bed that you two shared.

The one thing that made him snap, was when you poured water onto his head. In public. All because you were upset at him for taking too long with his subordinates at the Midnight Rangers.

You'd wish you hadn't did that to him though, it seems like he really made it clear that there is a limit to how much shit you could throw at a person, especially at him.

The side of your face would be pressed into the covers, ass sticking up for Jiyan's cock to thrust into your leaking pussy, you were probably at your 4th orgasm right now.

The noises your mouth made were lewd, no sane person should be hearing those slutty moans you're letting out as Jiyan destroys your cunt. Your hands gripping onto the sheets to give you some sort of relief from all the pounding he was giving you.

You felt his arms go under your waist to lift you up, making your back press onto his chest, his right hand moving to where your clit is and flicking it, the sudden action made you scream with tears rolling down your cheek.

"S-Sto-" You tried speaking, but it was no use. Jiyan had you right where he wanted you. He's made it clear that he was not going to forgive you unless you let out exactly 10 full orgasms.

You realized that this entire time, Jiyan was only showing you his lenient side, the side of a understanding boyfriend. But right now? He's showing you the side of a General. Harsh, strict and merciless.

Right on your 4th orgasm, you squirted all over his cock and fingers, the entire time while he was pounding you he never once took a break, both for himself or for you, definitely not for you.

He was pounding into you so much that you felt like the tip of his cock was going to pop out of your mouth with each thrust. He throws your body back onto the bed while still rawdogging you. And all you can do was take it and hope you had finished your 10th orgasm the moment you blinked.

By the time you were on your 8th orgasm, you started feeling light headed, and you couldn't feel your pussy, or your entire lower body anymore, even your voice began to sound weak from all the moaning you were doing.

So you gave one final orgasm before passing out. You definitely learned your lesson, to never anger Jiyan and take his patience for granted.

The next day, Jiyan acts like nothing happened. But you're limping with every step as you hold your back like an old lady, making Jiyan chuckle.

"I hope you learned something from this, though I don't mind doing it all over again if you feel unsatisfied"

-----

CALCHARO:

Since Calcharo was a few years older than you, it's natural he thinks of you as an annoying kid whose been raised spoiled your whole life. Which is why he doesn't think much of your poor behavior and tolerates it most of the time.

However, he does get bothered by the way you casually speak to him, such as when you called him an asshole for telling you to not talk bad about others.

His last piece of patience of you would shred to pieces when you called his underdog namplate ugly, disrespecting the tiny drawing of a dog.

You didn't know it was going to get him this upset though, to the point he's pressing your body onto the wall and fucking your ass deeply with every thrust, while your pussy was filled with a thick vibrating dildo.

He ordered you to not let the dildo fall off out, if you did, he'd add onto your punishment by two times, and he'll keep adding onto it until you either pass out or you finally get the hang of it while he cums inside of your ass.

Calcharo would be cumming inside your ass so much you could feel your stomach bloating, it's crazy how pent up he is, and you just happened to be the perfect person to help him relieve his stress.

When you felt yourself cumming, you'd try to hold it in, but having a vibrating dildo inside of you while Calcharo's dick was giving your cervix punches to the gut wasn't helping, all while you were standing too.

The moment you started twitching and shaking while letting out a long and loud moan, you'd try to clench your legs together in hopes that the dildo wouldn't fall off, making you having to overstimulate yourself.

"Apologize" Calcharo says into your ear, his deep voice sounding dangerously calm which alarmed you.

"Apologize now and I'll stop" He offers, his left hand brushing over the tiny bulge he made on your stomach, you could feel his cum in your ass sloshing with every thrust.

"S-Sor- Ungh! S-Sorry! 'M so s-sorry!" You forced out of your mouth in cries, you could feel the dildo vibrating itself out of your pussy, you silently begged that he would say something to excuse the mistake you were about to make by letting the vibrator fall.

But before he could say anything, the dildo drops on the floor, and his palm presses onto your bulge, fingers circling your clit, make your legs shake and your eyes roll back.

"I guess we have to keep going until you've learned your lesson, brat"

-----

MORTEFI:

It's not likely for Mortefi to get angry easily, but for some reason, you're just really good at it.

Like how you would suddenly barge into his room and mess with his paperwork, making his job harder than it is, and you only do this when you feel like he's been focusing on his work more than you, and that makes you very unhappy.

But he won't let you keep up with this behavior, so the next time you barge into his room expecting no one but his stack of papers on his desk, he's already sitting down on his desk, eyes immediately locking in with yours because of how he had already expected your arrival.

Next thing you know you're sitting on top of his lap with his cock buried deep inside you, legs sticking out on the sides of the chair, through the space where the armrests are, and a small vibrator right on your clit, however, it isn't on.

Well, not unless Mortefi wants it to be. Whenever you do so much as move or your pussy twitches around his cock he'd use a small remove control to turn the vibrator on, stimulating you to the point you feel close to orgasming, but stopping whenever he feels your pussy twitch and tighten around him too much, indicating you are close.

And he keeps this up while he does his paperwork, you could beg him to just fuck you but he won't even pretend like he's listening to you, and when you try to move your hips he just sends a sharp smack onto your ass, warning you to keep still.

Mortefi will make you go crazy for hours and hours, just by not moving a muscle, you're surprised he's even able to keep his dick hard all this time, maybe it's gone limp a few times but everytime you twitched around him it'd harden right back up.

The torture would be too much to the point you no longer had an attitude, instead you're hugging him and rolling your hips to create some friction, mumbling words like "I'm sorry, please let me cum" into his ear.

But he still won't move, even when you play nice.

"Sweet talking me won't make my mood any better, you know? You'll just have to wait until I'm done"

-----

AALTO:

He's often very playful with you, and doesn't particularly care when you get pissy with him, he knows he can make it up to you by gifting you expensive accessories or clothes, but sometimes, he would have his limits too.

And being able to make even the most goofiest guy angry is something else. Most likely whenever you call him names like idiot or stupid, you'd be surprised but Aalto isn't a fan of name calling. He finds it unfair that while your names are "Princess", "Sweetheart" or "Baby", his is just mean names that you'd call any nuisance of a person.

He even asked you to give him a cute nickname, but it's like you never heard him once. And at one point in those countless of names you gave him, he's already hit his breaking point.

Aalto would drag you back home, throwing your body that was smaller than his onto the couch and taking off your clothes, when he pulls down your skirt, he immediately connects his lips to your clothed cunt, licking over it to tease you.

You won't know whats happening, as long as you were getting pleasure nothing mattered, but that's what Aalto wants you to think he's doing, instead, he hasn't made any effort to take off the panty you had on the entire time, making it completely soaked with your juices and his saliva.

Even when you bucked your hips forward with your hands on his head to create more friction he wouldn't give you the satisfaction, lessening the pressure of his tongue on your clit or even stopping at times too.

"No can do, princess. I want to hear you call me a cute name, then I'll let you cum" He'd tease, he would be angry, but he's forgotten all about it after seeing your desperate face.

"W-What is it? What do you w-want?!" You panted, face burning from the embarassment you were having, and the inability to cum right away from his kitten licks.

"Hmm, how about sir-"

"P-Please, Sir!! Hurry up, please!!" You cut him off in whines, making him chuckle at your desperation.

"So cute"

He would use his finger to move your panty to the side, finally revealing your soaking wet pussy with juices leaking out of it, he grips your thighs to hold them open before diving in to force orgasms out of you.

You'd already be begging him to stop after 2 orgasms, but he wouldn't, even if you had called him "Sir" countless of times already. It doesn't seem like Aalto was going to back down anytime soon.

"Sorry, princess. But the more you call me that the more it riles me up, give me one more and I'll stop, 'Mkay?"

-----

GESHU LIN:

He doesn't tolerate any kind of behavior from you, and you know this. Yet you seem to always forget that. It's not your fault though, he hasn't been teaching you a lesson whenever you act up these days, of course you're going to forget the consequences.

You really wished you remembered though, cause earlier, you noticed Geshu Lin just walking by the nearby stores in Jinzhou, and you just happened to be walking around Jinzhou with General Jiyan, so you did something unspeakable.

You brought your hands to grip onto Jiyan's biceps, pulling him back to warn him about the cat that was passing by. A mere coincidence, not only did you had a reason to touch General Jiyan but he wouldn't suspect you of doing anything to him, it was just a friend helping another friend.

But Geshu Lin was not taking a single ounce of shit for it.

Before you know it, you're on to bed the two of you lay on, body pressed onto the sheets while your back faces him as he fucks your pussy loose on top of you, making you cry out begging he'd go slower.

Of course he wouldn't though. Instead he goes even faster than before, he would press his body onto yours before moving his arm to your neck, clamping it with the middle of his bicep and forearm while another hand on the top of your head, putting you in a chokehold.

His bicep would be squeezing your neck while he pounded inside you mercilessly, the weight of his body on your own making it even harder for you, it didn't particularly hurt since it was a gentle squeeze, hard enough to give you trouble breathing but not hard enough to leave a mark, yet you could could feel you're losing yourself when your eyes rolled back the moment his arms made contact with your neck.

You'd let out a small whimper, tears rolling down to your face then to his muscular biceps, you've probably already came twice by now while Geshu Lin hasn't even came once.

"Since you love biceps so much you don't mind dying from it, right slut?" He teased you, grinning at the way you struggled to form words.

He would finally cum inside you after you squirted out your 5th orgasm, you could feel yourself slowly passing out before he smacks your ass to wake you up. He wasn't letting you off that easy.

"Get up, brat. I'm not done with you yet, I'm gonna fuck the attitude out of you this time"

-----

YUANWU:

Of course Yuanwu was patient with you, whenever you acted up he'd just pat your head and give you a few kisses, mumbling words like "You're a good girl right? Then behave well" and most of the time you'd listen to him, however of course there are times when you don't.

You were incredibly upset that Yuanwu didn't get you a new dress, he did tell you that he would get it soon and that he was way too busy to get one with you at the moment, but you couldn't care less. His job and his attention to you are two different things.

That's when you decided to take it out on him while you two were getting intimate. Yuanwu would come back home wanting to have a taste of you every now and then and you'd comply just fine, but right now you wanted to make it known that you were not happy.

"Ugh could you go any slower?" You grumbled as he was fucking his cock into your pussy, he brought his head up to look at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden remark.

"Pardon?" The strands of his blue hair would cover his forehead, making him appear younger.

"You heard me, hurry up I want to sleep" You repeated, you didn't know what you were expecting, but you sure as hell wasn't expecting him to just smile at you.

"Okay"

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, yelping at his sudden grip on your hips as he snaps his own forward. You didn't realize it before, but apparently he hadn't been putting his full size inside you a lot, until now.

You'd let out a small scream, feeling his cock plunge into your hole so deep and your cervix getting a hit from his tip, your hole immediately clamping down on his cock, a few of your juices leaking out in the process.

You wouldn't even have the time to let out a small breath before he's snapping his hips back onto your pussy, every thrust making you let out small cries and your eyes tearing up.

"W-Wai- Ugh!" You'd try to hold onto his arms to regain some sort of control, but that didn't help you one bit, instead he'd still have you your hole so used your face would be drenched in tears.

You wouldn't realize it, but he was holding back his anger from you this entire time. What he was doing now was just a small part of it, and the things he was about to do to you later were going to be even worse.

And yet despite him fixing your bratty behavior, he still does it all while smiling, and caressing you, treating you like glass one moment before treating you like a punching bag, thought of course, the only punching he'd be doing to you is when the tip of his cock is punching your cervix.

"You told me to go faster, so that's what I'm doing. What's that? You want me to go slow now? There's no need for that, I'm sure you can handle it, my lady"

-----

A/N: Sorry to the person who requested this! (the one with wuwa men reacts to you telling them to go faster) I thought it would be better to add it into this making wuwa men angry post, so yeah, hitting two birds w one stone 💀✨️✨️

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:

"How is she?"

Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.

Interesting, how some things never quite change.

"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.

"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."

The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.

"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.

"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.

Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"

"A 'yes or no' sort."

"Then yes," he drones his words.

Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.

"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."

"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."

"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."

"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."

But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.

Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.

Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.

But time, like the seas, has no master.

_____

I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.

[tinylilacbun]

Hii

Can I request something with jj and toddler reader?

Basically, Jj works at Country Club (at least I think that is the name of that place he worked that kooks attended) and he's a waiter. Anyways, he's passing from table to table and he begins to notice there is this baby girl who can't be more than three (reader) sitting in one of the tables and is staring at him every time he checks. As soon as he waves a bit at her and she blushes and giggles all embarrased, he understands it right away: this unknown kook kid is having a little crush on him. And he can't deny that is too funny and amusing to him. It all gets even better when he's the one who serves their table.

(reader's parents don't have to be mean even tho that's the kook stereotype. Also, you can add whatever you want🫶)

JJ is cleaning up one of the tables, clenching his jaw when he hears some stuck up kooks complaining about pogues who were being a bit rowdy on figure 8 a few days back.

The country club is the last place he wants to be voluntarily, but the empty fridge and other necessities require him to get a job as a waiter to survive.

Grabbing the few plates he turns to make his way towards the kitchen, glancing through the room he catches a little girl watching him, a adorable smile on her face.

He smirks and goes to the kitchen to place the dirty plates in the sink, making his way out again and sees you still staring at him while your parents try to keep you focused on eating.

JJ keeps making his rounds, taking orders, cleaning tables, or serving food and drinks, but he can feel the little pair of eyes following him and he can't help but smile anytime he catches your gaze on him.

At some point he gives you a small wave and your face flushes up, shying away and pressing your face into your mother's arm who smiles down at you, and JJ watches her leaning down to whisper to you.

As much as JJ hates this job, you somehow manage to make it bearable, at least for today. He passes by your table when your father stops him politely, asking if he could order dessert for you all.

"Sure thing." JJ answers, pulling out the small notebook and a pen, scribbling down what your parents wish to have before he looks directly at you. "And for the little princess?"

You blush and giggle, hiding in the safety of your mother again and she chuckles, rubbing your back. "She's a bit shy."

"Well, how about some ice cream then? Or cake? We even got muffins today." He lists your options and your eyes practically twinkle at the mention of ice cream.

"Ice cream...pwease." You whisper shyly, pulling back to look at him again.

"A'ight." He smiles, leaning down to your level. "I'll make sure to add extra sprinkles." He whispers to you, reaching down to pick up the bunny lovey that fell on the ground and hands it back to you, booping your nose before he turns to get the dessert for your table.

Soon he's carrying everything towards your table, placing the plates and your bowl of ice cream in front of you.

"Thankies!" You smile at him brightly and JJ could swear he never met a toddler, especially a kook, as polite and well behaved as you.

JJ is standing behind the bar counter, cleaning the surface as he sees how your parents pay and get ready to leave, noticing the way you frown and reluctantly get up from your seat.

You take your mother's hand and tug on it to get her attention and she leans down to hear what you want to say, smiling and nodding her head.

JJ smiles when he sees you walking over to him and he squats down. "What's up, cupcake?"

You giggle and hold out a 10 dollar bill. "S'for you..."

He feels his heart skip a beat at how adorable you are, taking the bill from your hand he boops your nose again. "Thank you. Til next time."

You smile at him before dashing off towards your mother and let her pick you up, waving one last time at JJ.

A few days later he unfortunately got fired because his temper flared when Topper made a snarky comment.

Your parents were there the day, luckily without you so you didn't have to witness this, and watched how he stormed out, feeling bad for him and knowing how sad you will be when you find out that you won't see him there again.

But guess who got hired as your new babysitter?

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[sajajhsbz]

Jealous

Pairing: Sodo Ghoul x reader

summary: Since you joined the band, Sodo has been hostile towards you, but you would have never guessed the reason was jealousy...

warnings: Smut| fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, choking, and spanking.

"it's not my fault y/n can't play fucking right"

"I can't play? Please Sodo you got half the fucking song wrong"

"fuck you"

"you wish"

"ok ok ok" Copia intervened "Let's all calm down a moment and take a break, alright? Sodo" He nodded to him "Go have a smoke"

A grumbled "fine" echoed off the rehearsal room as he walked off, slamming the door behind him.

"god he's such a fucking drama queen" you sighed, having a sip of your water as you sat down between Phantom and Swiss.

"he always has to shout- and always at me! I honestly don't get what I've done to make him hate me so much"

They exchanged a look, a smirk playing on their lips.

"I don't think he hates you, sweetheart"

you snorted " 'sure looks like it"

"I think it's actually quite the opposite"

"What, that he wants to fuck me?" you asked, rolling your eyes "You all do, you perverts" you teased "And if that's the case, yelling won't get him anywhere"

they chuckled "We know baby, but you know how he is..."

"yeah, an asshole"

just then the door opened, Sodo's still clearly tense figure emerging from it.

"yeah" somebody whispered in response, but you were focused on him.

Copia asked him something, but his eyes set on Swiss's hand you hadn't even noticed was placed on your thigh.

He emitted a grunt that spurt of jealousy to answer Copia, and your eyes met for just a moment.

You definitely took note of that.

__ __ __

Only you, Phantom, and Sodo were left in the rehearsal room, as always the ones taking the longest.

You laughed at a funny remark Phantom made and slapped his shoulder playfully as you finished packing your stuff.

"oh I almost forgot" you recalled "Here is your pick," you said, fishing it out of your pocket to hand it to him.

"don't worry, keep it"

"Are you sure? Didn't you have this since you were young?"

"I did, but I want you to have it"

Your lips turned into that happy pout he adored

"thank you so much!" you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He hesitantly hugged you back

"you were always my favorite" you whispered into his ear, sensing how he shivered under you

"thank you, handsome," you said again, kissing his cheek for a moment more than necessary before letting him go.

"n-no worries" he shook his head, poorly attempting at hiding his blushing cheeks.

He picked up his things as quickly as he could before rushing to the door.

"Uh-Uh, I-I'll see you later"

"bye handsome" you chuckled, watching him scurry to his room.

A loud sigh came from your right, and you caught Sodo rolling his eyes as you turned around

"oh don't worry you're handsome too" you teased, walking to him.

"You gave the poor kid a hard-on just for fun?"

"no, not just for fun, I'll take care of it later"

And there it was, that tick of his jaw as jealousy darkened his eyes.

"what, you're jealous?"

He avoided your gaze, pretending to be busy with his guitar's chords.

"you can tell me if you are..."

"I'm not" he spat

"so you're saying you haven't thought about me that way? that you haven't fucked your fist just last night imagining it was me?" you mocked, a sly smirk playing on your lips "We have really thin walls y'know?"

"fuck off"

You let out a dramatic sigh "Fine, then I guess I'll go keep Phantom some company since you seem to have a stick up your ass" you said, walking to the door, but before you could reach it, his hand grabbed your wrist, turning you around.

"I knew it" you grinned, as he stared right into your soul with his frozen eyes.

"shut up"

you smirked, ghosting his mouth, "Make me"

And at that, he'd had enough.

he crashed his mouth with yours, devouring you as if you were a fucking meal and him a starved man.

His tongue moved into your mouth, exploring all you had to offer as his hand gripped and groped like it was their duty.

He slammed you against the door, making you wince as your head hit the hardwood, he couldn't have cared less as he finally got a taste of what he'd been dreaming about for a whole year.

He didn't know why he had refrained for so long. He hated himself for wanting you this much, and all that hate was oftentimes wrongly pointed at you.

You let out a quiet whimper as he started sucking on your neck, your hand going straight to his long hair.

"see now, it wasn't so hard" you mocked him in between breaths "You could have told me earlier that this was all you wanted"

"I thought I'd told you to shut up"

You chuckled "you did"

"God you're such a fucking brat" his hold on your waist tightened "I think you need something to keep that mouth busy" he smirked "and as much as I'd like to see you kneel before me, I don't think you've earned my cock just yet" he taunted you, seeing the way your eyes had sparked at the proposal.

His hand traveled up your body until two of his long fingers reached your bottom lip.

"Be a good girl and show me how good you'd suck my dick"

You wasted no time taking them in your mouth, closing your eyes as you pretended it was his cock.

He groaned at the sight "Just like that-" he said, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as saliva pulled from your puffy lips.

You hadn't even noticed his other hand sneaking beneath your skirt, until you felt his thumb press to your clothed core

Your eyes snapped open as a muffled gasp attempted to flee your throat

"Yeah, I like you much better when you can't talk" he nodded, looking proud of himself.

"don't you even think about stopping" he growled, eyeing your lips as his fingers found their way inside your panties "if you do, so do I" he threatened, gathering some of your slick on his middle and ring finger and teasing your entrance with them

You moaned, but didn't need to be told twice as you resumed bobbing your head to suck on his digits.

"that's a good girl" he smirked in approval as he pushed his fingers inside of you, leaving you breathless.

"so wet for me" he murmured, kissing your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just to the right spot "Such a good slut"

Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head with every movement of his skilled fingers, but you still tried to focus on your task, although his sucking on your neck really didn't help.

"aw, you're already coming aren't you" he cooed, feeling you tighten around him "poor baby" he continued, raising his head to look at you.

"you think you deserve to cum?" he asked, fastening his pace and causing your knees to buckle.

You eagerly nodded, giving him your best doe eyes

Yes I do, please,is what you would have said, if your mouth hadn't been so busy at the moment.

"yes? That's what you think?"

you nodded again

"We'll I don't" his movements cruelly came to a stop "all that teasing... that's not what good girls do now, do they?" he asked, his fingers leaving both your cunt and mouth.

"please" you begged, eyes suddenly teary

he chuckled "That's a sight I thought I'd never see, you begging me"

You wanted to punch him, but god, did you also want to come.

"please sodo" you prayed, bringing your hands to the tent in his pants "please" you breathed

"oh is that what you want? My cock?"

you nodded

"how come you don't use that mouth of yours when you should?"

"yes, sorry, yes, please fuck me"

"I don't know..." he taunted, but this time, you were ready to fight back.

"I know you want to" you spoke sultrily, slowly getting rid of your shirt "I know you've been dreaming about it since I first joined the band" You unhooked your bra and let it fall to your feet before slowly starting to stoke his erection "I know yo-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as he had gripped your hair, forcing your head up to look at him.

"You really are a fucking brat y'know" he grunted, suddenly turning you so that your head was pressed against the door "can't keep that mouth of yours shut for the life of you" he growled, as he undid his zipper.

His hand on your head traveled to the back of your neck, keeping you still, as his other hand gripped his cock and positioned it at your entrance.

"I'll see how you do with my cock deep inside you" he smirked, pushing into you without any warning.

"fuck" you screamed at the stretch. As much as he had gotten you ready, it still hurt deliciously.

" 'S too big for you?" he taunted, rolling his hips "I thought more of you sweetheart"

"shut up" you moaned, "just-please fucking move"

"don't have to ask twice" he snickered, as he started fucking you at a brutal pace.

"f-fuck- 'feels so-so good" you cried out, letting him use you like a doll.

You could feel him everywhere

"Yeah? Phantom makes you cry like this too, Swiss, any of the others?"

"So jealous..." you smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye.

He grunted as he slapped your ass in response "You really just can't help it, can you?" he asked, the hand on the back of your neck moving to the front of it and squeezing it tight.

A fire spread over your body, as a wave of pleasure took over you.

"look at you" he mocked "Finally fucking quiet" he murmured, bending down to whisper in your ear as his thrust didn't give signs of slowing "and all it took was my cock in your pussy and my hand around your throat" he bit your earlobe, making you cry out even louder "If I'd known, I would have done this a long time ago. Would have saved me so many headaches..."

And once again, the urge to punch him was overtaken by the need to come.

You were a mess. The only sound your throat could make were shameless moans as he pounded into you like it was his life-long duty to split you in fucking half.

"Such a good little slut for m-

A knock at the door distracted the both of you, but he didn't stop whatsoever.

"I FORGOT MY PHONE IN THERE!"

It was Swiss

"WE'RE BUSY!" Sodo yelled back, starting to fuck you harder again

"YEAH, I CAN HEAR. BUT I REALLY NEED IT"

A loud moan climbed your throat as Sodo's thumb found your clit.

You had a suspicion that was exactly his goal.

"GO THE FUCK AWAY"

"MAN C'MON I'M HAPPY YOU FINALLY FUCKED BUT I STILL NEED MY FUCKING PHONE"

You would have laughed if you hadn't been so cock drunk

"I SWEAR SWISS, IF YOU DON'T WALK AWAY RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU"

"FINE, BUT YOU OWE ME"

"WHATEVER, JUST GO!"

"I AM"

Your moans had gotten louder in the meantime, and your legs were shaking as your orgasm approached rapidly.

"Fuck- I can feel you squeezing me sweetheart" he groaned "you wanna cum?"

"Please" was all you could muster

"scream my name as loud as you fucking can, ok?"

You nodded,

"good girl" he kept his pace "Good. fucking. girl"

And at that, a wildfire ignited in your body as your orgasm took over every inch of your being.

You quite literally screamed his name as you came, and just as you started to recover from the life-changing climax, you felt him still inside of you, as thick ropes of his come filled you up to the brim.

He pulled out of you and all you could do was smile as you turned to him.

"swiss is pissed"

"yeah well, I don't give a shit, I just had the best fuck of my life"

"you'll have to make it up to him"

"I have no idea how"

"I do"

"do tell"

And at that, you giggled, as you raised yourself on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear

"we should let him join next time"

[wholoveseggs]

Rules {Part Four}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Four

Tonight is the night of the dinner party and tensions are running high. Caught between the love for your family and your own desires, things take a dramatic turn when you make a choice you can't take back.

♡♡ I finally get to write about my #1 favorite TVD moment! The Dinner Partyyy! {the campyiness, the tension, the dramaaaa... Its peak TVD} Hope you enjoy! PS: there will be a part five ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, no smut, lots and lots of drama, so much angst, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, Damon being over-protective, finally adding some proper Stefan moments to the plot, Elena being Elena, my sweet angel ♡ ANDIE STARRR ♡ , vervain, tension, violence, john gilbert & chocolate mousse...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Five}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123

You sat in front of your vanity, outlining your lips with a deep shade of red, finishing off the look with a dab of gloss.

Damon didn't tell you any details of what he was planning, beyond having a weapon that could kill an Original, which would have seemed absurd if it wasn't your brother. You knew what he was capable of. 

Damon had left not too long ago, telling you he was going to lunch with his girlfriend Andie, and would be back later.

All you knew was that there would be a dinner party tonight and if Elijah showed up, Damon was going to kill him. 

Your phone rang and you glanced over to see Stefan's name on the screen, your pressed speaker, and went back to applying your lipstick.

"Hey," You said, pressing your lips together and checking the color.

"Hello," Stefan replied, sounding a bit tense.

"How's your trip with Elena going?" You asked, grabbing a tube of mascara.

"Well as it can be," he said vaguely.

"I guess you know about the deal then? Elena is willing to die for you, that's very sweet," you said casually, applying the mascara to your eyelashes.

"When did you get so callous? She isn't a martyr, she's just naive," he sighed.

You felt a pang of guilt for teasing him. He was right, Elena was kind and gentle, and both of your brothers loved her.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I know how you feel about her," You said, trying to sound comforting. "It's just that she possesses an unfortunate face,"

Stefan let out a humorless chuckle, and sighed. "Katherine's face,"

"Yeahhhh," you laughed.

"Funny you should mention her, Elena has been reading some old journals written by Johnathan Gilbert," Stefan explained. "It's brought up a lot of memories,"

"Didn't you eat him?" You asked, screwing the cap onto the mascara.

His silence was an answer in and of itself.

"Are you afraid that if Elena learns about your lovely alter-ego she won't love you anymore?" You teased.

"This is serious," he sighed.

"Ok, ok, sorry," You said, standing up and smoothing out your dress. "Always so uptight,"

"Not everyone has it so easy, sister," he grumbled.

"What does that mean?" You asked, your tone slightly offended.

"It's nothing," he sighed.

"No, no. Please, speak your mind," You said, rolling your eyes.

"You've always just been good at it," He began, you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

"At what?" You snapped, pacing around your room.

"Being a vampire," He said bluntly. "You claim to loathe Katherine, yet you aren't that different,"

You didn't know what to say, his words cut you. How dare he compare you to the woman who destroyed your life, turned you and your brothers into monsters. Kept them under her toxic spell while you watched them suffer.

"That's not fair, Stefan," You said softly, feeling hurt and defensive.

"Isn't it?" He asked.

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say, you just stared out the window, the sun shining brightly outside.

"Anyway, I don't have time to debate your morals," Stefan continued. "I'm just calling to tell you to watch out for Damon, killing Elijah won't be easy, he will need your help,"

"And here I thought you didn't trust me," You said, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

"I trust you more than anyone," he said softly.

You wanted to tell him everything, how guilty and ashamed you felt. You didn't even know why you were feeling these things, Elijah was nothing to you, but you couldn't stop thinking about him, the pain in his eyes, the coldness in his voice, it haunted you.

And now you were going to kill him, Stefan was right... You weren't so different from Katherine.

"Then, trust me when I say, I'll handle it," You said, keeping your tone casual.

"Ok," he said, though his voice sounded hesitant. "Please be careful,"

"I will," you said softly, before ending the call.

You sat down on your bed and pulled on a pair of black velvet pumps. They were tall, and made your legs look amazing. You checked your lipstick and smoothed out your dress, and headed downstairs.

Damon was just arriving home, with Andie in tow. They were carrying bags of groceries, and setting them down in the kitchen.

"Hi, Andie," You smiled.

"Hello darlin," she said, her voice cheery, like always. "Don't tell me that your brother roped you into this mess,"

"Mess?" You asked, raising an eyebrow, giving Damon a questioning look.

"Andie doesn't believe in my abilities to cook," Damon rolled his eyes.

"Damon has a tendency to go overboard with things," she laughed.

Neither of them were actually talking about the cooking. Damon had obviously told her about his plans for the night.

"What are we serving tonight, then?" You asked, giving him a warning look.

"A nice rack of lamb, roasted vegetables, some salad..." Damon trailed off, looking around the kitchen. "Annnd... A dessert that will be sure to knock our guest's socks off,"

You and Andie made eye contact and she smiled, trying not to laugh.

"Sounds lovely, brother," You smiled, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder. "How can I help?"

Damon gave Andie a pointed look and she nodded and left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone to chat.

"So," he began, as he pulled out a box of matches and lit the burner on the stove. "Change of plans,"

"Change?" You asked, leaning against the counter, crossing your arms.

"I need you to stay upstairs, away from the party," He said, avoiding your eyes.

"What?!" You said, glaring at him. "Why?"

"Because Jenna is coming, and she thinks you are Elena's age... I can't have her asking too many questions," Damon explained.

"That's such bullshit!" You growled, pushing off the counter. "You can't do this on your own,"

"Yes I can," he scoffed.

"So, what? I'm just supposed to stay hidden away in my room, twiddling my thumbs while you try and kill Elijah?" You asked, getting more irritated by the second.

"Yeah, pretty much," He said, his tone casual. "And when it's done you can help me dispose of the body,"

"Are you being fucking serious?" You spat.

"Relax," he chuckled.

"How am I supposed to relax when I know you are going to get yourself killed?!" You asked, throwing your hands in the air.

Damon put down the pan he was holding and turned around, walking over to you and getting in your face, his eyes wild and bright.

"Despite you being a ravenous little killer, you are still my baby sister," he said, his voice soft, but his eyes were still angry. "I was wrong to ask you for help, it's my job to protect you, not put you in harm's way,"

You didn't like this one bit, Damon was stubborn and headstrong, and once his mind was made up, there was no changing it. It infuriated you, the way he saw you as this helpless damsel. Yet, you weren't surprised, he had a tendency to go overboard with things and forget logic. The fact that you were a vampire and could handle yourself was something he often forgot.

You felt humiliated and helpless, and that made you angry, so fucking angry.

"Fuck you," You snapped, turning on your heel, storming out of the kitchen, Damon called after you, but you ignored him, slamming the door to your room shut.

You stood in the middle of the room, feeling a wave of emotion hit you. This wasn't like you, you never let yourself feel like this, so out of control. The last time you felt anything like this was years ago, when you were human.

You hated that feeling, the way your stomach would twist, and your heart would ache. But it wasn't because of Damon... It was because of Elijah.

The sound of the guests arriving floated up to your bedroom. You were sitting on your bed, a glass of wine in hand. You had been drinking all evening, trying to numb the anger, the sadness, and the regret.

The plan was already in motion, there was no stopping it now. Elijah was going to die, and you were told to stay put and let it happen.

You picked up the voices of several familiar people, Alaric, Jenna, Andie, even Elena's estranged father John. All chatting happily, blissfully unaware of your presence upstairs. 

You looked down into your glass, you could see your vague reflection in the dark liquid. You couldn't stand the sight of yourself, the guilt, the shame… it was eating away at you, no longer could you sit there and wallow in it. 

Fuck it, you thought. You finished the glass off with one large gulp and got up, walking over to the full-length mirror.

Your hair was down, the curls flowing down past your breasts, and your makeup was perfect, smoky eyes and deep red lips. All dressed up and nowhere to go, nobody to see.

You headed down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible, peeking through the railing on the stairs to see if anyone was there.

Then you heard Elijah's voice, it was hushed and cold, and the words were unintelligible, but it was him, and your heart skipped a beat.

You inched closer, straining your ears, desperate to hear more.

"Can I just say that if you have less than honorable intentions about how this evening is going to proceed, I suggest you reconsider."

His tone was dark and threatening, and you knew Damon would be on the receiving end.

"No, nothing, nothing dishonorable. Just getting to know you," Damon replied, and you could picture his cocky smile.

"Hmm. Well, that's good," Elijah sounded skeptical, and you could hear him walking inside and closing the door.

"Because, you know, although Elena and I have this deal, if you so much as make a move to cross me, I'll kill you and I'll kill everyone in this house. Are we clear?" Elijah's tone was firm and unwavering, and you could sense the tension.

You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves, and walked down the stairs. Your feet a bit wobbly in your heels, the wine was catching up with you.

Everyone was looking at you by the time you got to the bottom, and you were sure your face was flushed, your cheeks pink. But all you could see was Elijah. His dark eyes watching you, and your heart was racing. Surely he wouldn't kill you in front of all these people.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us," Damon chuckled nervously, walking up to you and putting his arm around your shoulder, squeezing you forcefully. "This isn't a party for teenagers, sweet sister,"

The tension was thick, and it was clear that Damon didn't want you there.

"I just wanted to come say hello, I was getting bored upstairs," You said casually, pulling away from him.

"Oh, c'mon Damon, it's alright. She can stay for the food," said Jenna, giving you a warm smile. She was so kind, you didn't want to see her get hurt.

"No, really. She should be going, right sis?" Damon said, glaring at you.

"No, I think I'm gonna stay, I was promised dinner, after all," You replied, meeting his eyes, defiance shining in them.

Elijah cleared his throat, stepping towards you and Damon, his face neutral. "Nice to meet you Miss Salvatore," he took your hand and kissed it, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Damon was looking at Elijah like he wanted to rip his throat out, and you had to resist the urge to smirk.

"And you, Mr. Smith," You replied, trying to hide your amusement.

Elijah gave you a knowing look, and a small smile formed on his lips.

"Call me Elijah," He replied, still holding your hand.

"Elijah, then," You nodded, a shiver running down your spine as his thumb traced your wrist.

You had no idea why he was acting so casual, he had to know this was a trap, and he was just standing there, touching you.

"Ok, now that everyone knows each other, let's eat," Andie cut in, leading everyone to the dining room.

Before you could follow, Damon grabbed your arm and pulled you aside, his expression one of pure rage.

"What are you doing?" Damon growled.

"Having dinner," You said, pushing him off and brushing past him, walking into the dining room.

The only empty seat available was next to Elijah, who grew stiff when you approached him.

"Is this ok?" You asked, smiling sweetly.

He nodded, pulling the chair out for you, and pushing it back in once you were seated, always the gentleman.

Everyone was seated, and the dinner party was in full swing. Jenna and Andie asked Elijah all about the local history of Mystic Falls, and he bullshitted his way through, telling them stories of the old families that founded the town, local folklore tales, and other nonsense.

Elijah seemed to relax a bit, although he was purposely avoiding looking or speaking to you, his gaze focused elsewhere. But every once in a while you could feel his hand brush yours under the table, making your skin tingle.

You were drinking wine like it was water, and you could feel the effect it was having on you. The world was fuzzy, and everything was so funny. You would giggle or let out an inappropriate snort whenever Elijah would talk, and your face was flush and hot.

"Not to be a party pooper but aren't you a little young to be drinking?" John Gilbert said, looking at you, his eyes narrowing.

You glared at him, raising an eyebrow, he knew that you were a vampire, four times his age no less. But you weren't about to argue in front of sweet and innocent Jenna, who had no clue about the existence of the monsters she was surrounded by.

"She can have a glass, as her guardian I allow it," Damon said casually, not bothering to look up from his plate.

"Ahh, I see, I suppose the rules are a bit more lax when you have Damon as a parent," John added, his expression bitter and cold.

"I think she's had more than a glass," Andie said softly, her tone was concerned as she looked you over.

You felt Elijah's hand come to rest on your thigh under the table, it made your heart skip a beat and Damon look up from his plate.

"She's fine," Damon said, his tone final.

The other guests exchanged awkward glances, Alaric cleared his throat uncomfortably and Jenna and Andie both had worried expressions on their faces.

Elijah's hand was moving higher up your thigh, and it was making your face flush, and you were starting to get wet.

You had no idea why he was touching you, considering he wanted to kill you. But you supposed there is a fine line between lust and loathing.

As soon as everyone finished their meal, Andie got up and Damon gave her a pointed look, whatever he had planned had just begun.

"The gentlemen should take their drinks in the study," she said, giving everyone a smile, her gaze lingering on Elijah.

"I have to say the food was almost as wonderful as the company," Elijah said, smiling at her, and standing up.

"I like you," Andie said softly, returning his smile.

You watched as the men left, Damon looked back at you before he followed them, giving you a wink, and closing the door.

You were fuming, the wine making you angrier than usual, you went to follow but Andie intercepted you, handing you a pile of plates.

Sighing, you reluctantly carried them to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"Here, let me help," Jenna smiled, taking the glasses from your hands.

"It's fine," You said, forcing a smile.

"Come, drink some water, your face is flushed," Andie said, handing you a glass.

"No more for you," John added, pouring the leftover wine down the drain.

You scowled at all three of them, lecturing you like you were a child. They had no idea what you were capable of, the things you've done. They wouldn't treat you like this if they did.

You took the water, glaring at them, and chugged it, setting the glass down with a little more force than necessary.

Alaric came rushing into the kitchen with a wild look in his eye. He made eye contact with you, and he was out of breath.

"We forgot dessert!" He said, sounding panicked.

"What?" Andie asked, confused.

"Dessert!" Alaric repeated, his body practically vibrating with fear.

Whatever was going on, it definitely wasn't about dessert.

"I can make a chocolate mousse...?" Jenna began, trailing off, looking at Alaric with confusion.

"Perfect! Let's go tell Damon and Elijah," Alaric said in a rush, motioning to Andie who gave him a questioning look but followed him out.

"What is going on?" Jenna asked, turning to you, her eyes wide.

"No idea," You lied, shrugging, hoping to sound convincing.

As soon as Jenna had her back turned, you slipped out of the kitchen and headed for the dining room.

Everyone had already returned, and the tension was palpable. Alaric looked stressed and Damon was smirking, which was a sure sign of a disaster.

Damon and John were seated on opposite ends of the table, glaring at each other, while Elijah sat in center. Andie and Alaric were behind him, rummaging through her bag for some reason.

"What I'd like to know, Elijah, is how do you intend on killing Klaus?" John said sharply, looking over his wine glass at him.

It seemed that the dinner party discussions had finally turned to the real business at hand, you inched into the room quietly, trying not to draw any attention.

"Gentlemen, there's a few things we should probably get clear right now. I allow you to live solely to keep an eye on Elena. I allow Elena to remain in her house living her life with her friends as she does as a courtesy. If you become a liability, I'll take her away from you and you'll never see her again." Elijah's eyes flickered to you, but only for a second.

Before Damon or John had a chance to respond, Andie returned with her notebook in hand, sitting down across from Elijah, ready to interview him, "Okay. My first question is when you got here to Mystic..."

Suddenly, time seemed to slow down, you watched Alaric approach Elijah from behind, an ornate looking dagger in his hand, ready to stab him in the back.

You moved without thinking, lunging at Alaric, wrapping your hand around his wrist and snapping it with ease, causing the dagger to fall to the floor with a clatter.

Alaric crumbled to the floor in pain, looking up at you in shock.

The room suddenly exploded into action, dark veins spread beneath Elijah's eyes, and he lunged at Damon, knocking him over the table and onto the ground, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him into the air, his eyes ablaze.

John grabbed Andie, pulling her out of the way, while Alaric crawled along the floor, cradling his wrist.

You grabbed Elijah's arm, trying to pry him off of Damon.

"Don't! Let him go!" You shouted, struggling against him, his muscles were tensed, and his grip was tight, he wasn't budging.

Elijah looked over his shoulder at you, his dark eyes cold and angry. You gave him a pleading look, trying to convey how important it was that he listened.

"Please, he's my brother, please don't hurt him," You said, your voice breaking as your tears began to flow.

He dropped Damon, who fell to the floor with a thud, coughing and sputtering.

Elijah looked around the room at all the frightened faces, then to the floor where the dagger was lying and picked it up, examining it.

"Clever boy," Elijah looked at Alaric, shaking his head and tsking. "I haven't seen one of these in quite some time,"

He moved to attack Alaric but you jumped in front of him, shielding him with your body.

"Please don't kill him," You pleaded, putting your hands on his chest, trying to push him back.

He was immovable, but his gaze softened when his eyes met yours and he put the dagger in his jacket pocket. His eyes went back to Damon, who was still on the floor, glaring at him.

"Please, don't hurt anyone," You repeated, your hand moving to his hair, running your fingers through it.

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, his shoulders sagging, the tension leaving his body.

"Get away from my sister," Damon snarled, his voice rough from being choked.

Elijah looked at Damon, giving him a wicked smile and wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him, your face pressed against his chest.

"Oh, she doesn't mind," Elijah smirked, looking at Damon with smug satisfaction.

Damon looked from you to Elijah, his expression a mixture of disbelief and pure rage. His brain couldn't quite compute what he was seeing.

"What did I say?" Elijah began, pausing to pretend he was pondering, "Oh yes! If you so much as make a move to cross me, I'll kill you and I'll kill everyone in this house,"

Your hands curled into his shirt, tugging on it, looking at him pleadingly. His dark eyes went to yours, and his gaze softened, he kissed you on the cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

"Fortunately for you, your lovely sister has been most gracious in her hospitality," He said, looking over your head at Damon.

You were visibly shaken up, looking at your brother with tear filled eyes, your hands trembling against Elijah's chest. He lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him instead of your devastated looking brother.

"So much for rule one," he said quietly, kissing the corner of your mouth.

Damon was seething, his fists clenched, and he was practically shaking with anger.

"Now, I hate to cut this evening short, but it seems I've overstayed my welcome," Elijah sighed, pulling away from you, his tone neutral.

"And as for you. Let me be perfectly clear, if you, or anyone else, attempt something like this again, I will kill you. No mercy. Understood?" Elijah asked, looking directly at Damon.

"Yes," Damon said, his voice dripping with venom.

"Wonderful. Now, I think it's time for me to take my leave," Elijah turned and began to walk out, "I'll be in touch," he called over his shoulder.

As soon as Elijah left, all eyes were on you. Damon's angry glare made you squirm, and the disgusted expressions from Andie, Alaric and John made you feel deep shame. You needed to get out of there.

But before you could , Damon grabbed you, the speed blowing your hair back. His hand went to your neck and he threw you against the wall, his fingers crushing your windpipe.

"Are you crazy? You’re fucking Elijah? ELIJAH?" He yelled right in your face, his rage so uncontrolled he lashed out and hit the wall beside your head, causing the plaster to crack and break.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He continued, his eyes wild, spit flying from his mouth.

"Damon," Andie said softly, stepping forward to calm him. John held her back, helping Alaric to his feet and pulling them both out of the room. John knew better than to get between Damon and his wrath.

"How did this happen? How did he get to you?" He shook you harder, causing the plaster dust to rain down. "Did he compel you? I told you to drink vervain every day!"

You kneed him in the stomach, forcing him to drop you, and you gasped for air.

"No! He didn't compel me, he would never," You snapped, rubbing your neck. "I...I care for him,"

Damon stared at you, his breathing ragged, and his expression completely blank. Then he started to laugh, it was devoid of any warmth, it was all bitterness and mockery.

"Care for him? What is he, your boyfriend? Did he ask you to go steady in-between planning Elena's murder?" Damon sneered.

"That's not fair," You said, scowling, folding your arms. 

"So he's the reason you've been so distant? The reason you've been acting so weird? What, he's using you to get to Elena, isn't he?" Damon was pacing back and forth, his hands in his hair.

"No... We never discus-" You tried to explain.

"This is unbelievable," He groaned, cutting you off, and walking over to the liquor cart, pouring himself a drink, then he froze.

"Please tell me you didn't fuck him in this house," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"Not exactly...," You trailed off, averting your gaze, biting your lip.

Damon downed his drink and smashed the glass against the wall, "Fuck, Y/N, do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I had a plan! Everything just spiraled out of control," You said, your voice shaking, feeling overwhelmed and frustrated. "I tried... I tried to steal the moonstone, for you! For us! He caught me and... and I was stupid. I'm sorry.”

"So you thought you could pull a honeypot on an original?" Damon looked completely dumbfounded, and a little impressed. "Are you insane? Or just dumb?"

His words cut you deeply, mostly because they were the same things you had said to yourself, a million times.

"I thought it would work," You shrugged, your arms dropping, you were feeling defeated.

"And I suppose letting him fuck you was an added bonus, huh?" Damon shot back.

"Yes!" You screamed, frustrated, throwing your hands up. "I like him, Damon! He's interesting and attractive and he treats me like an equal!"

Damon snorted, "Because he thinks you're a slut."

That stung, he had never called you that before and tears sprang to your eyes. You glared at him, as they began to spill down your cheeks. You were done arguing with him, and you were done listening to him. He didn't understand, and you had nothing more to say.

Without another word, you pulled the dagger out of your bra, you had managed to remove it from Elijah's pocket without anyone noticing. You threw it at the floor at Damon's feet and stormed off.

Damon looked at the dagger, his brow furrowed, then back up at the spot you had just occupied, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had made you cry.

You ran to your room and crawled under the covers, letting all your pent up emotions flow out of you, coming out in gasps and hiccups. You had no idea what to do, you didn't want to choose between your family and Elijah. You didn't want to be forced to pick a side. 

You didn't want to have to give up what you felt when you were around him.

You didn't know how.

It had been a few hours since the disastrous dinner party. You were still laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events over and over again in your mind.

You heard Damon leave not long after your argument. You had no idea where he ran off too. Knowing him, he went to find more trouble. Part of you regretted the fight, the other part of you wanted to strangle him.

You were exhausted, physically and emotionally. It was like every single part of your being was weighed down.

Just then you heard a loud commotion downstairs, the voices of your brothers and Elena floated up to you. There was a strange scraping sound, like they were dragging something heavy across the floor.

You quickly got up to investigate, hopping down the stairs, stopping suddenly in front of a very nervous looking Elena.

"What happened?" You asked, trying to look past her to your brothers.

"Damon told me what happened," She said softly, reaching out to touch you. But you spotted a pair of legs being dragged away towards the stairs leading to the basement.

Your eyes went wide as you figured out whose legs they were. Panic swept over you, and you pushed past Elena and rushed to the basement after them.

Stefan and Damon were throwing Elijah's body into the cell, he looked gray and cold, the dagger sticking out of his chest.

"Elijah! No, no, no," You cried, screaming and trying to get past your brothers. But they were too strong for you, holding you back, and quickly closing the gates.

"Let me go!" You punched at Damon's chest, desperate to get inside the cell, tears streaming down your face.

Damon just held you, refusing to release you, your screams filling the small basement.

Stefan locked the door, following you and Damon upstairs. You were kicking and fighting like a crazy woman, begging them to let you see him.

Once you made it upstairs, Stefan grabbed you and held you in his arms, still you fought and cried for him, despite his pleas for you to stop.

"Please calm down," Stefan begged, holding onto you tightly.

"He came to take Elena, we had no choice," Damon said, his voice sounding tired, like this had been an exhausting evening for him.

"He promised me he wouldn't," You said, your voice cracking, your throat raw.

"He lied, Y/N, that's what he does," Damon replied, sounding exasperated.

"Shut up!" You screamed, jerking out of Stefan's arms and rushing at Damon, your fist connecting with the side of his face. "You did this! He wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't provoked him!"

You managed to hit him twice, splitting his lip, before Stefan grabbed you again, pulling you back.

"Knock it off!" Stefan said sharply, giving you a firm shake. You stopped struggling for a moment, panting.

Elena came and stood next to Damon, looking more sad than angry. She wasn't sure what to say, or what to do in this situation.

"I love him Stefan, please," you begged, sniffling. It was the first time you could admit it out loud, to anyone, to yourself and you wished it was Elijah you could have told first. "You have to let me see him, even if he's dead...I just have to see him."

Your words cut through Stefan's heart. Trembling in his arms, he had never seen you so distraught and in pain. He looked over your head at Damon and Elena, silently asking for permission.

"Fine, I'll take you, but only because you'll probably burn the house down if I don't," Damon said, rolling his eyes.

Stefan let you go and you immediately ran down the stairs, your feet skidding slightly on the concrete floor. You rushed into the cell and fell to your knees beside Elijah's body.

"lijah," you said softly, trying to coax him out of sleep.

He was gray, covered in dark veins, his skin felt cold. Your fingers trembled as you touched his face, your fingers running through his hair.

You laid down next to him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the lack of heartbeat. You lay there for a few minutes, crying to yourself.

You could feel Damon watching you, and it pissed you off.

"Please leave me alone," You said softly, your voice breaking, not bothering to turn and look at him.

Damon was standing there, leaning against the wall, his arms folded, and he looked at you thoughtfully.

"He's dangerous, and he's using you," Damon replied.

"He never learned anything from me!" You snapped, glaring at him, the anger boiling over. "We had an agreement, an understanding! It wasn't like that!"

Damon shook his head, and looked away from you.

"You can't be in love with him. You barely know him." Damon was trying his hardest to get you to see sense.

"Maybe, maybe I'm not," You lied, sniffling, "I just feel like there's something there, something real and I've never felt this way before,"

Damon let out an exasperated sigh, and closed his eyes.

"This will end badly, I'm not going to try and convince you anymore. You're too damn stubborn," He said, opening his eyes and looking down at you.

"Can you bring me a blanket and pillow?" You asked, changing the subject.

"No," Damon said, turning on his heel and leaving the basement.

"Asshole," You muttered, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

A few minutes later, Stefan came down the stairs, carrying a blanket and a pillow, and a bottle of bourbon.

"Thanks," You smiled weakly, taking the blanket and covering yourself with it. You took the pillow and gently lifted Elijah's head, placing the pillow underneath him.

"Is he really dead?" You asked quietly, not looking at Stefan, staring at Elijah's face.

Stefan let out a long sigh, he hated seeing you like this, the sight of you curled up next to a corpse was not a normal one.

I'm not entirely sure," he knelt down, crossing his legs and he sat on the floor next to you. "but he isn't alive either, he's frozen, asleep,"

He reached out and touched your shoulder, turning you to look at him.

"Damon wants to keep him on ice, he doesn't trust Elijah and... neither do I," he tried to say it gently, wanting you to know the truth. "if you wake him up, he will kill us for what we've done... Elena tricked him... He will not be happy,"

"Maybe he will forgive us," you said, looking at him with hopeful eyes, "what if he can feel everything? He must be so scared and lonely,"

"Do you really think he can feel fear?" Stefan asked, raising an eyebrow. "My impression of him is that he isn't the type,"

"He has a big heart, under all that arrogance," you smiled softly, touching his face, brushing the hair from his forehead. "Kinda like someone we know,"

"You've got it bad," Stefan shook his head, a little bit in awe of your feelings. "I've never seen you like this, not with any other guy."

You looked over at him, his expression was a mix of worry and sadness.

"Do you hate me? For loving him?" You asked, a knot forming in your stomach.

"No, never," he said, pulling you into his arms. "I'm worried, and scared... But I could never hate you. Ever."

"I can convince him Stefan, I can get him on our side, I know I can," you said, feeling the tears come back.

"And if you can't?" He asked, rubbing your back.

"Then... Then... I don't know..." You said, a sob choking you, unable to speak.

Stefan hated himself for what he had to do next, but it was the only way he could think to keep everyone safe.

While you were still in his arms, he pulled out a syringe and jabbed it in your neck, pushing the liquid vervain in. It was a large dose and it took about three seconds before you passed out.

He caught you before you slumped to the ground, lifting your sleeping body and carrying you upstairs.

Damon and Elena were waiting anxiously, eager to hear that Stefan had been able to talk you down from freeing Elijah.

"Is she ok?" Elena moved forward, "Did she try anything?"

"She had a bit of a melt down," Stefan said honestly, he placed you on the couch, ensuring you were tucked in and comfortable.

"What can we do to make sure she doesn't help him?" Damon asked, leaning on the doorway, unable to come closer to you. The sight of you like this broke his heart. "she's been completely brainwashed by the guy,"

"She loves him Damon," Elena said softly, walking over to him, laying her hand on his arm.

"Don't say that," he groaned, covering his face. "That makes it worse. She has to get over it."

"I don't think it works that way," Elena said gently, squeezing his arm.

"We have to keep her away from him," Damon explained, his hands dropping, he was looking at Elena now. "It's too risky."

"That will be impossible," Stefan said, shaking his head, "she's more stubborn than you, she won't give up until she has her way."

"So what do we do?" Elena asked, glancing between them.

"The only way I can think of is to keep her sedated, until I find a way to kill him for good," Damon said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"No, Damon.. that's not right," Elena protested, looking to Stefan to back her up.

Stefan couldn't meet her gaze, instead he turned away, "We don't have any other options."

"So we are just going to knock her out? That's cruel!" Elena said, feeling very disappointed.

"Got any better ideas?" Damon snapped, kneeling down in front of you. He placed his hand on your forehead, "I can't let her wake him up, he will kill us all,"

Elena sighed, shaking her head.

"She will hate us for doing this," Stefan said, not liking the idea one bit, but it was the best they had.

"Yeah, well, I can handle that," Damon shrugged, and picked you up in his arms.

He carried you to your room, gently placing you on the bed, pulling the covers up over your body. He sat next to you, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"You'll understand, eventually," He said softly, stroking your hair, before standing up and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly.

You were trapped in some sort of nightmare, everything around you was completely dark. You couldn't even see your hand in front of your face. You had no idea where you were, what was up or what was down.

You were calling out for help, your voice echoing back to you, but no one else was there.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you, it was warm, familiar and safe. You were drawn to it and you reached out, trying to find the source of it.

You heard the sound of a man laughing, it was a wild, maniacal laugh.

You started running, your feet hitting the ground hard, you couldn't breathe, but you didn't stop. The laughter kept coming, getting louder and louder.

Then the sound of a woman screaming nearly knocked you off your feet, but you kept going until you ran into something solid.

It was the edge of a coffin, made of wood etched with an ornate symbol on the top, a crest of some sort. Your fingers traced over it, feeling the deep grooves. It was the letter 'M', carved into a shield.

Finally, your hands found the lid, and you pushed, straining to open it. What was inside was three rings of fire, you could feel the heat on your face, the smoke making it hard to breathe.

The rings were getting closer, or you were falling into them, you couldn't tell. The screams became deafening. You were overwhelmed with intense anxiety, unable to move as you stared into the flames.

Then everything stopped.

And you woke up.

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Five}

[rebelliousneferut]

balancing fame and secrecy | max verstappen x influencer! reader

summary; you and max have been secretly dating for a while and things have been going great... until fans started speculating about your love life.

genre; smau and written.

face claim; cindy kimberly.

note; english is not my first language.

in honor of my birthday boy, whom i love and admire very much.

masterlist!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆˚

y/n_updates

liked by judebfans, username and others

y/n_updates y/n via her stories.

she was at the real madrid game today and sources say she was seen leaving the stadium with star footballer jude bellingham.

lately there have been rumors circulating about a possible relationship between the two, what do you think?

view comments

username i think they would be a powerful couple

judefan definitely no 💀

username wdym?

judefan he's so sweet and she seems so mean

username you don't even know her silly

judefan but still...

y/nfan go out and touch grass

bellingham.source who is she?

y/n_updates @y/n_l/n, she became known for her Instagram lives and her makeup and beauty tips videos.

username1 i just stalked her and she's so gorgeous

username2 idk, there's something about her that doesn't fit

username3 right??? it doesn't give me a good feeling

y/nfan2 why is everyone judging my girl for a photo? you guys don't even know her to say if she's mean or not and as far as I know, she's been single for a while.

username4 tx, say it louder

"why is everyone saying you're dating jude bellingham?" was the first thing i saw when i unlocked my phone. it was 10 pm in spain, but in singapore, where max was for this weekend's race, it would be around 4 am.

"you know how the internet is, mijn leeuw (my lion), don't pay attention to it," i replied. a few minutes passed, and there was no response. worry started to creep in. had i upset him too much?

just when i was about to overthink it, his video call lit up the screen. "are you coming to the race?" he asked, his tone flat. there was no trace of the smile i loved so much.

"are you mad at me?"

"no," he mumbled, more like a petulant child.

"baby, you know i can't control what people say online."

"i know. i just wish everyone knew you were mine."

"it was your idea to keep it a secret," i reminded him.

"well, i don't like that idea anymore."

i let out a nervous laugh, but his blue eyes, even through the screen, conveyed tiredness and something more. i was about to respond when jude appeared behind me. max's expression turned cold.

"are you ready?" jude asked me.

"ready for what?" max snapped, his voice filled with venom.

"we're going to celebrate real madrid's victory, is that okay?"

"whatever. i'll call you later," he said, and hung up before i could reply.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to cause any trouble," jude said, visibly uncomfortable.

"it's okay, don't worry about it. i'll see you downstairs, alright?"

i left max messages that he didn't answer, and now all my excitement for going out had vanished.

jude and i have been friends for a while now, it's funny how these rumors are popping up now. we've been trying to laugh it off, but now the situation is getting serious and i'm afraid it might affect my relationship with max.

y/n_l/n

liked by landonorris, judebellingham, footballwags and others

y/n_l/n girls just wanna have fun

username so beautiful girl

username is this the rumoured jude's girlfriend?

username supposedly

username why is no one talking about lando in the likes?

username because he is everywhere

username fr

username call me crazy but i think she's trying to tell us something

username why is everyone so delusional?

username as a f1 fan i could only pay attention to that can of red bull

username does the song have any meaning or...?

username she wasn't even that relevant before they started linking her to jude, she's just a gold digger

username fyi, her father has always had money so she doesn't need to hunt for anyone's gold

username she has her own makeup line girl, what are you talking about?

on the other side of the world, max stared at his plate with disinterest. lando, sitting across from him, watched with a sympathetic smile. max hadn't touched his food since they started breakfast.

"everything okay?" lando asked, noticing his friend's tension. max nodded, but it was more of a grimace.

"it's about y/n, isn't it?"

max sighed. "something like that."

lando showed him his phone. "she just posted something new." max felt a knot in his stomach. "everything's alright between you two, right?"

"yeah, it's just..." max ran a hand through his hair. "i wanted to keep things quiet for a while. you know how fans are." an involuntary smile appeared on his face as he thought of y/n. "sometimes i wish i could show her off to the world, have her come to races with me..."

"and what does she think about that?"

"i know she doesn't mind. in fact, she's told me she'd love to. but i wanted to protect her from the media circus."

lando nodded. "i know, and she knows too. just tell her you want to go public."

"i'll wait until she gets here. she's coming on saturday."

"alright, that's it. don't stress about her and jude. you know they're just friends."

max thanked lando and picked up his phone. as he dialed y/n's number, a sense of calm washed over him. he felt lucky to have someone like her and a friend like lando.

y/n_updates

liked by footballwags, y/nfan and others

y/n_updates this friday, during her instagram live, y/n clarified to all her fans that she and jude were not dating, they are just good friends and she would appreciate it if they stopped pairing her with him.

it seems that our girl has been dating someone else since the summer of last year and she doesn't want these rumors to affect her relationship.

view comments

username what do you mean last summer? how the hell did she manage to hide it for so long?

username am i the only sad one here? i really liked them as a couple

judefan omg, thanks god!

username jude is not going to be your boyfriend, you idiot

username what are you doing here if you don't like her???

username do we have any idea who this mysterious boy might be?

username maybe another footballer

username could it be lando?

username you're so funny

y/n_l/n

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

y/n_l/n lately

view comments

username she said a while ago that she preferred dogs over cats 😭

username it must be of her mysterious boyfriend

username did he send you those flowers? i can treat you better

username this is jude from his secret account

username they are just friends 🙄

username call me crazy, but i know that cat

username WHOSE IS IT? TELL US!!!

username i thought i was the only one

username nobody talks about how beautiful she is?

username why doesn't anyone talk about her likes?

username do you think...?

username no, i don't think so...

username but what if...

username no, definitely not

f1gossip

liked by y/n_source, judebfans, username and others

f1gossip new wag alert

this weekend, y/n l/n was seen in the paddock alongside driver max verstappen sharing hugs and smiles very affectionately.

the influencer, who had been paired with footballer jude bellingham, clarified through her instagram that they were nothing more than just good friends.

on the other hand, y/n attended the singapore grand prix and was watching the race from the red bull motor home. but not only that, at the moment of the podium she and max shared a beautiful moment together and the driver, who had started the weekend off, looked happier than ever.

view comments

username i said it and they called me crazy

username i started screaming when i saw her on the screen, she was so beautiful and she and max look so happy

username this was not on my 2024 bingo card

username i already love them both

judefan from a footballer to a driver, such a gold hunter

username let me hold your hand while i tell you this...

username get a life and stop fucking around

username this is so unexpected, but they look so cute

y/n_l/n

liked by maxverstappen1, f1wags, y/n_updates, landonorris and others

y/n_l/n well, my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me

view comments

maxverstappen1 ik hou van je, schat (i love you, darling)

❤️ liked by the author

y/n_l/n i love you too, mijn leeuw

view more replies

username STOPPP! this is the couple you didn't expect but now you love them

landonorris i waited so long for this

username of course he knew

username you should tell us the details of their relationship

username mom n dad

username idk if i want to be her or be with her

maxverstappen1

liked by y/n_l/n, f1wags, maxandy/n and others

maxverstappen1 mine

username this is max's account or a y/n fan account

username both

username he is so in love

username i want a boyfriend like max

username she's so lucky

y/n_l/n my one and only

❤️ liked by the author

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1211

Chapter 32:

The Road was silent and empty, the tension between the three of you thick.

After Billy confessed that he was looking to find his brother at the end of the road, you had all remained quiet and simply kept walking.

No one brought up what Evanora said about Agatha and You, what happened to Alice or what they witnessed at the last trial.

You walked at Billy's right side and Agatha at his left; leaving him trapped between the two of you.

He said nothing more for a while, but it was because he was trying to use his powers. Well, not his magic based on but the other set he had inherited; most likely from Wanda.

Billy had the ability to read minds, at least with some partial control. Either he had to be very close emotionally with someone to easily access their thoughts and establish a connection, or try really hard.

And that's what he did, trying to focus first on Agatha and then on you. Yet the more he tried, the more blocks he found; as if his ability could not bypass your minds and find your thoughts.

With you, he was not fully surprised but with Agatha... she was magicless. He should have been able to get something out of her, but all of his attempts have been futile.

What he didn't know was the fact that both of you could sense him, and you also took notice of his little frown; a big clue that he was mentally struggling with something.

In this case, the mental barriers you both had established to keep noisy telepaths out of your heads.

"You'll get a nosebleed trying that hard to read our minds." Agatha said, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "Especially hers," she motioned for you. "She is immune to noisy telepaths and mind readers."

Billy looked at you, surprised.

You shrugged your shoulders. "It's part of my magic. It neuters and blocks anything foreign." You explained. "It would take a very strong magic individual to be able to bypass it"

"Hmmm," he exclaimed and kept walking, clearly not wanting to continue this conversation or admit out loud that he was trying to snoop around with his abilities.

"You just can ask me your questions. Aloud." Agatha said, not liking this silence that silently existed between the three of you.

Plus, she was curious to find more about this Billy. What he had in mind or wished to know, what he thought and questioned. Now that there was no stupid sigil to stop him from exposing everything.

She just had to tread this carefully.

"Okay, then, where's Rio?" Billy asked, and you smirked on amusement, at both how smart the boy was and how quicky he cornered Agatha.

Agatha cleared her throat. "Not that question."

Billy looked at you, hoping you would offer some insight into this creepy green witch with questionable motives and loyalties.

"Sorry, kiddo. Can't say anything," you replied softly as you pushed a small branch to the side and allowed the others to walk first before you followed them.

"Is Wanda Maximoff really dead?" He asked next, and you turned your head to face Agatha, curious about that as well.

"Yes." She said with confidence but quickly changed her mind. "No. Maybe."

"Did you see a body?"

Agatha got a flash of the morgue body she saw while fighting to escape Wanda's spell and be free of this stupid Agnes persona that she was forced to have for three whole years.

"Yes, I did."

"Did anybody else?"

She thought for a moment. "It's hard to say." She confessed honestly and yet received a questionable look from the boy by her side. "Hey, you want straight answers, ask a straight lady."

You scoffed in amusement and had to place your hand in front of your mouth to hide your laughter that was threatening to come out.

Once you calmed down faintly, you saw the others looking at you. "Don't look at me like that. It was funny... and accurate," you bemused. "Plus, let's admit there is not really a straight person in this coven...or any coven I have met."

Agatha nodded. "Straight people and coven do not mix."

It was Billy's turn to scoff. "Oh, please. That's just a rumour. "

You and Agatha smirked, but it was your lover who chose to comment first.

"Is it now?" She questioned rhetorically. "Then, please, do your research and find me a coven that did not have questionable romantic preferences. I will wait. "

Billy opened his mouth to argue, but he came to realize he didn't truly know any covens in real life. The covens he studied and read about was not a lot of accurate information to trust.

Before he could think of something to save himself from yet another embarassment, he too notice of something up ahead.

Everyone came to a halt and observed your next trial, this time a haunting dark eyrie castle on top of a rock. Even the clouds and the background seemed to match its aesthetic.

"This is new," Agatha commented.

"I have a bad feeling bout this," you confessed and rubbed your hands faintly, feeling your hair stand on end in warning.

"We don't really have much of a choice," Billy reminded you.

Left with nothing else to say, you continued down the path; mentally preparing yourself for what is to come.

Billy and you had yet to face your trials, which both comforted and also worried you. On one hand, if the next trial was for any of you two, it meant you could be okay even if Jen and Liia join later.

But godess help if the trial is for Lilia or Rio, for it would not end well unless they would magically appear right on time, summoned by the road.

You were not sure if that was possible, for last time you, Agatha, and the coven had not gotten separated. Instead, you have stuck together even if some of your fellow witches perished on the way.

You came to a halt in front of the gothic huge wooden double door, two heavy metallic rings with intricate designs right in the middle; an old but familiar to you way of knocking on doors before door bells were invented.

"Guess we don't knock, right?" Billy asked, looking at you and Agatha.

"We didn't the last time," you reminded him. "Or any of the last times," you continued in a mumble.

"Then why do you do now?" Agatha questioned rhetorically and pushed the heavy doors or at least tried. "They look far lighter than they are," she grunted, trying not to make a joke out of herself because she knew Billy would never let it go.

Thankfully, Jen was not present, for she would have commented already and not in a nice way.

You looked at Billy and then chose to join her, doing your best to push against the heavy doors. Eventually, your combined efforts seemed to pay off, and you managed to make a big enough gap to pass through; darkness blocked your vision for a moment before things cleared.

And once you could see again, you came face to face with your next trial.

Chapter 33

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

Ruggie Bucchi with Ice Bear reader

• The cafeteria was pretty packed with hungry students standing in line. When it was finally your turn, Grim kept pointing at every dish displayed like a child picking their most desired toys at a mall.

Grim: "Hey, henchman! Pick that one for me! Oh, and that one too! That one also looks good, pick it for me! Hurry up, I'm hungry!"

Ice Bear: "... Ice Bear will pick food. Grim go wait on table."

Grim: "Aawww man..."

Ace: "Oh? Does baby Gwim feew sad?"

Grim: "Fnyagh! You wish!"

Deuce: "Can't your hunger wait for the food? It'll only take a minute."

Grim: "The Great Grim ain't waiting on any table on an empty stomach! I'm gonna stand here until I get my food!"

Ice Bear: "sigh"

• You can only grab whatever food you can afford. You chose an omelette for yourself and a sandwich for Grim. Once you give him the sandwich first, you ordered him to wait on the table with Ace and Deuce. By the time you got your tray, Grim was already running to you crying about someone stealing his food.

Grim: "Fnyaaaagh! Henchman! That scumbag thief just stole my sandwich!"

Ice Bear: "?"

Deuce: "Stole it? You gave it to him."

Grim: "I did not!"

Ace: "Yeah, you did. We saw the whole thing."

Grim: "I didn't wanna do that! My body moved on its own!"

Ace: "Just cut it out already, man. If you wanted a smaller sandwich you could've just said so earlier."

Grim: "Fnyaagh, no one believes me?! Henchman, just get that guy already! I swear, he did steal it!"

Ice Bear: "...Ice Bear will share food."

Grim: "Fnyaagh...."

• Despite complaining about the loss of his sandwich, Grim ate most of your food. You think that this might be the time that you must go grocery shopping in order to save money and pack lunches for the two of you.

• You've heard about Sam's Shop from the ADeuce. Since the shop has almost everything a student needs, you decided to stop by on the way home and shop there.

Sam: "Hi there! Oh, you must be the monst-- I mean, Bear I've heard about so much! Welcome to my shop! If you need anything, just ask me."

Ice Bear: "...Ice Bear needs food."

Sam: "Aha! Then that'll be on that aisle over there. Anything else?"

Ice Bear: "Nothing. Ice Bear says thank you."

Sam: "Hahaha! You're one funny bear!"

Ice Bear: "?"

• You didn't mind Sam's comment and just strolled through the aisles. You take a nearby shopping bag and fill it with all the things you need for this month as long as it fits your budget. You spot a can of tuna and thought of Grim, so you reached out for it. Your paw stopped after you feel a hand reaching for the can.

Ice Bear: "?"

Ruggie: "Wha..."

Ice Bear: "..."

Ruggie: "....."

Ice Bear: "......."

Ruggie: "...Uhh hey... You takin' that one?"

Ice Bear: *nods*

Ruggie: "Sorry but I really need this thing, y'know, and uh, this is the last can..."

Ice Bear: "..."

• You don't seem to show any movement of letting the can go, so Ruggie thought of two ways to get it. First way is to make up a convincing excuse...

Ruggie: "Look, I get how much you need the can but I have to get this can. You see, Professor Trein ordered me to fetch this for him so he can feed his cat, Lucius. And if I don't do it, he'll give me a failing mark... So please, could I have this?"

Ice Bear: "..."

• Your paw is still holding on to the can as well as Ruggie's hand. Ruggie awaited for an answer from you but you still won't let go. For some reason... You think that Trein is NOT the type of person that just abuses their status for his personal gain. You stared at Ruggie and your instincts tell you that he's tricking you. You take the can and apologized.

Ice Bear: "....Ice Bear is sorry for you."

Ruggie: "Wait, hey!... Ugh..."

• Welp, looks like the old sad excuse failed. Now there's only one way... Take and run for it!

Ruggie, pointing: "Hey look over there!"

Ice Bear: "?"

Ruggie: "Shishishi!"

• You looked at where Ruggie pointed and the hyena beastman saw an opening. He steals the can before you could react.

Ruggie, running: "Better luck next time!"

Ice Bear: "!"

• You ran after him but it looks like he has experience in running away more than you think. You ran to an aisle displaying pencils and pens. Quickly, you take three unsharpened pencils and threw them at Ruggie before he could ring up to the counter.

Ruggie: "Almost there-- ACK!"

• One behind his right knee, he slows down...

Ruggie: "H-hey... OUCH!"

• Next one at his hand, he drops the can...

Ruggie: "GAH!"

• Last one at the nape, he collapses...

Ruggie: "...Uhh...."

• You take the can after you send him a glare. Fortunately, Sam and the counter are two aisles away so he couldn't hear the commotion. You place your items on the counter and Sam handed your change.

Sam: "Thanks for shopping here! May I also interest you in these buy-one-take-one bags?"

Ice Bear: "Ice Bear is fine."

Sam: "Alright! Have a nice da-"

Ruggie: "Damn. All that for a tuna can?"

Ice Bear: "😠"

Sam: "E-excuse me, are you ok?"

Ruggie: "Yeah, this guy just got his hand on the last tuna can."

Sam: "Ah! Darn it, I forgot to restock those..."

• ... So yeah, another bad first impression but hey, after the whole Savanaclaw Trying To Cheat fiasco, you two actually managed to get along. Sometimes.

• That one time when you and him are partnered up for Chemistry class, you avoided him. Then you realize that you have zero knowledge on potion making which resulted in failure. Ruggie laughed and offered to teach you, only if you apologize and give him something in return. Although you labeled him as a 'scumbag thief' as Grim says, you don't want to have a failing grade. Reluctantly, you accepted.

• Ruggie happily chowwed down on the food you made for him. He's never eaten anything that good for a long time. Either you owe him or not, he'll steal food from you now. Good luck.

• If Ruggie owes you something, then it's going to be him handing you test answers from when he was a first year. Aside from giving him food, you also help him around Monstro Lounge. He keeps pushing you away from the kitchen to waiting duty because he doesn't want Azul or Jade see you cook. If they find out about your talent, that'll blow away his chance to get free food, now won't it?

[educatedsimps]

Hi! Saw your requests were open and I just had to stop by! Could I request a (not exactly angst bc the idea is funny but definitely in character for him) Bokuto x reader where he's ranting to a friend about how he loves to hug the reader and his friend just makes an offhand comment about how he'll probably crush her since he's a pretty big guy and he goes all emo mode about it. He doesn't want to hurt anyone :( Obviously we gotta add some comfort at the end for the silly guy

≪ back to fics masterlist

bokuto kōtarō  x f!reader

a/n: omg of course!! i haven't had the chance to write for bokuto and yes i agree this is literally perfect for him 🥰

cw: timeskip spoilers, atsumu being stupid, some hurt/comfort, msby crack

"I can’t wait to go home after this. I’m exhausted," Sakusa sighed.

"It’s not useful practice if it’s not exhausting, Omi-Omi. Be glad you’ve got teammates like us," Atsumu drawled, winking at his teammate and earning a disgusted glare from across the table.

"I thought today’s practice was fun! We got to try the new unorthodox version of our quick attack, and we've almost got it!" Hinata chirped next to Atsumu, with bits of his food flying from his mouth.

"I'm fine with it as long as you guys don't overexert yourselves during training," Lisa, Atsumu's girlfriend and the team's physiotherapist, chimed in from Atsumu's other side.

"What are you guys planning to do when you get home?" Meian asked, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth.

"Shower," was Sakusa's immediate answer.

"Probably do a little bit of meditation," Hinata mused.

"Call my brother to ask for more meal prep bentos," Atsumu said. An amused scoff came from his girlfriend.

"What about you, Bokuto?"

Having been focused on his food the whole time, Bokuto nearly choked on his rice when called upon by his captain. With tempura crumbs coating his lips, he smiled widely and announced, "I'm going home to give y/n a big hug!"

"You sure love hugging y/n, Bokuto-san!" Hinata chuckled, popping a salmon nigiri in his mouth.

"Of course I do! I love hugging her! She's so huggable and I just wanna squeeze her so tight all the time and transfer all of my love for her," Bokuto said, with with his fists in the air. "You guys should all hug your girlfriends tight! The tighter you hug her the more she'll know you love her!"

Shooting Lisa a lovesick smile, Atsumu stated, "We all love hugging our girlfriends, but I won't accidentally crush 'er to bits like someone." He nodded towards Bokuto.

Bokuto stilled, staring at Atsumu with confusion.

"Miya..." Meian warned under his breath.

"What? I mean, have ya seen the guy? He's huge! Could prob'ly flatten 'er if he wanted to," Atsumu continued, chortling at the thought. He stopped short as he noticed the glares from Meian and Sakusa. "What? What'd I say?"

By then, Bokuto was already in a completely different headspace. He had a blank expression on his face and a faraway look in his eyes. His shoulders were slightly hunched and his usually spiky hair seemed to droop at the edges.

Sakusa sighed what was probably the heaviest sigh in the history of mankind as Hinata stage-whispered to his teammate, "Atsumu-san, I think you hurt Bokuto's feelings."

Wide eyed, the blonde setter started to defend himself. "WHA-?! no, i- I DIDN'T EVEN-"

Sensing Bokuto's incoming emotinal shut down (or emotional episode, in this case), Lisa quickly tried to divert their attention. "Please, 'Tsumu. You wish you were as strong as Bokuto-san. Your spikes are weak as shit-"

" 'Cause I'm literally a setter!"

"-and not an all-rounder, which is why Kageyama-kun is ranked first in the country and you're second."

"BABE-"

"Maybe I shouldn't hug her anymore. I don't wanna hurt her. What if I really crush her one day? Then she'll really be flattened like a piece of bread. I don't wanna hurt her. So this means I can't hug her anymore. But I like hugging her. But does she even like my hugs?" Came Bokuto's voice. His brows were now furrowed and his face was etched with worry.

"Of course she does, Bokuto-san! I'm sure she loves your hugs, and you love her too much to ever hurt her, right?" Hinata and Lisa attempted to cheer up the saddened spiker.

Finishing the last of his food, Sakusa stood up, muttering, "I'm exhausted, I can't deal with this right now. My partner's here to pick me up anyway," As he walked past the other side of the table, he spoke to Atsumu in a low voice. "Only a jerk like you would say something like that to Bokuto, of all people."

"SHUT UP, OMI.”

"I’m home…"

Your ears perked up at the sound of Bokuto’s voice and you immediately noticed his dejected tone. Closing your laptop, you got up from your desk and bounced over to the front door to greet him.

Sticking your head round the corner, you saw him place his stuff down by the counter before staring into space. His face was blank and devoid of emotion but his eyes were filled with inexplicable sadness. Seeing him like this tugged on your heartstrings and you knew he was going through one of his emotional episodes. You just didn’t know why.

"Hey, Kō! How was your day?" Slowly walking towards him, you reached out your arms to give him a hug but stopped short when he cried out.

"NO, DON’T HUG ME. I’LL CRUSH YOU."

You froze with your arms mid-air before you dropped them back to your side. He had one hand held out to stop you from coming closer and his face was tucked into his other arm. You could hear quiet sniffles coming from him and your heart broke seeing how upset he was.

"But you already have a crush on me, baby. And I have a crush on you too! I thought we’ve already established that?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work. It was like he didn’t even hear you, so you decided to give him some space (like Akaashi had advised). You guided him to sit on the couch while you went about the house finishing up your chores. After several minutes, he seemed to feel a little better and you decided to talk to him (also like Akaashi had advised).

Sitting by his side on the couch, you reached out and held his hands in your own. His eyes were downcast and he was avoiding your gaze as if his life depended on it.

"Kō? What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

"Look at me, baby. Please? I wanna see your cute face," you cooed. He pouted for a while more (which was adorable, by the way) before he finally caved.

"Tsum-Tsum said I'll crush you if I hug you too tight 'cause I'm so much bigger and stronger than you. And I don't wanna crush you, I promise! It just made me sacred to think I might not know my own strength and end up hurting you in the process. That's why I'm scared of accidentally hurting you when I’m excited and I know that if I did, you wouldn't say anything which is why I don't wanna accidentally hurt you with my hugs in the first place-" He swallowed the rest of his words as you pressed your lips to his.

"Kō, I love your hugs. They're the warmest hugs anyone has ever given me. Don't tell my mom, but sometimes your hugs are even better than hers," You giggled softly. A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at you. "And it's not a bad thing that you're so strong. It makes your arms really nice to hug! I promise you'll never be able to crush me. I'm stronger than you think, you know?"

"Really? You really like my hugs?" He asked, hope in his eyes.

"Really. A hundred per cent. A thousand per cent. I wouldn't like it any other way, Kō," You reassured him, kissing him sweetly once more. Within seconds, his entire mood had shifted and he was now beaming.

"Okay! I can hug you now!" He cheered. Before you could process anything, you were held in your favourite set of arms and wrapped up in the warmest hug on earth. You hugged him back tightly and felt his soft lips press against the crown of your head. Snuggling into his warmth, you felt so lucky to have him.

"Oh my god, anyone who says your hugs aren't perfect are clearly stupid," You sighed happily.

"Tsum-Tsum is pretty stupid sometimes," Kotaro hummed.

You pulled away, gasping in faux shock. "Really?"

"Pfft, yeah. Even Lisa says so!" He guffawed.

Before you could reply, your phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Lisa: “hey girl! hope everything’s ok with bokuto. my boyfriend’s kinda stupid sometimes so he doesn’t think before he says stuff. hope bokuto’s not feeling too down!”

Y/n: “it’s all good! managed to cheer him up pretty quickly today, haha”

Lisa: “that’s good to hear. you’re the only one who can cheer him up like that, y/n! anyway, rest well, you two. see ya next week!”

Reacting to her message with a heart, you put your phone down and turned back to your boyfriend.

"So, you gonna hug me or not?"

a/n: UM I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY??? pls lmk what u think 😭

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[softonshanks]

Can i request a Shanks x female reader in which she's the only female member on the crew and she's her period and everyone freaks out? I think it'd be hilarious thanks

Hey, thank you so much for your question. I really like this prompt, I tried to keep it funny as you asked, with a little bit of fluff. I hope you enjoy it (:

Characters: Shanks x female reader

Total word count: 1445 words

It was a sunny afternoon on the ship, but instead of enjoying the day on deck with the rest of the crew, Y/N was curled up in her hammock, clutching her stomach in pain. She had woken up that morning feeling awful, her abdomen cramping in a way she’d never experienced before. It didn’t take long for her to realize what was happening: her period was trying to kill her for good this time. Normally, it was just mild discomfort for her, but this time, it hit her like a tidal wave. The pain was sharp, radiating from her lower stomach down her legs, and it left her feeling nauseous and weak. The worst part? She had no idea how to deal with it on a ship full of men who had absolutely no idea what she was going through.

At first, she tried to tough it out. She didn’t want to make a fuss over something as natural as her period. She usually tried to keep it cool every month, and she always succeeded, but this time, by midday, she couldn’t take it anymore and retreated to her hammock with a groan.

Word spread quickly through the ship that Y/N was sick, and before long, a small group of panicked pirates had gathered outside her quarters. Benn Beckman was the first to peek in, his expression filled with concern.

"Hey, Y/N," Benn said cautiously, "uh, we heard you're not feeling well. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Y/N groaned, her face half-buried in a pillow. "It's just… cramps."

"Cramps?" Benn echoed, looking confused. “For what? Have you hurt yourself again trying to carry stuff way heavier than you?” he asked, worried.

"No, Benn,” she quietly laughed. “And I can handle heavy stuff,” she pointed out before placing her hand on her aching stomach again. “It’s just… girl stuff," she muttered.

That immediately sent Benn backtracking. "Oh! Oh, right, okay. Uh… anything we can do? Maybe… get you some water?"

Y/N chuckled weakly. "I think I'll survive, Benn. Thanks, though."

But Benn wasn't the only one concerned. Soon enough, several other crew members began showing up, each trying to be helpful in their own way—though none of them really knew what they were doing.

Yasopp walked in with a blanket. "You cold, Y/N? You need a blanket? I heard you're supposed to stay warm." She tried not to laugh while she told him, "Thanks, Yasopp, but I'm already warm enough."

Lucky Roo appeared with a tray of food. "Brought you something to eat. Maybe it'll help?"

Y/N glanced at the plate, her stomach turning just at the sight of food. "Thank you so much, Roo. I’ll just eat it later when I’m feeling better."

The men hovered around, trying their best to be supportive, but Y/N could see they were all clueless and a bit nervous. After all, they were used to facing sea monsters and enemy pirates—not a young woman dealing with period cramps. It was sweet, really, but she couldn’t help but laugh at how out of their depth they were.

Finally, Shanks appeared, a wide grin on his face as he shooed the others away. "Alright, alright, you bunch of goofs. Give the lady some space. We can't be crowding her like this,” he said, making Y/N burst into a loud laugh.

“As if you know what to do to make a lady feel better when she’s on her period,” commented Benn, taking a puff from his cigarette.

“Of course I do, I’ve had much more experience with the ladies than all of you,” the captain answered, laughing, while the rest of the crew started to make fun of him.

“Best thing to ease period cramps is to have sex,” he said seriously. Benn put his hand on his face, while Y/N, still in her hammock, threw her pillow at the captain.

“You wish it was, you pig,” she answered.

“Well, the Captain is actually right,” Hongo said, trying to regain his composure. “I mean, from a medical point of view, this is true.”

“SEE? Thank you,” Shanks said, throwing his hands in the air. “Anyway, there’s something that will work even better: laughing. So now all of you get out of here while I work my magic,” Shanks said, as the others slowly backed out of the room, murmuring well wishes before disappearing completely. “If he tries something on you, scream, we’ll come here and rescue you,” shouted Yasopp before closing the door.

Shanks approached her hammock and plopped down on a nearby chair, propping his feet up casually. Y/N, seeing the captain so close, pretended to scream, while he raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

“That’s how you repay me? I’m here to make you feel better after all, I’m hurt,” he joked.

Y/N couldn’t help but crack a smile despite her discomfort. "Oh, really? You think you can make me laugh while I feel like I’m being stabbed repeatedly in the gut?"

Shanks winked. "Challenge accepted."

For the next hour, Shanks was in top form. He regaled her with stories of his adventures, mimicking the crew members’ quirks in exaggerated, goofy ways. He told her about the time he and Beckman had gotten lost on a small island while drunk and ended up at a fancy ball, pretending to be nobles. He even did silly impressions of Lucky Roo’s laugh and Yasopp’s serious face whenever he tried to shoot something, all while making absurd faces.

Y/N found herself laughing despite the pain, her body relaxing bit by bit with every joke Shanks threw her way. His carefree attitude and easy charm made her forget, even for a little while, how miserable she had felt.

Eventually, after another round of chuckles, Y/N sighed contentedly, her pain easing just a little. "Thanks, Shanks," she said softly, looking at him with gratitude. "You really helped me out today. You’re a really good captain, you know that?"

Shanks waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, I’m just a guy who doesn’t know how to leave someone alone when they’re in pain. But hey, I’m glad I could make you laugh."

Y/N took a deep breath, her smile faltering for just a moment. "It’s… It’s tough sometimes, you know? Being the only girl on a ship full of guys. You all are amazing, but there are moments where I feel a little out of place. Like when I get sick like this, or when I just want to talk to another woman…”

Shanks’ expression softened as he looked at her, his usual playful grin replaced by something more sincere. He reached out, placing a hand on her arm. "I get that, Y/N. And I’m sorry if we’ve a bunch of clumsy, noisy and confused man most of the time. But you belong here just as much as the rest of us. Hell, I’m happy you’re a girl because it means I have someone to stare at whenever I am in need of a pretty face.”

“Thought the only pretty face you loved staring at was Benn’s.”

“I know, right? His long black hair, his stare… the way the cigarette dangles from his lips,” he started seductively describing his first mate, causing Y/N once again to burst into laughter. He stopped, incapable of doing anything but listening to her delightful laugh.

“Yeah, Benn’s hot, but you’re lovely.”

There was a moment of silence as their playful banter shifted into something more serious. The tension between them, always present but never acknowledged, seemed to thicken the air around them. Y/N’s breath hitched as Shanks leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto hers.

"Can I kiss you?" Shanks whispered, his voice barely audible. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. But when he responded, kissing her back with equal warmth, the hesitation melted away, and the kiss deepened.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their foreheads resting against each other.

"That… was nice," Y/N said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.

Shanks chuckled softly. "Yeah… it was."

They stayed like that for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence, before Shanks finally pulled back and grinned at her. "So, do you think I’ll have to wait until your next period for another kiss like that?”

Y/N shook her head. “Of course not, but don’t ask my permission next time.”

She watched him leave, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and happiness despite the dull ache in her abdomen, trying to sleep as she started thinking again about their kiss and less aboout the pain.