#things error is grateful for

[nascenterror]

Three Things I'm Grateful For & Three Things I Hope For:

I'm grateful for gaining the patience to pause before making decisions. I think I've finally learned there is no race. I hope to grow this skill and to think before each decision thoroughly.

I'm grateful I can change my perspective. It may require outside intervention now but soon, I hope I'll be able to think of other possibilities and change my perspective on my own.

I'm grateful to be aware of the distractions in my life and to be giving them less attention. I hope I become more aware of the needs and desires I have been neglecting.

[b-blushes]

got a good grade in 'not having something wrong with my brain that opticians can detect' and also in 'buying bananas' (not from the optician) 👍

[catboysalmon]

Ok angry anon

[muntitled]

Indebted

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: He wouldn't call it jealousy... He just wasn't very fond of sharing his toys.

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Jealousy Language, Violence, Age gap, God Complex, Brainwashing, Psychopathy, Blood, Gore, Codependency, Yandere!Salesman, Stalking, Smut (+18) mdni, Caning, Forced Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dumbification, Impact Play, Blood Play, Blood Kink, Sadomasocism, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Rough Sex, Blood Play, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Punishments, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Overstimulation

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

4k words

"Seriously, if it weren't for your help, I'd probably fail this module-" you meet him at the door, your Salesman, who's come to play one of his games. He arrives just as you're ushering someone else out.

"It's honestly my pleasure," you say, "You've made me feel useful."

As you speak, you open your front door to reveal your Salesman standing on the opposite end of the threshold.

You hadn't been smiling, not until you saw him standing there in a crisp, well-fitted navy blue suit. He's not looking at you. Not immediately. His eyes are trained on the boy you're standing beside. The one who's slipping on his sneakers, still murmuring about how incredibly grateful he is for your tutoring.

'It's nothing,' you replied modestly, even though it was most definitely not nothing to dedicate your entire Wednesday afternoon to tutoring. The boy is a first year and budding with the need to get better in psychology. His essay would have been flawless, had it not been for the grammatical and spelling errors that plagued the page. You'd both sat for the majority of this Wednesday afternoon hacking through the issues and improving on his spelling. It was endearing. To be in university and still need a spelling tutor.

"Thanks so much for the help." The boy tries to maneuver his lanky frame past your Salesman who takes up the majority of the space by your little doorway.

"See you next week." He shoots you a small smile before giving an uneasy glance to your Salesman.

"Hello." Says the Salesman, so painfully formal it causes a wave of unease to swell. He peers down at the boy like a tiny little thing.

"H-Hey." Your student replies before thanking you once more.

When he leaves and it's just you and the man you're paid to please every Wednesday evening, an uneasy sort of silence settles between you both.

You're smiling up at him.

And he's smiling down at you but it's different somehow. Tighter. Not a genuine smile at all.

Although admittedly, none of his smiles were genuine. His entire face was a carefully orchestrated scam, to get any suspecting victim to trust him.

And yet somehow, this smile feels more phoney.

Like a tempest is brewing beneath.

Before you're able to dissect it further, he's already stepping closer, letting his large, elongated shadow fall on you. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"The last time you came to my house, you killed someone." You lean against the door, your hip leaning against the wood as you fold your arms over your chest. His eyes zero in on the movement and a rare occasion occurs: You feel powerful. That's the last thing you've ever been made to feel in his presence.

"It took a week to get the smell of blood and death out of my room." You continue.

He lifts his hands in front of you, showing the briefcase that hangs from his heavy fingers and the blisters coating his palms. Like a magician convincing you his hands were clean, "I come in peace." That deep and gravelly vibrato veneering his voice causes a tantalizing hum to run all the way down your spine, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. You step aside, staring blankly ahead of you as he steps into your house, bombarding everything with his presence.

From his brisk walk alone, trudging into your apartment like he owns the palace (which he regrettably does) you almost immediately realize that something is wrong. You are not under the impression that you've done anything to make him angry but unease still rolls in your stomach like a tempest that's brewing. When you make it into your adjoining living that bleeds into the kitchen, you find him standing in the kitchen. He lowers his briefcase onto the counter before resting both his heavy hands there.

You move to the other side of the counter, leaning down- giving him a more than perfect view of the cleavage spilling from your dress. You hope it might appease him as you try to wrack your mind for possibile slip-ups that would've caused this terrible silence.

This little-to-no-conversation between you both makes your dynamic feel like the transaction that it actually is: a girl, who needs her university fees paid and a sadist who wants his needs met. Feelings weren't in the equation and yet, your heart stops when he asks,

"How was school?"

"School was school." You reply, sounding pathetically excited to finally hear his voice since the moment he entered your little home.

"Although," you peer down at your jittery fingers on the counter. Your nerves are shot to hell as you admit, "I don't know how proactive I'm going to be tonight-”

He was a ruthless dominant, never failing to leave you absolutely spent by the end of the night. It left you with great discomfort to not be able to perform to the greatest of your abilities during these sessions. “I'm so tired... I've got this psychology quiz and-"

"Who was that?" His questions cut through yours like the tip of a hot knife.

“Who was who?” You ask.

He only smiles before turning his back to you, frantically pulling open cupboards as he says, “Rice. Where's the rice? Do you have rice?”

“The cupboard in the bottom row- Who are you referring to?”

He pulls out your tall container of rice and you watch him round the counter with it in his hands. “This place is so fucking small.” He says, popping the lid of the container, “Reminds me of my childhood home.” He stands right in the only open space in your apartment and all you do is watch as he tips the container over, watching millions of rice grains scatter to the bare floor.

“THAT'S MY FOOD, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-”

His voice is like molten lava when he looks down at you and points toward the ground. “Kneel.”

You feel nothing but cold air slide across your exposed arms when he trudges back to your little kitchen. Your mind reels and your stomach sinks and sinks and sinks- burning a hole through the rest of your organs.

“Am I being punished for something?”

“Be a good girl and kneel on the rice.” He says and because you were nothing but a slave to the dominance in his voice, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. From behind the kitchen counter he watches your face contort into unmistakable pain as the rice grains dig into your knees. He takes a while but soon you're fully kneeling on the floor. He rounds the counter once again until he's standing before you.

“That… child that was just here,” his voice is eerily calm as he caresses your cheek, “Who was that?”

Had you been in any other situation, under vastly different circumstances, you might have looked for the urge to laugh. His blatant jealousy of some university first-year was nothing if not laughable.

“He's just a friend from class- ah.” It almost becomes unbearable but for the sake of your self preservation, you know not to get up.

He continues to caress you, loosening his tie as he asks. “Which class?”

“P-Pardon?”

“You mean to tell me you only go to one class?” He snaps and you fight off tears, “What the fuck am I paying for?”

“You're paying for me to get my psychology degree.” You reply with feeble words, trying to put away the thought of all the little stabbings plaguing your knees.

“And does that entail sleeping with your classmates?”

“What?!” You screech as he walks away. You're suddenly left without nothing to hold onto and you sway forward, your palms landing on more rice.

“Y-You know I don't do that.” You cry, feeling the sting more from the accusation than the pain of all this bloody rice, “Y-You know I don't sleep around- You know I don't talk to anyone-”

You hear his briefcase click open. From your vantage point on the lowly rice-filled floor, you cannot see what he's taking out. It fills you with more dread than you've ever experienced before. Which was utterly ridiculous.

With him, dread is a thing you ought to be accustomed to. Dread is where you live now. You ought to get comfortable with it.

“Such a shame.” He tsks as he finally rounds the corner to reveal whatever it is he's gone to go fetch. His dress shoes clack against your recently varnished floor and you breathe heavily. The pain had subsided- or perhaps you've gotten used to it- which scares you more than anything. He's messing with your pain threshold. Causing you to build a tolerance for certain things and that terrifies you.

Hidden under all that terror was unmistakable lust.

God help you.

“I thought we were making progress, you and I.” you see the cane first. Made of rattan, it hangs from his strong hand corded with tense veins. A gleaming watch is secured around his wrist and you're already shaking your head as you slowly look up at him. Now the tears are right by the doorway. No matter how much pain he forces you to get accustomed to you could never survive this. Your body still has limits.

“He just asked me to help him with his spelling- Please!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Spelling, you say?” he pats down on your head, eliciting a dizzying wave of subordination as he says, “I think you've just given us our game for tonight, Doll.” He bends down, knees bending until he's somewhat closer to your height. He's still far too big for you. Far too much. You try to crawl backwards, you try to crawl away but he grabs you by your face. You're quite literally being expertly manhandled as he turns you around until you're on your knees in the opposite direction.

“Please…” You're begging but you don't know what for. Once his games were set in motion, nothing could stop him.

Your movements still when you fill him lower his large hand onto your backside. It's so big and warm and you momentarily forget about the rice digging into your skin. He slowly lifts up the skirt of your dress, revealing your underwear beneath.

“Our little Spelling Bee,” he lowers your panties down your thighs, causing a shiver to wrack through your entire body. It's pointless to hide how affected you are by every little thing he does.

“For every word you spell right,” he lifts your leg for you, giving you momentary reprieve from the pain as he manoeuvres you out of the underwear, “You get to cum.”

You'd never felt more degraded: being forced onto doggy style onto a million grains of rice while this man lets his fingers graze over your exposed cunt. He parts your folds and a wave of embarrassment rolls over your face. It's all so normal to him though, just sticking his fingers inside your cunt. He does it with the professionalism of gynecology and all you're able to do is stare blankly ahead while he prods at you.

“We can't make things too easy, though, so you're gonna keep this little thing warm for me while we play,”

You're craning your neck back, trying to get a look. “What thi-”

You release one hoarse gasp when he inserts something round and bulbous and vibrating, straight into your cunt.

“Th-This isn't a game. It's a punishment.” You say through gritted teeth, trying to fight off a moan as the vibrator hums inside you, “I've only ever had sex with one person-”

You. That voice pipes up in the back of your head, feeble as you felt. You think back on the time you gave him your virginity. It had been a bloody affair.

The second his cock ruptured your hymen and the blood began to coat your thighs, it only made him ravage you more. You'd gone to bed crying that night, your tears soaking into your pillows. You were unable to get up and head to classes the next day. All that pain and yet you also felt so incredibly fulfilled. The pain was a godsend.

But this pain? It's angry.

He's angry and he's punishing you for it.

Silence follows your pleas.

“Are you done?” He asks and your shoulders slump as the tears begin to fall. The urge to grind down onto the vibrator coupled with the rice stabbing your knees puts you in an odd predicament. The inner workings of your body is being made a fool of and he's the root cause.

“I'm afraid you've gotten too comfortable with me-”

“Comfortable?” You scoff, whipping your head back to glare at the man watching you with calm eyes and raised eyebrows. “I could never feel comfortable around you.”

“And you've forgotten your place.” He smiles before standing to his full height, “Letting little boys over to your place-”

“We were studying-”

“I've gone soft on you as of late.” He lets his other hand drag across the length of the hard cane. “Shame on me. It's clearly deluded you into forgetting about our arrangement.”

He steps around you until he's once again standing in front of you. “You've forgotten your place as a thing.”

He grabs your face. “My thing.”

You do a very wrong thing then.

You moan.

It's soft and insecure and so dreadful but you moan

His eyes search yours. You can see the pleasure diluting them. Causing them to go as round as saucers.

He wants to lean into that sound you just made, but he's still furious with you and that sends you into a spiral.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay-”

“So you admit you're a slut?” He asks, inches the buttons of his blaze as he readies his assault. “You whore yourself out to that little boyfriend of yours.”

"Boyfriend?” It's laughable. “Me?”

“Are you condescending me?” He asks darkly and you screech in frustration.

“You know I don't talk to anyone- Why are you so angry with me!?”

“You haven't seen angry, Little girl.” His face is calm. Dangerously so. “You haven't fucking seen angry.”

A shiver wracks through your body as you look up at his cold dead eyes.

“Fine.”

Whatever it takes.

“I am a slut-” you really weren't and the words barely register as truth but you're scrambling as he steps away from you. His hands folded in front of him and he appears oh so in control as he says, “Your first word is Gorgeous.”

You breathe out as you try to refocus enough to successfully spell the word.

“G-Oh.. fuck.” Your cunt spasms around the device and your eyes roll back. You're rocking backwards and forwards, frantically searching for friction that just isn't there. He loves the show you put on for him, writhing on the floor like a puppy in heat. He barely contains his glee as he raises his hand and says, “Wrong.”

“W-What!?” you blink, trying to shake away your pleasure-filled daze, “N-no that wasn't my final-”

“G-o-r-g-e-ou-s,” he says smugly as he moves until he's behind you. Your body tenses and the world shatters when he darkly repeats, “Wrong.”

The cane cracks through the air before it ever lands on your backside. The word ‘sting’ doesn't begin to cover the utter agony that blossoms across your asscheeks. All you know for all those seconds is white hot pain. Everything is at attention, and your body vitaly tries to urge you to take care of the inflicted wound but you can't.

“Sane.” He's breathing heavily as he walks over to stand in front of you. He's getting riled up, a strand of black hair falls in front of his almond eyes. His shoulders rise and fall and rise and fall. Seeing you get caned once does unspeakable things to his resolve. “Your next word is sane.”

Too easy.

"W-Which one?" You blink through the pain, trying to will the tears away. The second you slipped into self pity, it'd be over for you. "S-Sane is a homophone.” You say thickly. The pain. The pain. The pain. “There's Sane,” you glare up at him through wet lashes, “Which you very much aren't-" that amuses him greatly. You're regrettably far too happy to hear the dark chuckle. “Then there's Seine, like the fishing variety-”

He places his hand on your head. “Clever girl. I thought you didn't have a dad.”

“I don't,” you hiccup, “I just like fish. Men aren't the only fishers in the fucking world.”

“Smart mouth.” He pulls away again until he's standing at his full posture. “You use it like that with the boy from Psyche?”

Your shoulders slump and you don't care about the desperation in your voice as you reaffirm, “I'm telling you I haven't done anything-”

“Seine as in the fishing practice. Spell it.”

“S-E-I-N-E” your eyes are squeezed shut as you take a strike from a whip that never comes. Your eyes that had once been squeezed shut, slowly flit open and you're amazed to see his grinning face right in front of you. Every wrinkle running like tributaries around his eyes. The smile lines. He's so handsome it's devastating.

“Correct.” He says. “You're allowed to cum. Congratulations.” Just those few words have your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you begin to rock back and forth. You lean into the pleasure like a warm and fluffy blanket during aftercare. It's a godsend and it has you moaning and whining into the air.

“Let me give you a hand,” he says, before stopping to deliver that signature, “My little winner.” He brings you in close, your hands cling onto his forearm while the other reaches behind you. He delivers a kiss to your forehead as his fingers find your puffy clit.

“I'm gonna-”

“Cum for me my Clever girl. Cum for me before I change my mind,” There is nothing but him. He consumes you as you fervently hump against his hand on all fours like the animal he reduced you to. Your hips move on their own accord and in his eyes, you can see his own pleasure mounting. Its in the gravel in his voice when he clears his throat and says, “Thank me for letting you cum.” your orgasm crashes down on you and it's ferocious. It's vicious. It's guttural. The rice underneath you still serves as a reminder of your punishment and that somehow has you coming harder.

“Thank you for letting me cum Sir,”

his eyes flutter shut and his chest expands as he basks in your servitude. He breathes it in, letting it settle in his bones, making him feel as important as he needs to.

“N-No more, please,” you whisper once the orgasm passes. He doesn't switch off the vibrator and soon the pleasure bleeds into a painful discomfort. the aftershocks rattle through your body as you drift into overstimulation, “Please-Done-” you became horribly useless with your words when he had you like this, and he watches you so intently as if not only turned on by your torture but so completely intrugued by it. You intrigued him.

“Stop-” You begin but he chuckles as he moves away from you. He straightens his suit and readies the cane, “Why? You’re not even bleeding yet.” He says, “Suck it up.”

“Oh my god, I need to come again,” it rolls through you quite literally out of nowhere and you gasp as you try to keep it at bay. Cumming without having won a round was a breach in the rules of the game and you didn't wanna do that.

“Well then, I guess you better spell the next word for me.” he says with a smile.

You swallow thickly. Your previous win elicits a tiny sliver of confidence and spelling is something you excel in so you steel your nerves. You breath in deeply and stare blankly ahead.

“Honorificabilitudinitatibus.”

You immediately look up at him.

“Latin words arent-” another aftershock rams through you. You're so close to cumming completely hands-free. “L-Latin words aren't allowed.”

Nothing but a dark chuckle escaped him at your expense. “I had no idea you were making the rules.” He says sarcastically. “Had no idea the cane's in your hand.” That draws your gaze to the cane, leaning in his palm.

Point made.

He could throw in whatever wild-card word he wanted because he held the cane.

“H-o-n-o-r-” you make the mistake of looking up at him then. He's gazing down at you with his head tilted slightly to the right. His cane behind his back as he leans down slightly.

“No cumming,” he tsks, shaking his head. “Disqualified.”

“B-But I didn't-” even as you say those words, you feel it. The lightning zipping through you like a phantom. A ditzy sort of smile flashes across your face as you succumb to the pleasure being forced out of you. “F-Fuck-” its so painful and so fucking good you're seeing stars. He runs a hand through his messy hair and the cane comes down on your backside. This time it draws blood.

“I'm a rusty old man, glad to see I've still got a firm grip,”

“P-Please-” You're still caught in the world of unicorns and rainbows. Your orgasm is center stage, in spite of all the pain. You didn't even know your body could cum for this long. You didn't think it was possible but here you are, riding wave after wave of pleasure induced by a vibrator in your cunt while he canes you almost mindlessly.

He transcended every realm of physical possibilities.

He's breathing heavily now as the cane falls to the floor. The end is bloody. You stare down at the floor while he moves behind you.

“Don't forget, this is a transaction,” Behind you he kneels behind you, his fingers graze your backside, “This is about you avoiding student debt for the rest of your miserable life. A life you'll probably spend married to some depressed drunk who beats you and doesn't even let you cum.” A hand pulls you back by your hair until you're seated on your haunches. Skin had broken.

Your blood drips down your backside like a marble statue in the rain. There were marks. Scars.

“You're indebted to me.” He says behind you. “Say it.”

“I'm indebted to you.”

“Thank me for hitting you, Doll.” His hands drift over your body. The softest touch after these moments of brutality.

Th-" You struggle to catch your breath as he digs his fingers in your cunt, finally freeing you of the vibrator that rattles to the floor, “Thank you… for hitting me.”

He hums into your hair, smelling you, feeling you. “You're welcome, my little winner,”

You hear the sound of his zipper, and frantic movements behind you. You're utterly spent. You'd let him do anything he wanted. Anything at all.

“You look so pretty, Baby. Look at you,” his fingers swipes down the arch of your back. He brings his hand around to show you the crimson dropping from his index. Almost automatically as if the two of you were in communication far beyond that of human understanding, he brings your finger forward the same time you dip your head lower and roll your tongue out. Until the taste of your own blood drawn from all his sadistic torture is wiped along your tongue.

He groans. “I wanna jerk off with your blood.” He admits, “Fuck-”

You gasp, beginning to rock on haunches as if you could still feel that vibrator inside you, “Please- don't say stuff like that-”

This was bad enough.

You were bad enough.

He's already corrupted you to a point where you didn't even recognize yourself.

Where is the quiet, shy girl you had been? She's drowning under all the blood he'd spilled to make himself cum. She's buried under all the pain, all the turmoil and all the damn torture.

You don't miss her

"Pl-lease fuck me, I need it." Your voice is hoarse and you realize you're making demands but still you peer at him over your shoulders. Your tired eyes plead with him.

“I never ever ask you for anything. I've let you control everything.”

While you speak, your voice deep and hoarse, his hand is already moving over his erection. He bends you forward, until you're in doggy style again. Fabric rustles. Your limbs are trembling.

“For once, just grant me th-” the words are barely out your mouth before he's shoving his cock all the way inside you.

“O-Oh God!” Your eyes squeeze shut as he fucks you on the floor like a rabid animal. You try to crane your head back, to watch him ravage you.

His hair is a mess, his tie completely undone. He's everything he tries to hide from the rest of the world. Nothing but an untamed beast.

“Your cunt is so fucking tight-” he says, resting his hands on bloody ass. He guides your movements, pulling you roughly down on his cock until you're screaming into the open air. You're both like animals. You've both regressed to the very basis of your instincts.

“I need to see your blood on my cock,” He's already pulling out of you. The sound reverberates with finality all around the apartment and you cry. It's all you're able to do as you crane your head back to watch him stroke his cock with a bloodied fist.

“Are you ready to cum for me again, baby?”

Your lips are quivering as you rock backwards urging his cock in, “L-Like you won't believe,”

“Then cum for me, Princess.” He says, sliding his cock back inside your overstimulated cunt. Your orgasm is instant and swift and it rocks through you, tightening your cunt around his cock like a vice. His movements grow more frantic as he fucks you through it, keeping a firm grip on your ass.

Your mouth falls open when you realize he's fucking his own cum and your blood back into you and its all too much. He throws his head back when he cums, letting his hips stutter against your ass and the world spins.

“You're s-such a fucking slut,” he laughs manically. You've quite literally given yourself to a sadistic monster and the post nut clarity is vicious.

“I want to take you out,” he says, way softer than he had been a minute ago.

Your body tenses. “Out? Where-”

“Dinner.” He says. “You deserve it… my little winner.”

If you knew anything about anything, you knew it wouldn't just be any ordinary dinner.

But who were you to refuse?

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[kamitv]

▷ Holiday Headcanons

Synopsis . Things your jjk partner does during the holidays! / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Sukuna x f!reader, Ino x f!reader, Yuki x f!reader, Shoko x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, modern au, fluff, creampies, soft sex, rough sex, filth, breeding, bondage, choking, oral sex, praise, dirty talk, sfw content, etc . / wc . idk ngl...!

A/N: Merry Christmas Ladies & Gentlemen! This isn’t proofread so please excuse any errors. Thank you guys sm for 7k on this account!! I hope you all have a wonderful day/night!! <33 [MDNI]

❅ Gojo Satoru

NSFW

Who's first present to you comes early in the morning at the ass crack of dawn, consisting of his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear as he rasps a needy plead—aching to get a taste of you to start his Christmas off "properly."

Naturally, you let Gojo get what he wants since that’s one less gift you have to worry about. That, and it’s a gift that just keeps on giving because as soon as he’s settled in between your legs, he’s smiling from ear to ear and swallowing down the drool that threatens to spill past his eager lips.

And when he finally latches that heavenly mouth of his onto you? Oh it’s over. He’s so glad he woke up early for this because nothing could pull him away from the honeyed slick of your cunt at this very moment—not even the perfectly wrapped presents awaiting the two of you just out in your shared living room.

Part of what has him so feral once his tongue is on you is probably the lacy festive blue panties you decided to sleep with. They match his eyes and there’s this pretty bow in the center… unfortunately, he was too caught up on trying to get your pussy against his tongue to admire the fabric longer. Now the garment lays in tatters just a few inches away from your quivering legs that dangle so prettily over his shoulders.

SFW

Had a snowball fight with you seconds after the first speck of white came falling from the sky.

Who spent weeks making sure that every inch of your shared home was adorned in pretty festive decorations.

Has literally bought you all that you couldn't think of and more for the special day. Gift after gift awaits you in that overly decorated living room of yours.

Adores this day and season because he has another excuse to spoil the fuck out of you. It’s no big deal that he bought you a vacation home or two… right? And the three vehicles he purchased were only necessary since you’d mentioned how much you liked them one time (around six months ago or something—not that he kept track or anything…) as the model drove by…

❅ Geto Suguru

NSFW

With Suguru, it’s actually you who’s extra freaky around Christmas. Sure, you love the festivities and everything but what/who do you love even more than that? Your husband. Or, more specifically, the thick cock he gifts you with all year long.

How could you not spend Christmas night with Geto’s dick sliding in and out of your mouth—having told him some measly excuse about how the mistletoe is hanging in the back of your throat this year and there’s only one way to share a kiss beneath it properly..!

Your glossy eyes remain up on his darkened purple ones and he looks so fucking grateful to have you. Geto stands with parted lips and bated breath as he watches you use that slutty mouth of yours to worship every inch of his pretty cock. You’ve got drool and spit dripping all down your chin but you don’t seem to have a care in the world. Hell, you probably don’t even have a thought in that cockdrunk head of yours right now either.

Geto even tries to pull himself out of your mouth (so he can catch a small break) only for you to let off a needy whine of his name and chase after him—latching your lips and tongue onto his oh-so-sensitive drooling tip just to suckle on him like you can’t function properly without his cock resting against your lips (and hey, maybe you can’t).

SFW

Impresses your parents on Christmas day flawlessly with the most perfect gifts for them (he unintentionally outdoes your gifts).

Spoils you like crazy with more than just gifts by being at your beck and call a bit more than usual. He’s always attentive but on Christmas he seems to he even moreso than normal.

Who lets you style his hair however you want with ribbons and bows while actively wearing a poorly made Christmas sweater the two of you made the year prior to the current.

Loves playing Christmas themed games with you because they remind him of playing games with Satoru (who occasionally joins the two of you around this time). You’re just as competitive as he is and even the most simple games turn into full on competitive events between the two of you.

❅ Toji Fushiguro

NSFW

It’s not until Christmas night that you get your real present from Mr. Fushiguro, your doting husband of God knows how many years now.

Watching you care and love on Megumi and Tsumiki all day was just the push he needed to later want to fuck yet another child into that gorgeous body of yours.

It started off as him being all soft with you, giving you that big bear hug from behind as he murmured into your ear—asking you if you enjoyed this year’s Christmas ‘n whatnot… only to lead to him casually suggesting that you two make the family a bit larger. Later rasping into your ear again, this time while you’re folded into a mind-numbing mating press, about how it’s time to give you your last present of the day.

His cock is throbbing more than normal too, whole body tense with a coarse mix of lust and love that he has for you. Oh how he could never truly get over the sight of you all under him like this with your eyes flickering back, nails clawing against his skin, and sweet softened moans of his name spilling from your lips.

It’s not long before the headboard is making not-so-subtle taps against the wall as he loses himself within the warm gushing depths of your cunt, fat cockhead only swelling more and more when you have the gall to utter the words, “Y-Yeah.. hnngh, fuck another b-baby into me, Toji,” And who ever is he to deny you of such a request?

SFW

Spends most of the day trying to bite back his smile as he watched his two kids open presents you bought for them. Their eyes light up with each gift and Toji’s poor heart only flutters with that uncomfortable warmth of love he can never quite get used to.

Keeps his best poker face on when Tsumiki and Megumi give him a gift. Toji tries to act like the little family drawing the two kids made doesn’t mean anything to him, going as far as laughing at how wonky the artwork is and everything but… the drawing is stuck onto the fridge the very second after the kids turn their head away from him and if anyone paid close enough attention to the big softie—they would’ve spotted his eyes glossing over ever so slightly.

You always get him the best gifts. Or at least, that’s what Toji tells you. Whether it be cologne or simply just a plate of Christmas breakfast in the morning—the man swears his wife outdoes herself every year. What would he do without you?

Doesn’t care too much for the snow but seeing you build snowmen and make snow-angels with his kids will always make him stand out in the crisp cold air for moments longer than he normally ever would. Usually with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, standing all mysteriously and brooding by the front door of your shared home as he watches you three run around and make fools of yourself—anyone who looks at him at the right second would catch a little grin quirking against those scared lips of his.

❅ Sukuna Ryomen

NSFW

As soon as the clock strikes twelve and Christmas has hit, he’s grabbing every red ribbon of fabric in the vicinity and wrapping his most important present (you) up to his liking.

Sukuna just loves seeing you tied up, especially on Christmas Day. One year he had your arms box-tied at your arched back as your cheeks were buried down into the sheets and his rough tattooed hands scaled along each exposed sliver of your skin. You were, quite literally, his prettiest present every year.

Sometimes you surprised him and tied yourself up in a new way—the sight never once failing to make his cock spring up. Oh and when he fucks you while you’re all tied up? He loses his mind every single time. Which is part of why he doesn’t do this all year long.

Christmas is the only day of the year where he really goes above and beyond with the whole bondage thing. Truth be told, seeing your fingers wiggle for touch and your body twitching for a moment of release as he fucks you to tears is one of his biggest and sole weaknesses in the world. It’s so sexy—especially with the cries of his name that follows along with the pleasing for him to let you touch his body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on the way you always try wiggling away from him while your limbs are bound, no matter the position. The face you make, the way your cunt spasms—you do it every single time you’re about to cum for the nth time and it drives him fucking insane. Suddenly he can’t help but bully his angry cock into that sensitive sappy spot inside you that you’re so desperately trying to pull away from…

SFW

Definitely dresses up as the Grinch just to terrorize his child nephew, Yuji—who he knows you adore more than anything.

Yeah, you thought it was odd when you woke up on Christmas morning and your husband was nowhere to be found but when you made your way downstairs alongside a five or six year old Yuji to get the morning started… here comes your husband dressed in that iconic furred green suit and red coat—invoking a shriek from the poor boy beside you as he watched his uncle snatch up all the presents from beneath the Christmas tree.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or scold the man in the moment but either way, the event was memorable nonetheless. In Sukuna’s mind, nothing will ever beat the widening of your eyes and the dramatics that brat beside you displayed over some toys being snatched up.

He’ll never ever say it out loud to anyone aside from you but, he actually quite enjoys Christmas. Or, he has enjoyed it ever since you made him watch The Grinch—hence his antics surrounding the character. Hell, his first comment about that movie was something along the lines of, “Hah. I like the way this guy thinks already.”

Mind you, you were barely even half an hour in.

❅ Ino Takuma

NSFW

On Christmas, it’s just you and him this year so… after all the literal gifts have been opened and all the sweet things have been exchanged……. Ino’s offering his body to you entirely.

Mid-day, you swear you left him in your bedroom for hardly even five minutes only to return to his legs sprawled apart and his hard cock exposed & decorated with a cute bow wrapped around his hefty base. Then his hands are tied behind his back—part of you wondering how he even managed to do that in such a short period of time..

His brown hair is all tousled and his breathing is unsteady already. You’ve seen and felt every inch of him time and time before but offering himself ip to you like this was oh so embarrassing for the poor man. The instant your eyes fall onto his cock, his tip leaks in a messy slip of pre.

Ino can only take a deep breath and try to work up his confidence just to weigh his head to the side and lift a brow, “Well, baby? Merry Christmas. Come unwrap your final present…”

SFW

Ino loves going out with you durning the holiday season. Especially ice skating—even if you’re good or bad at it, he loves being out there on the ice with you.

Something about laughing in the cold until your cheeks burn makes his heart throb within his chest. Ino loves spending this season with you because he swears every small moment feels like a movie when he’s with you.

He definitely still leaves out cookies and milk for Santa and will debate with you for hours on end about how the guy is 100% real.

Goes, “Aww, babbyyyyy..” to literally each and every single gift you give him, soon followed by a sweet, “You didn’t have to get this for mee..!” He’s not ungrateful or anything but, even though you’re his girlfriend of like two years now, he’ll never quite get used to receiving gifts from you & he’s too damn humble for his own good.

❅ Yuki Tsukumo

NSFW

You make the ‘mistake’ of gifting her a strap for Christmas and she makes good use of it that same night.

Practically every position you can imagine & be stretched into—she’s got you in. You always knew your girlfriend had some mean hips on her but when she’s got this lengthy cock strapped onto those hips and she just working the thick ‘n hard inches of the plastic inside you at a brutal pace, you can’t even breathe properly enough to respond to her little comments of, “Aw, look at my girll… takin’ all of me so well, aren’t you pretty?”

Teasing you too with huffs of, “This is the best gift ever, cutie. I mean, hah..” She’d flash that knowing sexy grin of hers, “Jus’ look at this pussy—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this wet before.”

You’re not too sure if you regret the purchase or if it’s the best thing you’ve ever bought for the woman but either way; in return for buying her that damn strap, Yuki gifts you with the meanest backshots not too long after opening her gift. She’s gotta make sure it works, right?

Hand around your throat, tipping your head back, lustful eye contact, heavy pants of your name, and praises pouring from her blush pink lips—Yuki’s probably never letting this gift go to waste.

SFW

She’s competitive so around this time of year, any winter spot imaginable… you’re playing or participating in with her (and probably losing).

Who loves making snow angels with you and then comparing the sized of the two, making fun of yours even if it were only the slightest bit smaller than her own.

Goes on these insane morning runs with shorts on ‘n everything. You find her bizarre for it and almost died the one time she’d convinced you to go on one with her.

Both of you would definitely give each other the same number of gifts literally every year. It’s always unintentional and completely coincidental but for whatever reason, if you got ten gifts: she got ten. If she got thirty, you got thirty. Even if you got one, she somehow got one as well. It’s silly but it keeps happening and both of you assume it’s the world’s way of telling you you’re perfect for one another.

❅ Shoko Ieiri

NSFW

Ties a bow around her middle and ring finger and gives you this smirk that leads to literally everything else.

It’d be after gifts have been opened and stories have been shared that she’s out by the fireplace with you, knuckle deep in your cunt as your sweet slick trickles down her slender fingers and coats the fabric she has around her digits.

Who doesn’t ever get tired of fingering you and never ever fails to amaze you because somehow her hands never seem to cramp up on her (or maybe that’s just from the years she spent with you but who knows..).

Once she’s satisfied with getting you off numerous times, Shoko will tell you that there’s another bow she wants you to find. That’s how you end up in between her pretty legs, tugging a lacey red bow that was tired around her upper thigh down her leg. And from there, it’s only fair that you enjoy your Christmas dessert that’s presented so deliciously in front of you—especially when she takes those two fingers from earlier and spreads herself open for you. The drool from her cunt matches the drool from your lips—how cute.

SFW

Building snowmen with you is something she cant get enough of. Especially considering the time you both built one another and you’d given her a small stick to resemble the cigarette she’s always got lodged in between her lips.

Who loves going to new cafes with you around this time for whatever reason. Something about the cold just makes her want to try all sorts of different warm beverages and who better to go try these things with than her loving wife?

Goes on a Christmas movie marathon with you because your presence during movies alone is enough to make her heart flutter.

You got her a pack of cigarettes one year as a joke but she actually appreciated it more than you realized. This was earlier on in your relationship and that gift was part of what motivated her to want to quit smoking (well, that & she’d like to live by your side for as long as possible).

❅ Choso Kamo

NSFW

Fucking his cum into you for a few hours is as good as any other gift he’s given you, right? Especially after seeing how you are around his brothers—so kind and doting, you’d make the perfect mother.

Hence the incoherent mutters of Choso wanting you to have his child later that night. All you did was give him the lovestruck look when he suggested it and it was over from there. He couldn’t stop himself from bending you in all sorts of positions, angling his hips into you perfecting and moaning about how desperately he needs you to take everything he gives you.

Who can’t even think straight when you look him in the eyes and praise him for how good he’s funking you—not that this is new or anything… But then you started teasing him. “C’mon Cho, r-right there. Gimme one more, fuck me nice ‘n full—mmgh..” Oh, you were sure to be the cause of his death that night.

He sees white by the time he cums again, something he’ll later tease you about with a stupidly unserious comment of, “Guess we really did have a white Christmas after all, huh?”

SFW

It’s winter so whenever you two walk together, he takes your hand, holds it tightly, and then pulls it into his pocket as the two of you walk together.

Who kinda adores the snow and cold weather for the simple fact that it hides how much he blushes around you and gives him a new excuse to use.

Loves seeing the happy look on your fave when you open presents, it makes him fall for you even harder and all he wants to do is provide the whole world and more just to keep that expression on your face.

Spends most of the holiday with his brothers and majority of his paychecks around this time are blown on providing gifts for his siblings—many purchases made without even so much as a price check beforehand.

❅ Nanami Kento

NSFW

Cooking Christmas dinner ends up with you either bent over the counter or spread out on top of the counter every year. Nanami basically calls it tradition at this point. He just has to have you instead of focusing on finishing the meal set for Christmas day.

And what makes it so much better is that Nanami also uses this time to reveal how much he’s into food play. The man can’t help but want to lick some sort of frosting or cream (aside from his own) up off of your soft skin. Swearing everything tastes better when it’s eaten off of you.

Or, sometimes Nanami claims that pistoning his sharp hips into you while you’re bent over the counter helps him focus on reading the recipe to whatever he’s making. Apparently your moans keep him focused on the task at hand (literally) and each clench of your cunt around his thick shaft make his senses sharper (his words not mine…).

That, and there’s nothing more fun than leaving a cliche powdered handprint on the fat of your ass after a couple smacks in between his rough thrusts. You find his ability to multitask insane. He’s fucking your legs to complete mush and yet baking a cake at the same time like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Not to mention the way he’ll have you suck a taste test off of his fingers just to hear you moan out a stuttered response of how good it tastes.

SFW

Nanami is the best gift giver, naturally. Okay, yeah, you mentioned this item once as you were describing to him a dream you had like three years ago before the two of you were even together but who caresss, right? It’s not his fault he has such a sharp memory and has hung off of your every word for as long as he’s known you…

One thing your husband loves to do around this time is slow dance with you to some classical Christmas music. It feels sappy and sweet—swaying with the love of his life as joyful steady music flitters within the air.

He definitely cannot wait to have children with you because he sees the way your face lights up as you watch children durning the holidays. Their laughter is so pure and really brings the Christmas spirit into the hearts of anyone nearby.

Who doesn’t go crazy with decorations or anything but he will have one absurdly large tree with a ridiculous number of ornaments just because.

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

[starswirly]

Staring the artfight website down. Why are you like this.

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (one)

requested here;

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader. word count: 8.9k

The North Carolina heat simmered under the August sun, but the sprawling campus of the university felt like a different world, far removed from the humid beaches of figure eight. This was a place where social lines blurred, where kooks and pogues no longer carried the same weight, they did back home.

Or at least, that’s what you had hoped.

Of course, Rafe Cameron, had to ruin that for you. When you found out, he’d gotten into the same school as you, you had begged your lucky stars and then some, that he’d stay the hell out of your way. It was one thing to put up with his bullshit back home, it was easy to avoid him since you attended very different high schools. Very different places and crowds.

He was an arrogant, entitled brat, always ready to throw his family’s money around to get what he wanted. But here, on campus, you hoped things would be different. You hoped that the prestige and maturity of university life would somehow keep him away. After all, wasn’t this a fresh start for everyone?

 But now his name was plastered in the same class as you. 

You had never thought you'd find yourself in the same academic sphere as him. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t give a shit about history, let alone the History of Empire, Colonialism and Post-colonialism. His major was…something to do with business, you were sure of it.  It had to be a mistake. Some sort of system error, of course.

The first day of classes, however, quickly ruined any hopes of a peaceful coexistence. As you entered the lecture hall for your course—you saw him. Rafe sat in the middle of the room, slouched back in his chair with that same self-assured stupid smirk that made you want to throw a table at this face. His presence was an unwanted reminder of everything you were trying to escape. 

Labels. Constant violence between clicks.

You took a seat as far from him as possible, near the front where you could focus on the lecture and block out any distractions. 

“Oh, if it isn’t my favorite pogue.”

Your heart sank at the sound of his voice, that familiar sneer cutting through the quiet anticipation that filled the lecture hall. You didn’t even need to turn around to know he was talking to you. But you did.

He leaned back in his chair; arms crossed with an air of superiority that had always grated on you. His voice was just loud enough to catch the attention of a few other students nearby, some of whom glanced your way with mild curiosity. It was the kind of attention you had hoped to avoid, but of course, Rafe had other plans.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d be interested in a class like this,” he continued, his tone dripping with condescension. “I figured you’d stick to something more…fitting.”

He was so infuriating. Didn’t even know the first thing about you or your major.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let him get a rise out of you. He was baiting you, trying to get under your skin like he always did back home. The smirk on his face told you he was enjoying this far too much.

“It’s a required course, Cameron,” you replied coolly, turning back to face the front of the room. “Not that you’d know anything about what’s fitting for me.”

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “Touchy, touchy. Come on, we’re not in high school anymore. We’re all adults here, right? Let’s play nice.”

“Why are you here?”

His smirk widened at your question as if he’d been waiting for you to ask. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just waltzed into a class that was clearly way out of his depth.

“Had a spare elective to fill,” he said with a shrug as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Thought this class would be easy enough—history and all that. Figured I’d coast through it.”

You couldn’t help it; you laughed. The sound burst out of you, catching Rafe off guard. His smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he wasn’t sure whether to be offended or amused.

“Coast through it?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “You really have no idea what you’ve signed up for, do you?”

Rafe’s expression shifted, a flash of irritation crossing his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You turned in your seat to face him fully, a small, satisfied grin playing on your lips. For once, you had the upper hand, and you were going to enjoy it. 

“This isn’t some high school history class. We’re talking about the intricacies of empire-building, the impact of colonialism on societies, and the complexities of post-colonial power dynamics. It’s not exactly lightreading.”

He looked at you skeptically, “So what, it’s a bunch of essays and books? How hard can it be? You’re here.”

So charming it nearly killed you.

You raised an eyebrow at his last comment, letting the subtle insult roll off your back. “Good luck then.”

Rafe’s bravado faltered even more, but he quickly recovered, leaning back in his chair again, “Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong then, won’t I little pogue?”

You shrugged, turning back to the front of the room as the professor started speaking, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. It was almost laughable—Rafe Cameron, who probably hadn’t read a book cover to cover since middle school, thinking he could breeze through a class that was known for being one of the toughest in the department. You almost felt sorry for him.

 Almost.

As the professor launched into a discussion about the British Empire and its influence on global trade, you kept half an ear on the lecture and half on Rafe, curious to see how he would react. At first, he seemed content to doodle in the margins of his notebook, barely paying attention. But as the lecture went on, you noticed him glancing up more often, his brow furrowing slightly as the professor delved into the complexities of colonial economics.

Oh, this was going to be so much fun. Maybe watching Rafe finally struggle at one little thing in life was exactly what you needed.

You couldn’t resist the urge to glance back at him when the professor mentioned the labor-intensive plantation economies in the Caribbean. Rafe was staring at the board now, his expression more… confused? Blue eyes moved along the words as if they didn’t make any sense to him. Maybe this class would be the humbling experience he desperately needed.

When the lecture ended, he was one of the first to stand, shoving his notebook into his bag with a little more force than necessary. You had to bite back a laugh, again.

You took your time gathering your things, waiting for him to make a move or say something, but he just walked out without another word. Ooops. Maybe Big Bad Rafe learned a new lesson. 

The semester rolled on, you and Rafe went back to avoiding each other in class. 

You watched with a certain amount of satisfaction as he struggled through lectures, occasionally catching him furiously scribbling notes or staring blankly at the professor as if the concepts were being explained in a foreign language. It was almost comical to see someone like him so out of his element. Every time he fumbled an answer during a class discussion or looked around for someone to give him a clue, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of vindication. 

Meanwhile, you kept your distance, focusing on your work and trying to understand the complexitiesof university life on your own terms. But as the days passed, it became harder to ignore a different reality setting in—one you hadn’t expected. 

Uni wasn’t so different from home, not to you at least. Despite your hopes, it seemed the lines between kooks and pogues hadn’t entirely disappeared. Sure, the university was supposed to be a place of new beginnings, but you found yourself struggling to fit in.

You weren't exactly the social butterfly, and you could count your friends on one hand. The cliques here were different—subtler than the ones back home, but just as impenetrable. Weekends were the hardest, with endless Instagram stories of parties you weren’t invited to, people forming bonds over experiences you didn’t share. It hurt more than you’d care to admit. 

Maybe you weren’t putting yourself out there enough, but could you really afford to? You were on a full scholarship, and parties were the last thing on your mind—you couldn’t afford to mess this up. Every penny went to essentials like food and books. Fashion and makeup weren’t even on the radar, but in another world, maybe they would’ve been. A girl could dream.

And then there was Nate. 

Dreamy, golden Nate—a junior with a smile that could light up a room. He was so…perfect. You’d been crushing on him since the first day you saw him in the hallway, before your social studies class, but he didn’t even know you existed. He asked you for a pen in class once, and you nearly freaked out. He’d been so polite. Your heart pounded so loud you were sure he could hear it. But after that brief moment, it was like you faded back into the background. He returned the pen with a cute thanks and moved on, like you were just another face in the crowd. It was silly to hold on to that tiny interaction, but you couldn’t help it. 

Boys like Nate never looked at you. You didn’t have the spark they searched for. 

Unfortunately, Rafe still did.

After another particularly grueling lecture, you were packing up your things when you heard that all-too-familiar nasal voice behind you. 

“Enjoying the view from the front of the class?”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to turn around. You’d been having a shit week, fed up with being alone. Your friends from back home had their own life’s now, so talking to them was almost impossible too. 

You were on the brink of an existential crisis.

“I’m surprised you’re still showing up. Thought you’d have dropped by now.”

Rafe didn’t respond immediately, and when he did, his voice had a sharper edge than usual. “Y'know, I might not be the smartest in this stupid class, but at least ‘m not alone all the time.”

That made you pause, your hands stilling over your notebook. You slowly turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He crossed his arms with that same infuriating lazy smirk, but there was something different about it this time—something colder.

“It means I’m having the time of my life watching you struggle, watching you be miserable while everyone else is out having fun. Not invited to any parties, huh? Must suck.”

The fake pity almost made you lose your temper. You hadn’t realized he’d been paying that much attention, hadn’t considered that he’d notice, but of course, he’d put in the work to make a pogue’s life even worse.

The truth in his words stung even more because it was exactly what you’d been feeling, what you’d been trying to ignore. But now, hearing it out loud, from him of all people, made it so much worse.

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure, “Not everyone has daddy’s money, some of us have to put in the work. You think I give a shit about stupid parties?”

His left eye twitched in irritation and for a second you thought you had hit it where it hurts, but instead, he chuckled through his nose, “Must be exhausting, trying to prove something to everyone.”

“I don’t know. Is it?” You snapped, unable to hold back any longer, “This isn’t Figure Eight. Leave me the hell alone.”

“Where’s the fun in that, hmm?”

Rafe's smirk widened; his eyes gleaming with that familiar arrogance. He thrived on getting under people's skin, especially someone like you. It was a sick game he played, always pushing, always testing, just to see how much it would take for someone to crack. He was sick.

“You know,” he continued, his tone mockingly thoughtful, “Maybe I should keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t drown in all this responsibility.”

His words were smooth, almost kind, but the condescension behind them was palpable.

You could feel your blood boiling, but you knew better than to give him the satisfaction of seeing you snap. Rafe was the kind of guy who fed on drama, who would twist any reaction into ammunition against you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, your voice cold as ice.

He chuckled, pushing off the desk and taking a step closer. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy our little chats. I’m the only excitement you get around here.”

The nerve of him. The arrogance. What was he getting out of this?

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said, your voice laced with sarcasm, “but I’d rather shoot myself in the face than spend another minute talking to you. Goodbye.”

You left the classroom that day with your heart pounding. You pushed his words aside, focusing on what mattered: your studies, your goals, and making it through each day. 

Weeks passed, and slowly, life at university began to shift. You met two girls in your sociology class—Ava and Harper. They were the kind of girls who seemed to have everything together: effortlessly stylish, confident, and always surrounded by friends. You’d admired them from a distance, never thinking they’d notice someone like you. But one day, after an impromptu group discussion, they invited you to join them for coffee. That was a big day.

Ava was a whirlwind of energy, always laughing, always with a story to tell. Harper was more reserved, but her quiet confidence and sharp wit drew you in. She was hilarious.

To your surprise, they were kind, and over time, the three of you became inseparable. You weren’t alone anymore. For the first time in weeks, you started to feel like you belonged. They didn’t care that you were a pogue, not even knowing what that meant. They liked you for you, and that meant more than anything. 

One Tuesday night, Ava and Harper invited you to a party. It was the kind of party you’d only seen in movies—the fraternity house was practically a mansion, very different from the bonfire parties you were used to back home. You hesitated at first, thinking about your responsibilities. But they insisted, promising it would be fun, and you knew you could use a break. After all, it was just one night.

When you arrived, the music was pounding, lights flashing in time with the beat. People were dancing, and laughing, and the air was filled with the scent of perfume and alcohol. Ava and Harper pulled you into the crowd, introducing you to people you’d never have approached on your own. You were nervous, but they made it easier, always by your side, making sure you felt included.

After a while, you decided to grab a drink, needing a moment to yourself to take it all in. You found the kitchen, which was packed with people mixing drinks, talking loudly over the music. You were pouring yourself a soda when you felt a presence beside you—someone too close for comfort.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a familiar voice drawled.

Rafe. Because of course, he’d be here, at the very party you’d finally decided to attend. You kept your eyes on your drink, not wanting to engage, but he wasn’t going to let you off that easy.

“What, no comeback?” he teased, leaning against the counter beside you. “That’s not like you.”

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself not to let him get to you. “I’m not in the mood, Cameron.”

He smirked, picking up a beer bottle and taking a swig. “Looks like you’ve upgraded your company. Ava and Harper, huh? Good for you. But I have to ask… how does it feel to be the DUFF?”

You blinked, finally looking up at him with confusion written all over your face. “What the fuck is a DUFF?”

 “Designated Ugly Fat Friend,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Y'know, the one who makes their hotter friends look even better by comparison.”

For a moment, you were stunned into silence, processing the insult. It wasn’t just a casual dig; it was calculated, meant to hit where it hurt most. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“That’s…wow.”

Rafe chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “Don’t take it so personally. It’s just a fact of life. Every group has a DUFF. Just figured you’d want to know your role.”

You stared at him, disbelief mixing with anger. “You’re seriously messed up, you know that?”

He shrugged, still smiling like this was all a game to him. “Just calling it like I see it.”

Your hand tightened around the cup in your hand. Before you could second-guess yourself, you flung the contents right into his face. The soda splashed across his perfectly styled long hair and down his designer shirt, leaving him momentarily stunned. The smirk vanished, replaced by a look of pure shock as the cold liquid dripped off his chin. The entire kitchen seemed to go silent for a moment as people nearby turned to see what had just happened.

Rafe blinked, his expression shifting from shock to something darker—anger, maybe, or disbelief that you’d actually had the nerve to do that. His jaw clenched, and for a split second, you thought he might actually retaliate.

But before he could say or do anything, you stepped closer, “Go fuck yourself.”

That was your last interaction for weeks.

He kept his distance, barely acknowledging you in class or around campus. It was almost as if the drink you threw in his face had washed away his relentless need to torment you. You couldn’t say you missed his attention, but the silence was unnerving in its own way. Knowing him, he could be brewing something much worse to fuck with your head. 

One afternoon, after a particularly tough class, you were gathering your things when you noticed Rafe hovering near the door. His usual cocky demeanor was gone, replaced by something almost...nervous. He caught your eye and hesitated before approaching as if debating whether to say something or just walk away.

“Hey,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically low.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the lack of smugness in his tone.

“What do you want?”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. “I, uh…I need your help.”

That was the last thing you expected to hear. You stopped packing your bag, staring at him in disbelief. “My help? With what?”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, clearly out of his element. “The exam. The one we had last week. I just got my grade back, and…uh, I failed. Hard. I don’t know what happened, but I need to do well in this class, and I’m completely fucked if I don’t turn things around. You seem to know your stuff, so…c-can you help me? I’ll make it worth your while.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on you. 

“You must be out of your fucking mind,” you said, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. “I don’t want anything from you. Good luck failing.”

He looked almost panicked like he hadn’t expected you to turn him down so quickly. Surely, he knew you hated him with all your strength, right?

“Wait—Wait up! What about Nate Archibald?”

You froze, your mind racing. How the hell did he know about Nate? 

Your crush on the older guy was something you’d kept to yourself, shared only in passing with your girlfriends. But Rafe’s mention of it made your stomach drop.

“What about Archibald?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d rattled you.

He seemed to sense he was onto something, his desperation shifting into a more calculated expression. “Look, I know you like him. It’s not exactly a fucking secret okay? Even if you think it is. He’s a good guy I guess, but he doesn’t know you exist. You help me out, and I’ll help you get his attention. I can introduce you, get you in with his crowd.”

“I don’t like Nate.”

He rolled his eyes, “You were doodling his name on your notebook two weeks ago.”

Your stomach dropped at his words.

Two weeks ago, you had been sitting in the back of the lecture hall, barely paying attention to the professor as your mind drifted to Nate. You’d doodled his name absentmindedly, never imagining someone would notice, let alone remember. You were bored and you’d seen him earlier, arriving to school in his truck. He’d looked so dreamy it was all you thought about. 

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“No?”

“Jesus. It’s a crush, relax.”

“You were spying on me?” you hissed, embarrassment creeping into your voice.

Rafe shook his head, his tone more exasperated than anything. “I wasn’t spying, all right? I just noticed.”

“You’re such a fucking creep.”

Your heart raced, both with anger and with the tiniest snippet of hope. The idea of Nate finally noticing you was tempting, but you hated that it was Rafe offering it to you, as if he could manipulate your feelings just like that. You knew better than to trust him. And yet, he seemed genuinely humbled—at least, as humbled as someone like him could be. He would’ve never asked you for help if the fear of failure wasn’t eating him alive. 

You narrowed your eyes, studying him closely. “Why should I believe you?”

He sighed, hands rubbing his face in frustration, “I just want to pass this stupid class, m’kay? I don’t give a fuck about Archibald, but if that’s what will get you to help me, I’ll do it.”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to tell him to go to hell and the small, persistent voice in your head that wondered if this could actually work in your favor. You’d worked so hard to keep your head down, to stay focused, but the idea of finally having a shot with someone like Nate was hard to ignore.

“You’re gonna make Nate notice a DUFF?”

Rafe's smirk returned, though it was less confident than usual, tinged with something almost vulnerable. “You’ve got potential.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. Part of you wanted to tell him to screw off, to take his offer and shove it up his ass. But the other part—the part that had spent sleepless nights wondering if you’d ever really fit in here, if you’d ever be more than just another face in the crowd—was tempted. Rafe was offering you a way in, a chance to break through the invisible barriers that had kept you on the outside looking in.

“Okay,” you said finally, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “I’ll help you, but don’t think for a second that I’m doing this shit for you. And if you screw me over, I swear, Rafe, I’ll kill you.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “Deal.”

You and Rafe met up in the library for your first "study session."

The awkwardness was palpable. He was slouched in his chair, trying to act indifferent, but you could see the tension in his jaw as he stared at the textbook in front of him. He was flipping through a history textbook with a blank expression, as if the words on the page were written in latin.

"Alright," you began, flipping open your notebook. "Let's start with the basics, because clearly, you’re lost."

Rafe rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. One day they were going to get stuck inside his brain from how much he did it. He grunted in acknowledgment, though his attention didn’t lift from the page. 

You sighed and leaned forward, tapping on the open textbook in front of him, “We’re focusing on the economic factors that contributed to the development of plantation societies. You get that, right?”

He blinked, clearly not getting it. A perfect himbo.

“Okay, fine. The plantations needed a lot of labor. So, what’s the most cost-effective way to get that labor?”

Rafe shrugged. “Slaves?”

“Right, but it’s more complex than that,” you continued, trying to be patient. “The demand for crops like sugar and tobacco skyrocketed in Europe, so they needed cheap labor to maximize profits. That’s where the transatlantic slave trade comes in. It wasn’t just about the labor, it was about the entire economic system that developed around it.”

He nodded slowly, jotting down notes. “So, it’s like… the whole economy was built on this?”

“Exactly,” you said, a bit surprised he was actually paying attention. “And you need to understand how that impacted the societies, both in the Caribbean and in Europe. It’s not just about memorizing facts; it’s about understanding the connections.”

“Okay, I get it,” he muttered, though you could tell he was still struggling. “This shit’s more complicated than I thought.”

“If you don’t understand something, just ask. I’m not going to bite your head off.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smirked, but there was no malice in his tone this time.

“Anyway. This also reshaped societies on both sides of the Atlantic. The Caribbean, for instance, became a hub of sugar production, with plantations dominating the landscape. These plantations were brutal, with slaves working in horrific conditions. But they were also incredibly profitable, which is why they persisted for so long.”

He seemed to be processing this, his pen tapping rhythmically against the edge of his notebook. “And the people back in Europe…they were cool with this? Just letting it happen?”

His questions sounded like things children would ask but you answered, nonetheless. 

“It’s complicated,” you replied, flipping to a page in your textbook that showed a diagram of the triangular trade routes. “A lot of people in Europe didn’t really see the human cost. They were more concerned with the goods that were flooding their markets—sugar, tobacco, rum. These were luxury items that became everyday staples, and the average person didn’t really think about where they came from or who made them. But there were also abolitionists—people who fought against the slave trade and the conditions on the plantations. The system wasn’t unchallenged, but it was so entrenched in the economy that change was slow.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, it’s all connected. The economy, the trade, the people—it’s all one big mess.”

A big mess is one way to put it simply. But at least he understood something. 

You smiled slightly, glad to see the gears turning in his head. 

“Exactly. And that’s what you need to understand for the weekly quizzes. It’s not just about memorizing dates and names—it’s about understanding the connections between these different factors and how they shaped the world we live in today.”

He nodded slowly, jotting down a few more notes. “Okay, I think I’m starting to get it. But I’m gonna need more help with the specifics—the names, the dates, all that stuff.”

“We can go over that next,” you offered, flipping to another section of the textbook. “But remember, it’s the big picture that matters. If you can understand how all these pieces fit together, the rest will come easier.”

He started improving. He was still far from a stellar student, but he wasn’t failing anymore. In return, he hadn’t forgotten his end of the deal.

One Friday afternoon, after another study session, Rafe leaned back in his chair, watching you pack your bag. “So, there’s this party tomorrow night.”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes. “And?”

“And you’re coming with me,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You scoffed. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you want Nate to notice you, right?” he said, crossing his arms. “Well, nothing makes a guy pay attention like seeing a girl with another guy. Especially one like me.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “You’re seriously suggesting we…what, pretend to be together?”

The thought almost made you gag. 

Rafe shrugged, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Not exactly. Just, you know, make it look like we’re close. Guys love a little competition. Trust me, it’ll work.”

You hesitated, unsure. The idea of pretending to be close to Rafe, even for show, made your skin crawl. But the idea of finally getting Nate to notice you…that was tempting.

“And what exactly do you get out of this?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Rafe’s grin widened. “The satisfaction of a job well done. And maybe a little fun. You know you need to loosen up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. But this better work.”

“It will,” Rafe said confidently. “Now, what are you planning on wearing?”

You frowned. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Rafe stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Come on, then. We’re going shopping.”

You blinked, surprised. “What? No way. I can’t afford—”

“Relax,” he interrupted, already walking toward the door. “I’ve got it covered.”

You found yourself standing in a high-end boutique, completely out of your element. Rafe was rifling through racks of clothes, pulling out items and tossing them to you with a casual confidence that made you wonder just how often he did this.

“This,” he said, handing you a sleek black dress that was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn.

You looked at it skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s…me.”

“It’s not supposed to be you,” Rafe said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re shorts and tank tops. This is supposed to be the girl Nate notices. Now go try it on.”

Reluctantly, you took the dress and headed to the dressing room. When you stepped out, Rafe’s eyes swept over you, and for the first time, you saw something almost like approval in his gaze.

“That’ll do,” he said, nodding. “But you need heels. And maybe some jewelry.”

This was so fucking weird it gave you chills. 

You stared at him, bewildered. “Since when are you an expert in women’s fashion?”

Rafe smirked. “I have two sisters. You pick things up.”

The next thing you knew, you were trying on shoes, adding accessories, and letting Rafe play stylist until he was satisfied. When you finally looked in the mirror, you hardly recognized yourself. The girl staring back at you was confident, poised, and yes, attractive. It was a version of yourself you’d never seen before.

“See?” Rafe said, appearing behind you in the mirror. “Told you I’d make this work.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“You know what I meant.”

The party was in full swing when you arrived with Rafe. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the air filled with the buzz of chatter and laughter. You felt so nervous you felt like throwing up, clutching the small purse you’d brought with you like it was a lifeline. You could feel eyes on you, who were undoubtedly curious about the new girl in Rafe’s orbit.

Rafe, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, immediately falling into his element, greeting people with confidence and casual charm. He guided you through the crowd with a hand on the small of your back, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “You look good, okay? All you have to do is enjoy yourself.”

You must’ve hit your head. Rafe Cameron was complimenting you. 

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his advice. You spotted Ava and Harper across the room, waving you over, but he stopped you before you could head their way. 

“Not yet,” he said, nodding toward the bar where Nate was standing with a group of friends. “Go talk to him.”

“Rafe—“

“Don’t whine.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “What do I even say?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rafe replied smoothly. “Just be yourself. Well actually, maybe not.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t forget—he needs to see that you’re with me. Let him come to you.”

You nodded, nerves jangling as you made your way toward the bar. Nate glanced up as you approached, and for a split second, his eyes widened in recognition. Does he remember you? Oh wow. You’d spoken to him twice by now, this being your third. 

“Hey,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Mind if I grab a drink?”

“Sure,” Nate said, smiling as he moved aside. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Last minute thing,” you replied, reaching for a cup. “Rafe dragged me along.”

Nate’s smile faltered slightly at the mention of Rafe, his eyes flicking over to where Rafe was leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a casual, almost possessive air.

“Rafe, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “He’s not so bad, once you get to know him.”

Nate looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time. “You look…different tonight. In a good way.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth flooding your cheeks. “Thanks.”

Before the conversation could continue, to your dismay, Rafe appeared at your side, draping an arm around your shoulders, “Everything okay here?”

Nate’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Cool,” Rafe said, giving Nate a pointed look. “Come on, let’s dance.”

Without waiting for a response, he led you away, leaving Nate watching after you, a contemplative expression on his face.

“What the hell?” you hissed, trying to pull away from his grip, but he held you firm, guiding you toward the makeshift dance floor.

“Relax,” he said, his voice low and smooth, as he spun you around to face him, “Trust me, it’s working. Did you see the way he was looking at you?”

You glared at him, your irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

“You didn’t have to drag me away like that.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Had to keep him on his toes. Assholes like Archibald need to feel a little competition to make them realize what they could lose.”

“He’s not an asshole.”

“Sure.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your lips as the music shifted to a slower beat, and his hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling you closer. You stiffened, but he kept his grip light, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Relax,” he repeated, his voice softer this time, almost…gentle. “Just go with it. You’re doing great.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanor. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be…well, not a complete asshole. 

“Watch the hands.”

He only dropped them lower.

“Or what?”

Your pulse quickened as Rafe's hands settled lower on your back, grazing the curve of your hips. His smirk was infuriating, but there was something beneath it—a challenge, a spark that dared you to react.

“Or I’ll step on your foot,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, as if he found your threat amusing. “You’d really ruin those expensive heels I bought you?”

You glanced down at the sleek stilettos, a reluctant grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You deserve it.”

“I probably do,” Rafe admitted, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His gaze locked onto yours again, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room faded away. 

The music, the people, even Nate—everything melted into the background until it was just the two of you. It felt weird. The way he looked at you was unsettling, like he was peeling back the layers you’d so carefully put up, seeing parts of you that you hadn’t intended to show him—or anyone.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to his proximity, to the warmth of his hands against your skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were here for Nate.

But Rafe wasn’t making it easy. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Ass face is looking.”

His lips were so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his lips. The scent of his cologne, a heady mix of cedar and something uniquely him, enveloped you, making it hard to focus.

"Stop calling him that," you whispered back, attempting to inject some irritation into your tone, but it came out softer than intended.

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Just calling it like I see it," he retorted, his fingers pressing lightly against the small of your back, guiding you even closer.

Well, fuck. 

"Is this really part of the plan?" you managed to ask, your voice barely audible over the music.

He smirked, his eyes never wavering. "Absolutely. Just giving the audience a good show."

"Audience?" You arched an eyebrow, momentarily confused.

He tilted his head subtly in Nate's direction. You followed his gaze to find Archibald staring. It was a look you'd never seen directed at you before.

"See? It's working," Rafe whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear again. He had to be doing that shit on purpose, to get a rise out of you—it all felt too real, too intimate.

"You're enjoying this," you accused.

He grinned, unabashed. "Maybe a little. Aren't you?"

You were about to fire back a sharp retort, something to cut through the tension that had been building between you and Rafe, when you heard someone call your name. You turned your head, your heart still racing from how close Rafe was, only to see Ava and Harper pushing through the crowd toward you.

"Hey! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Ava exclaimed, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe, curiosity sparking in her. You never told them about him.

Harper raised an eyebrow, a sly expression spreading across her face. "And what do we have here? You two look cozy."

You stepped back quickly, putting some space between you and Rafe, feeling suddenly exposed. "Just... dancing," you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rafe, of course, didn’t miss a beat. He slipped his hands into his pockets, the picture of casual confidence. "Yeah, just giving her a little dance lesson. She’s a fast learner."

Ava glanced at you, suspicion plastered across her pretty face, “Uh-huh. Well, you ready to go? We were thinking of hitting up another party across town."

You hesitated, glancing at Rafe, who gave you a small nod, as if to say it was up to you. The moment between the two of you had been so intense, so confusing, that you almost forgot the entire reason you were there. Nate. You were supposed to be getting his attention, not getting caught up in whatever strange thing was happening with Rafe.

But now that your friends were here, the spell was broken. You felt more like yourself again, more grounded. "Yeah, let’s go," you said, finally pulling your eyes away from Rafe, “You’re not coming?”

“Nah. Have fun, I’ll see you on Monday, little pogue.”

As you walked away with Ava and Harper, you could feel his eyes on your back, and it took everything in you not to turn around. You weren’t sure what to make of it, or if you even wanted to. It was like you’d glimpsed a different side of him, one that wasn’t entirely awful. One that was strangely attractive. Maybe his ridiculous plan was working. But whether that was a good thing or not, you weren’t sure.

Sure enough, another study session came around. The old tension between you two had settled into a strange kind of truce. It was more of a mutual agreement to tolerate each other for the sake of passing the course. Plus, despite everything, he was strangely good company when he wasn't being a complete ass.

Tonight was one of those rare moments when he wasn’t trying to get under your skin. The conversation had started out innocent enough—debating historical facts, making fun of the professor’s monotone voice—but then, somehow, it drifted towards relationships. Or more accurately, Nate.

“So, you gonna ask him out or what?” Rafe’s tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp as they flicked over to you.

You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was genuinely interested or just trying to pry into your personal life for another round of teasing.

“Ask who out?”

“Nate. Mr. Perfect.” His smirk was playful, but there was an edge to it.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not asking anyone out.”

“Why not?” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, clearly settling in for this conversation. “He’s obviously into you. You’re into him. What’s the problem?”

You looked away, focusing on the textbook in front of you, but the words blurred as your mind wandered. The truth was, you didn’t know how to answer that. You’d never been good with boys, especially not ones like Nate. Ones that seemed so far out of your league. 

“Just…not my thing,” you mumbled, hoping that would be enough to drop the subject.

But Rafe wasn’t one to let things go. “Not your thing? Or…you’ve never actually done it before?”

The casual tone of his question made your stomach flip. You looked at him sharply, searching his face for any sign that he was joking.

“Done what?”

“Kissed someone.” The words were out of his mouth before you could even process them, and your heart skipped a beat. 

You knew you should deny it, brush it off with a joke, but the way he was looking at you, so intently, made it impossible to lie. Silence stretched between you, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as realization dawned. 

“No way. You’ve never…?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding through you. “It’s not a big deal, okay? Can we drop it?”

But he was looking at you like you’d just told him the earth was flat.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” He sounded incredulous, like he couldn’t believe it was even possible.

“Seriously, shut up,” you snapped, but it only made him smile harder.

He shook his head, still looking at you like you were some kind of anomaly. “How the hell did you get through high school without—”

“Rafe!”

“Okay, okay, m'sorry!” He held up his hands in mock surrender, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you nervous. “But seriously, you’ve never kissed anyone? Not even a peck?”

“No,” you admitted, crossing your arms defensively. “And I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his gaze on you, intense and considering. Finally, he leaned forward, his expression more serious than you’d ever seen it. “Alright then. I’ll teach you.”

Your jaw dropped, and you stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What?”

“I’ll teach you,” he repeated, like it was the most logical thing in the world. “Better to learn from someone who knows what they’re doing, right?”

You blinked, trying to wrap your head around what he was suggesting. “Are you out of your fucking mind? There’s no way I’m letting you—”

“Why not?” He was leaning in closer now, that stupid cocky smirk back on his face. “I promise I won’t bite.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, nerves fluttering in your stomach. This was Rafe Cameron, the guy who had made your life hell for years, and now he was offering to…what? Teach you how to kiss? It was absurd. Ridiculous. And yet, there was something in his eyes, something that almost made you say yes.

“No,” you finally said, shaking your head. “This is insane.”

He shrugged, leaning back again, but you could tell he wasn’t giving up. “Just think about it. No pressure.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was crazy, but the truth was, part of you was curious. Curious about what it would be like. Curious about why he was offering in the first place. But that was a thought for another time. For now, you needed to focus on getting through this study session without letting him distract you any further.

Easier said than done.

You tried to shake off the bizarre turn the conversation had taken, focusing back on the textbook in front of you, but the words on the page refused to stick. You could feel his stupid blue eyes on you, his presence more distracting than ever.

“Come on, don’t make it weird,” he said after a moment, his tone light but his gaze still fixed on you. “I was just fucking with you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, relieved that he was backing off. “Good. Because that was the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Weird, maybe. But not the worst idea.”

“Rafe,” you warned, but there was no real bite in your voice. He had a way of disarming you, breaking through your defenses in a way that no one else could. It was annoying.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” he said, holding up his hands again. But there was still a playful glint in his eyes, like he was enjoying this far too much.

You tried to focus on the study guide, pointing out a key term that you both needed to memorize, but your mind kept drifting back to what he’d said. The idea of him teaching you how to kiss was ridiculous—completely absurd—but there was a tiny, traitorous part of you that wondered what it would be like.

“You’re thinking about it,” Rafe said suddenly, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

“No, I’m not!” You replied a little too quickly, your cheeks burning. He grinned, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Yes, you are. I can see it on your face.”

You glared at him, hoping to shut him up with a look, but he just laughed, the sound low and teasing. “You know, if you’re curious, there’s no harm in trying it.”

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m not curious, and I’m definitely not going to let you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, closing the distance between you in a way that made your breath catch. He didn’t kiss you, but he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, the intensity of his eyes making your heart race.

“You sure about that?” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a challenge.

You swallowed hard, your mind screaming at you to push him away, but your body refused to move. There was something magnetic about him, something that made it impossible to look away, to even think about anything else.

“I…” you started, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in just a fraction closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Just one lesson,” he whispered, his lips hovering just above yours. “Then we can pretend it never happened.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind, but none of them made sense. All you could think about was how close he was, how badly you wanted to know what it would feel like to close that final distance.

But then, as if a switch flipped in your brain, reality crashed down on you. This was Rafe Cameron. The guy who had tormented you, who was probably doing this just to mess with you. You couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap.

“No,” you said, finally finding your voice and pushing him back gently. “This is crazy.”

He didn’t move at first, his eyes searching yours for a moment longer before he finally leaned back, giving you space to breathe again. “Fair enough,” he said, his tone still light, but there was something in his expression that you couldn’t quite read. “But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you said quickly, needing to put some distance between you and the tension that was still thick in the air. “Let’s just get back to studying.”

He gave you a long look, like he was deciding whether to push the issue, but then he just shrugged and turned back to his notes. 

“Whatever you say.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the study guide in front of you, but your mind was still reeling. You couldn’t believe what had just happened, couldn’t believe that you had actually considered letting Rafe teach you how to kiss. It was insane. 

Completely and utterly insane.

The rest of the study session passed in a blur, the usual banter between you and Rafe feeling a bit more strained, a bit more loaded than before. You were hyper-aware of every move he made, every glance he threw your way, but thankfully, he seemed to have dropped the subject for now.

But as you packed up your things to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you. You couldn’t tell if it was for better or worse, but one thing was certain—you were never going to look at Rafe Cameron the same way again.

The following days were a strange dance of avoidance and unspoken tension. Lots of it. You and Rafe still studied together, but there was an unspoken agreement not to mention what had happened. It was as if you were both trying to pretend that nothing had changed, even though you both knew it had.

It didn’t help that every time you were around him, you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment—the way he’d leaned in, the way his breath had felt against your lips. How soft they looked. It was infuriating, the way your mind kept circling back to it, refusing to let it go. You were better than this. 

“Hey,” he greeted, sitting down next to you without his usual swagger. “You okay?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated before answering. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged, looking out at the entrance of the classroom for a moment before turning back to you. “I don’t know. You’ve just been kind of…quiet lately.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he seemed genuine. “Just had a lot on my mind.”

Rafe nodded, as if he understood, and for a moment, the two of you sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence. It was strange, this version of him—so different from the one who had taunted you about kissing just days ago.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Y’know, I wasn’t trying to mess with you the other day. I mean, I was, but not…not in a bad way.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure where he was going with this. “Rafe, I know you like to mess with people. It’s kind of your thing.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I guess I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to make fun of you or anything. I just thought…you deserved better.”

That caught you completely off guard. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, looking uncharacteristically serious. “I mean, you deserve to experience that stuff with someone who actually gives a shit about you. Not with some random guy at a party or something. I guess I didn’t like the idea of you feeling…left out.”

Was he…implying that you two were friends now? That he cared?

You stared at him, not sure what to say. This was a side of Rafe you’d never seen before—vulnerable, even a little protective. It was jarring, but not in a bad way.

“Thanks,” you said softly, not quite sure how to respond. “That's weirdly nice of you to say.”

He smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t have that usual hint of arrogance. “Don’t get used to it,” he teased lightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Just then, the rest of your classmates showed up, breaking the moment. 

Rafe stood up, his usual confident demeanor slipping back into place as he greeted his friends. But as you watched him joke around with the others, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just seen a glimpse of the real Rafe—someone who cared, even if he didn’t always show it.

And you found yourself liking this version of him. 

A lot.

More than you should.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Idolification.

Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”

Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.

Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”

At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”

She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”

“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”

“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”

Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”

“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”

Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”

Fuck.

If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.

“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”

You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”

“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”

Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”

His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  

“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”

~

“Room for one more?”

She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.

The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.

“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”

“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”

“He’s mentioned me?”

“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”

“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”

Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”

You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”

This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

~

It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.

It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.

It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.

“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”

A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”

“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”

“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”

“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”

“That’s not—”

“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.

He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.

When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.

~

“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”

You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”

Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”

This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”

You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”

She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”

You swallowed dryly. “Never.”

“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”

“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”

“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”

She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”

And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.

Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.

The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.

“Yuuji?”

~

The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.

It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.

He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”

He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”

A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.

And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”

You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”

You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—

No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”

“Yuuji, this isn’t—”

He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”

A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.

With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.

“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.

You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—

 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”

A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”

You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.

He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.

It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.

“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”

His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”

His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.

Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.

A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.

[nascenterror]

Things I'm Grateful For:

...the courage to stand in front of things that once made me anxious and cringe in fear.

...the thoughtfulness to know i need to work on my physical health.

...that i have a roof over my head, healthy food to eat, and a clean place to shower.

[infamous-if]

Hello! I have managed to port every piece of bonus content on patreon dating back to August 2023—my first month on patreon! I did my best to organize it by month despite some content being combined and released early for band tier.

I haven't read some of these in over a year or so and the early pieces may be outdated or just badly written in terms of characterization lol forgive me. I've tested every piece as I was porting it but I may have missed errors or so. (It grew very tedious and tiring halfway through so forgive me if I wasn't very thorough…I was just trying to get it ported as soon as possible).

The valentine's specials are private until I organize them and fix the links on the actual public post. I'll be doing that tomorrow once I have the chance.

Again, I apologize for the delay on the next special. This took me a lot longer than I expected and I have a headache from it lmskjsdjds :/// I will try to get back in the swing of things!

An end of an era but hosting a website for so many years is an amazing and incredibly kind thing to do. Very grateful to dashingdon :,)

PLAY EVERYTHING HERE

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[katiascraft]

"This is how you fall in love" | OP81

parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.

Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.

Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.

Word count: +1,2k

Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.

Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.

Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.

You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.

He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.

Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.

In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.

He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.

He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.

He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.

“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.

“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.

“Me too my love” you said softly.

You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.

You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.

Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.

Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.

Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.

Maybe this is how you fall in love.

How you two fell in love every single day.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[malleleothreesome]

Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

[lvmazzy]

- playing dangerous !

summary: Heesung doesn't hide his favoritism for his girl in the kpop industry.

pairing: manager!heeseung x idol!fem!reader

word/character count: 6K / 6297

warnings: grammatical errors, profanity, implied sex, obscenity, kpop, gg kpop, favoritism, affair between co-workers...

gender: little smut, fluff(?), funny(??)

author's notes: hihi my luvs!! I'm finally back. it's my first time writing something about enhypen and a little more raunchy, sooo I hope you like it! don't forget to give your feedback which is very important. xoxo 💋

It was a fact that Heeseung had a soft spot for you. From the day he saw you practicing in the rehearsal room, he certainly saw potential, charisma and beauty.

Your kpop group wasn't as acclaimed and recognized yet and that frustrated you. But things changed when you met Heeseung, he was a nice, young and extremely attractive guy - sinful thoughts ran through your mind making you dizzy - you saw how excited he was to be your new manager and help elevate your career.

Your dream was to be famous, the fame, the lust, the spotlight was your dream and Heeseung sure promised you all of that.

Things started to look better since you entered into an agreement with Heeseung, he was a great agent and manager. Album sales were up, views were growing, listeners on spotify were increasing and all of this was thanks to your manager Heeseung.

You were eternally grateful and happy for all your manager's work, he even increased your distribution lines on songs, invested in sponsors, in other words, you were the center of everything!

It was late at night when you had just come off another successful stage. You looked radiant, with rosy cheeks, hair on your forehead from dancing, and a breathtakingly flawless outfit.

The ecstasy was visible on your face as you entered your dressing room. Looking at yourself in the mirror, admiring every detail, so wrapped up in the countless compliments, you suddenly felt a pair of hands on your waist which made you jump in fright.

"Heeseung! You scared me!" you say with wide eyes and a hand on your heart.

"sorry my little kitten, I just came here to congratulate you." your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname making you blush. Then immediately he pulled you closer to himself. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"you were amazing tonight, I'm so proud of you..." Heeseung whispered as he distributed several kisses with light bites on your neck, making you shiver with every touch.

"Heeseung... we.... can't....." it was almost a whisper. You tried to form coherent sentences, but Heeseung's kisses became hotter and hotter.

"why not? We've done it several times right here, remember?" he let out a nasal laugh after saying that, looking at your face with that seductive smile you couldn't resist. "or do you prefer my house?"

you paused for a moment and thought... your chest rising and falling because of the accelerated breathing. That's when you cracked a mischievous smile that made Heeseung smile too. "I get it, you really are a nasty girl." after saying that, he pulls you out of the dressing room and takes you to his car.

The ride was quiet and calm, you realized how attractive Heesung was tonight. The way he held the steering wheel and how his hair was slightly messy made you bite your lip trying to contain it.

Heeseung quickly noticed your behavior and brought one of his hands to your thigh and began to caress it slowly. He was teasing you, you knew him too well to know that kind of game.

When you finally arrived at his house, you quickly kissed him with all your strength and desperation.

He pinned you to the door and sunk his lips into yours, making your tongues roll together in sync. You gave a soft moan, which made Heeseung go crazy.

"i didn't know you were that needy." Heeseung said with a malicious smile on his face and with one of his eyebrows raised.

"shut up." You pursed your lips again and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Heesung held you and led you to your room, you had come here several times before and never seemed to change.

He laid you down on the bed gently with your lips still attached and pulled away for a moment, making you moan from the lack of contact.

"patience princess." he pulled off his shirt revealing the toned body you adored. It was quite a sight.

Moving closer to you, Heeseung began to distribute kisses on your thighs making you dizzy with pleasure.

"what? Cat got your tongue? Tell me what you want." a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"you..."

"hmm I don't think you've convinced me." he says pulling away leaving you frustrated and looking at your face that was almost closed.

"I want you, please. I want to feel you." you say under your breath making him smile in response.

He kissed you once again hovering above and lowered his lips on your neck leaving several bites. At this point you could only moan softly and try to keep your eyes open.

"you know how much I love this skirt on you, it's a shame we don't need it right now." with one action, he takes off your skirt throwing it in any corner on the floor.

You pull him into a desperate, passionate kiss, as his hands roam all over your body, squeezing and caressing.

He runs his thumb across your lips and caresses them, as you look up at him with the brightest eyes.

"you're a mess, princess." he says laughing as he stands mesmerized by you. In response, you gently kiss his thumb.

Suddenly, you both hear a low purr coming from the floor snapping you out of your trance.

"what...." you say confused.

It's then that a white ball of fur climbs onto the bed disturbing your moment.

"ownn it's just Yoon. I miss you my love." you say stroking and kissing Heeseung's cat several times, making him snort.

"okay okay, now we're at an important moment you know?" he retorts taking the cat off his lap and putting it away from you on the bed.

"i don't think she wants to see what her parents are about to do."

"what if she decides to watch?" he says to you in a teasing way while taking off your shirt.

"that would be pretty weird." you said a little out of breath because of Heeseung.

"I think she'll like that view." he says not stopping to look at you, specifically, your body that was only in your bra.

In response, you rolled your eyes and hit his shoulder playfully making him laugh.

"sorry, but you're always so hot, my star."

"oh my, what a corny nickname!" you say groaning in embarrassment making you both laugh.

"deep down you found it exciting."

"Heeseung if you don't shut your mouth I swear I'm going home."

"okay, I'm done!" he said in yielding, waving his hands in the air. "where were we? ah, yeah, the part where I take off all your clothes. Shit, you're so beautiful!"

"Heeseung focus!"

"right, sorry."

original by @lvmazzy , 2023