#I'm not planning on doing anything with this aside from having a laugh and then returning sprites back to normal it's just too funny still | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whore-ibly-hot · 3 months ago

Text

"What it takes to lead."

Yan!Dictator x Fem!Reader x Yan!Next in line.

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Non-con, mentions of violence, fascism, groping, p-in-v sex, sexism, questionable father son Dynamics, power dynamics, leather play.

AN: I recently began reading @yanderedrabbles works and they broke my brain, so when I saw they had a Yan!Dictator planned it inspired me. This is... meh.

You don't know how this could've happened.

It was supposed to be a routine visit. Your father was a well off oil baron, owning one of the largest refineries in America, not counting his export deals. You had gone with him, unaware of the tense political state of Dela Marina.

Admittedly, the American government was somewhat aware of the rulers less than conventional methods of maintaining control. Camps, strict surveillance, and a cutting off of outside media aside from those approved by the Dela Marina Media council, but for America's political interests, and more importantly your father's bank, the warnings signs went ignored.

It started off as just a nice, tropical vacation. White sand beaches, exotic meals, and a blaring tan from the sun. However, something soon seemed a bit off. The leader, El presidente Ramon Ballesteros, gave you chills. He said nice things, talked about his vision for Dela Marina, how he would shape the land and people to 'true culture'. It would be inspiring, if his faze didn't feel so dark, so imposing. It was as if hew was analyzing everything, every move you made.

Still, Féliz calmed you a bit. The son of Ramon, as close to a prince as you could be in this 'democracy'. He was nothing like his father. Quiet, more subdued, though just as analytical. His father takes thing in while he speaks, but Feliz stays behind, letting his father do the talking.

"Hello there, señorita." Feliz had approached you the night of the welcome dinner, a lavish affair with Del Marina's finest chefs on hand. "My father wanted me to welcome you personally, we are both youths, uh, leader of the future, he says. Your countries, and mine." He seems awkward repeating his father propaganda. Despite this, you like him. He's funny, he tells you about growing up in Del Marina, about the culture, the people. "You have to go to the beach with me, there all white sand. Is beautiful, and if we go early enough, we can see the starfish beach." You took him up on all his outings, you could tell he was deeply alone, at his core.

"Feliz?" You had asked once. "Do you... get out much? I mean, I'm one for decadence. Whole point of having a daddy with money is spending it." You laugh. You were privileged. You knew it, you embraced it. You had never had to worry about anything, never had a reason to loop beyond at the suffering of the others. Why focus on all that?

"No, I don't. It's tense, in Del Marina. Their are Terroristas, rebels. Mis padre would rather me be here, where its safer. Besides, partying isn't for me. I have to learn how to lead, to study and to help people. My people." He'd explained, fiddling with the white pressed uniform he so often wore, a less refined and adorned version of his fathers. "Loosen up." You had suggested. "We can have some fun, we're friends now, yeah? Let's go party!" Feliz had never wanted really to go to a club, to spend time with the privileged people while he knew others, those being exploitated, were suffering. But you were so, so pretty, and the only friend he felt he had. You made him feel special, not for bring the son of the president, or 'Del Marina's future'. You made him feel special for being him. He agreed.

He was terrified when you both snuck out, naturally it didn't take long for the guards to drag the both of you back to the palace, you kicked and yelled while he went quietly. He feared his father would turn his anger to you, he was ready to take the brunt of the anger. However, his father seems amused. You laugh along with his dad, not sensing the chilling undertone.

"Your son, and the american girl, Presidente." A guard said, bowing, hand over hid chest. "They were seen heading to a club on the north side."

"Ah, let them go." Ramon grins, waving a hand as the guards back off. "Kids, ey? Even at twenty, they still can't help.but wander off. It's good, independence. To think, to have fun. Kids behave this way, it's expected. Dismissed." The guards leave, and he steps down to you. "I ought to thank you, you know? No one has ever gotten my son quite so out of his shell. Feliz, I've tried to inspire that boldness in you, I suppose I didn't realize it would take such a lovely young lady to do so." Felix goes red, looking down. He knows this is a facade, and still can sense the danger in the room. Ramon takes your hand, kissing it. "But i should have known, he is his fathers son, and we are both red blooded men, yes?" He chuckles to himself.

"I didn't mean any harm, I just wanted to have some fun. And I thought maybe Feliz needed a friend." You mumble, heels scuffing the floor awkwardly. Still; you aren't sorry. "He needed a break. To live."

The president goes silent, but then nods, laughing with his arms going. "Of course! Dis boy of mine, always with the working, he wants to be like his papa. It's honorable, but a young man still needs to let loose while he's young. Next time, all I ask is you take an escort. These terroristas planning Del Marina won't care about your intentions, just the message hurting you would send." His gaze grows serious, and you gulps.

"Ah, y-yeah. I'll keep that in mind." You look down, stepping away. "I'll probably go to bed, I've had enough fun. Goodnight, Presidente." He smiles, watching as you turn to Feliz. The tan boy looks through his dark locks, trying to hide his obvious flush from his father. You didn't need any reason to be made to stay here, and he knew his dad. "Night, Feliz." You call, and he just sends you a weak wave. Worried you upset him, you scurry off. The moment you slip out of the heavy wooden door of the presidente's office; his happy and jovial expression falls, mask melting away.

"Why this sudden change in you?" "Papa, please, I didn't mean anything by it, it was all my idea-" His fathers raised hand silences him. "Enough, Feliz." Ramon sighs, strolling to his desk cabinets, hand running across the mahogany surface as he opens up a velvet box, pulling out a bottle of scotch. "I didn’t lie to you, I'm not angry. I wish that your judgment had not been blinded and you had simply brought a guard-" He pours to crystal glasses, the brown liquid filling the clear, ornate glasses. "But I'm proud none the less. You made a choice, a bold one. Hm, we drink, you're becoming a man!"

Feliz winces at the glass sliding towards him, but knows his father won't take no gore an answer. "It was nothing, Papa. Just a quick outing, she was bored and I went with."

"Oh-ho, it was more than that, my son. It's okay, I'm older, but I'm still a man. I'm not immune to the charms of a woman. She is beautiful, no?" Ramon takes a sip, relishing in the burn of the drink. "This is the real infatuation you've had, isn't it."

"Its not an infatuation, she's a friend and-" His father glares, he knows he hates liars. "I... I like her, of course. But its nothing serious, no more than a crush."

"Even a crush is serious for a stoic, quiet man like you, Feliz." His dad leans forward to lift his chin up a bit. "I've never seen you take to anyone like this, that's what makes it serious." Harshly patting the young man's cheek, he leans back. "Her Father is a great ally, a man willing to buy the vast amount of oil our country has. It would be incredible for Del Marina to seal a deal like this, to lock something down. And Feliz, I know you want what's best for the country." Once again, hisbfather cold demeanor returns, shifting from joviality frighteningly fast. "So, I tell you to pursue it."

"I don't even know if she feels that way about me, a-and I couldn't ask her to stay in some foreign country!" Feliz is spouting every excuse he can think of, to push you away, push his fathers implications away, to keep you safe from the truth. The dangers of Del Marina, of his father government and more importantly, his father. Another withering look makes him nod. "I'll... ask her out. See if she'll accompany me to the press gala." He mumbles obediently.

"Good boy. Go, get some rest." He pats his sons shoulder. "And remember, Feliz,-" He chides, turning away and taking another sip, back to the future of Del Marina. "Ballesteros's take what they want."

Lying in bed, the grandness of his room feels imposing. As cold and lonely as ever, his own oil portrait staring back at him. He never liked the commissioned piece. It felt... fake. An image of his, posed by a map, in his uniform, looking like his father. Just. Like. His. Father. The sound of a creaking door makes him sit-up, and he only feels the discomfort in his stomach grow as he sees your form slipping into his room, clad only in pajamas that cling to you. Despite the terror he feels, the pulse of arousal in his gut is prominent too. He grabs his silk pillow, covering up a growing problem as he sees you approach.

"You can't be here, w-what are you doing?" He asks.

You just shake your head and laugh. "Please, it's fine. Your dad made it clear he likes me, and I wanted to check on you." You plop down unceremoniously, groaning at the feeling of the luxurious sheets on your body. "Shit, that's good."

"Go, you have to go-"

"Are you mad at me?" You ask, pouting as you turn to face him. Hes cute when he's nervous, brows furrowed and dark hair tousled. His hands grip the sheets. "Cmon. I'm sorry if I upset you, I just wanted to have fun!"

"I know, I know." he shakes his head. "I'm not mad at you, I was excited. It's just that you don't know my papa like I do. He always has a plan, a motive, for anything he does. And i don't want you getting caught up in something you shouldn't."

You frown, but ignore his warning. "Nah, he likes me, it's fine. I'm not scared of some politician, no different than my dad-"

"No." Hes dead serious, seeing the soft, sweet man so serious makes you pale, gulping. "You have no idea what he's like. What our country is really like, I-" He puts a fist over his mouth, rubbing at his face. "Please. Just try to keep your head down. Okay?" Nodding, and cold at the severity of his sudden change, you scoot closer.

"Okay, okay." You put your hands up in mock defense. "I'm sorry, I'll keep in line. I just wanted to check on you." I pat his arm. "Didn't want you mad at me."

He relaxes at the feeling of your slumped, warm weight against him. "No, I couldn't be mad at you, amiga. You're one of the... few friends I have, even in the short time I've known you. I just don't want you hurt."

"I like you too, Feliz." You murmur, and the simple admission is enough to make his heart palpitate. He grips the sheets, before slowly putting a hand on you. "Go, you should get back to your room. I'll see you tomorrow."

Watching as you pad across the floor, he coughs. "And... there's a gala, coming up. A media event for father and yours to be shown getting along. If you... if you wanted to go. With me."

"Who else would I go with, Feliz?" You tease, making him just look down, nodding.

So how did it end up as this? You're stuck up in the room given to you at the Presidente's estate, it had once felt so grand but now felt suffocatingly small. A deal had been struck, something went wrong when you had been seen at the gala. Media went wild, rumors flew about the pretty new girl spotted alongside Dela Marina's darling prince. And Ramon approached your father with an offer. You don't know what it was, or why he'd agree to it, but it culminated in your father jetting off; leaving you behind.

"Please, please- I don't understand-" You whine, hands shaking and skin slicked with nervous sweat as you see guards sealing up the doors of your room. Trapped. "Presidente Ramon-"

"Shh." His gloved hand pressing a finger to your lips silences you, eyes wide. It is now you are beginning to see the side of the Dela Marina presidente you had heard of. Calculated, cruel. "There's no need to panic, little American darling. It's not like your losing any luxuries you had back home, perhaps you are even gaining some. Both me and your father think this is best, a joining of powers. Now, he was hesitant." Ramon rolls his eyes. "But you are a fierce little thing, and I told him you'd get a bit more discipline here. I doubt he was strict enough in your upbringing. Not that a spark isn't amusing, señora. It's charming at times." His smirk is that of a lion looking over it pray.

"You see," he intertwines his fingers together as he sits down at the foot of the four poster bed beside you. "My son. He loves you. He'll say it's a crush, but a father knows his son. He's always been good, my boy. Never asked for things, never taken what he wanted like he should. This is a push in the right direction for him. To make him make a move. I expect you like him as much?"

"I mean, I don't, I don't know-" You're stammering, hands shaking. It's all crashing down, overwhelming. The feeling of absolution in his town, of finality, is bone chilling. "He's my friend?"

"Ah, well, that's only his own fault. He has trouble taking initiative, and I dont fault you either." He sits up straighter. "Im a traditionalist, like my father and his before him. Of course it should be the man who propositions the young lady, but my son-" he waves his hand. "Has this idea in his head, silly notions about the changing of culture. I am fine with most of it, but a wife and children? Being the man for your family, for your country. No, that I will never budge on."

"Papa!" The heavy door slams open, with a frantic Feliz standing in the now open doorway. "What are you doing, why is she here-"

"Ah, my boy. Come, sit. Me and your friends father had been talking, she'll be staying for a bit. Good news, ay? Now, I'm sure you've got something you'd like to say-"

"Y-you can't do this, she doesn't belong here, papa-" Feliz juts his hands forward to help you, to try and think of a way out of this. "Are you okay? Did your father leave-"

"Feliz!" Ramon's voice booms across the room, causing both of you to still like deers caught in headlights. "Calm yourself, I'm helping you along in making a decision you are unable to make yourself. You will be grateful, and apologize."

It's shocking to see how Feliz shrinks, to see how his dad treats him behind closed doors. "I- I'm sorry, Papa. I just didn't want her in distress. I didn't want her feeling confused." He mutters, head down like an obedient hound.

"Of course, and that's admirable, but you should put more trust in your father to know I’ve already explained the situation. Now come here, come." He waves his son over, and the pair stand near you on the bed. "Tell her. Of your feelings, take charge."

"I-" Theyoung man is trying not to hyperventilate, hands gripping his white uniform short like he's staving off a seizure. "I like you, you know this. I feel emotions for you that no one else had made me feel, and-and if you'd have me-" he sounds like he's ready from a script, eyes clenched shut.

"Not if. Be assertive." His father hisses. "Tell her she is to be yours. Tell her your feelings are strong enough you won't be denied. Tell her what you can provide given your status." He's glaring like a schoolteacher scolding a naughty pupil, and the shaking boy nods.

"When- when you decide I am right for you, I'll provide what you need. Our country has vast resources, and wealth for you to enjoy. You would want for nothing." Its monotone, like an audio book, like it's pre-recorded. Seeing his fathers fist clench, he moves to kiss you lightly. As he approaches, he whispers a soft "I'm so sorry-" as he places warm, slightly chapped lips onto yours. Shocked, but to afraid to not play along, you kiss back. It's soft, it would be intoxicating if the sense of impending doom didn't weigh so heavy, being moved like dolls in a dollhouse.

"That was nice, Feliz." You can think only to reassure him, hand landlord on his neatly pressed shirt. "Very nice, I like you too, of course." You tuck his hair behind his ear, seeing the way his lip wobbles, his eyes water. He's so guilty, he never should have spoken to you.

"Wonderful." His body is jolted by a slap to the back, his father laughing. "Good man, now, shall I leave you kids alone? I'm sure you'll want time to yourself. Son, you understand what a man must take from his woman, yes?"

"I... our relationship is new, papa. I can't. I-I-" He pauses. "I won't, I won't do it. I can't, I wouldn't know how and I dont want her to do anything she doesn't want."

Ramon scoffs. "She's agreed to be yours son, go on! Of course she wants it, don't you, pequeña?" Ramon gestures to where you're laid, looking at you expectantly. When you say nothing, he raises his brows in suprise. "Unbelievable. I set the two of you up for every opportunity and you can't do that. Son," he grabs Feliz's shoulder roughly. "We are men. Conquerors, rulers. We take what we want, lions from lambs. How can you expect to lead, to protect this great country from terroristas if you cannot ask your woman for what all hot-blooded men desire!" He's growing angry, truly mad, his usual cool annoyance heating up. "You have to learn if you don't take what you want, someone else will. Your land, your power, your woman."

"Papa, please-"

"No. I have to do everything my self with you. I'm going to show you what happens if you don't take the first step." He changes his eyes to you, your cowering form. "Strip, girl." You're eyes widen, head shaking on instincts.

"What, no, no, I'm not going to-"

"The choice is not yours. I've got guards outside, you're in my country. In my home." He comes to the bedside, leaning down so he's practically nose to nose with you, dark brown eyes feel like a pool you're drowning in, swallowed whole. "The only thing you are in control of now is how gentle I am, sí?" You're still frozen, just shaking your head over and over again, resulting in him sighing. It's a minor annoyance to him, like he's not violating you but rather just dealing with a disobedient pup. "Everything by myself." He repeats.

Gloved hands brush across your collarbone, cool leather causing a trail of goosebumps to blossom on your skin. He jerks his hand back, tearing the buttons on your dress. The front pops open, buttons clattering to the floor with a 'tink-tink'. Feliz winces, hand to his mouth in horror.

"Papa, please, please don't..." He begs, voice as soft and light as he can make it. He was a good father when he was little. Doting, he'd comfort him when he cried, take him on little outings. A part of Feliz hopes that softer voice would remind him of the boy he once was, that he'd give in.

"This is what happens son, you don't take initiative, someone gets there before you." Ramon feels you squirm a bit and tightens the grip he's got on your left arm, gaze never leaving his son as he warns you. "Don't squirm, girl." He warns. "You're a lady, not some groveling worm, hold still, I'll get to you in a moment."

"Can I talk her through it?" Feliz asks. "Let me be by her side, or at least... I don't know!" He begs. Ramon tilts his head, then nods. "Alright. Second best option is getting in where you can. Rising through the ranks, get over here." Feliz scrambles to get to your other side. "Now, let's get this off." Ramon grabs the blade he keeps on his waistband at his side, pressing the cold still to your pretty skin while he cuts the lace straps of your bra off. "Aw, beautiful. Shame to hide such beautiful breasts away, without a man to reveal them." He coos. Rough lips place a kiss to your left nipple, making you whimper. "Just beautiful. Feliz, take it in. Your first woman."

Feliz is staring, both horrified at his biological reaction and awe struck at the sight of your newly revealed breasts. He'd stared many a time when they were covered, to see them exposed in front of him was a new feelings entirely. He reaches out, letting a breath he didn't know he was holding escape as he gropes your left tit.

"There we go, it's good, yeah? A woman's body is a miraculous thing." Groaning, he leans down and kisses up and down softly the nape of your neck. "Don't stay quiet, let me hear those pretty noises, girl." He whispers

"I don't, this can't happen, presidente. I don't want this." You whisper, and he just chuckles, looking up at you from his place on your chest. "Ah, amor, but you will."

A sudden pressure on your ass makes you squeak, his hands groping the meat of your ass firmly, sure to leave bruises. "Don't speak back to me, ey? Lay back and enjoy what a man in power can offer you, girl. And call me Ramone." He grins. "There's no need for formalities when I'm going to have you speared on my cock."

Feliz grimaces at the way your eyes water, so afraid. But not only can he not help, he's so horrendously turned on. Your heaving breasts, wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You're a picture of eroticism, and the hardening in his shorts is a clear sign that the part of him desiring you is winning him over. He watches his father roll you over, gloved fist kneading the cheeks of your ass.

"Just a short reminder to not talk back. To behave."

A sharp pain makes you yelps, a harsh slap to your ass. Immediately after delivering the blow, his gloved hand massages to red mark. "See? Even when in the throws of sex, you should exercise your control, my boy. Let her know you are in charge, regardless of their pleasure she is providing you." He scoots aside, petting half while looking at Feliz. Feliz swallows harshly, but hovers his hand lightly over your plump rear. Another squeak, as he delivers a softer, albeit still harsh spank. "Make sure she's okay now. A firm hand, not a cruel one."

Feliz shaky hand gently rubs the mark, mimicking Ramon's actions, and he leans down to whisper in your ear. "Not too much, right? It wasn't too much? You-" He's trying to justify himself, why he feels so aroused by all this, by you. "You liked it, right?"

You're shocked, but as you shake your head no, another slap. The gentle kneading afterwards does little to relieve the pain. You know not to protest. "It's fine." You whisper.

Feliz wouldn't normally believe you, he'd hear the pain in your voice, the tremble. He'd want to sooth you, but he was so unbelievably needy in those moment, for for relief and to believe you were happy with him. That this was a good, intimate moment between the two of you, without his fathers direction, without force. Thid was the moment he trusted himself, his virginity to you. He just smiles weakly at your statement that it's okay.

"So pretty, let's get these off of you, huh?" You can feel the gloves leather, once cool, now hot against your skin he snaps your pantie strap against your hip, making you flinch. "Hm, I bet you've had plenty of men. A rich privileged American girl, spending your papas money. Does he know, know that your a slut, or is he too busy?"

"I've only been with a few guys..." you weakly protest. "From... club and stuff."

"A few too many. If any proper man had had you, he'd be sure you only ever took his cock, allowed him inside of you." Once again grabbing that knife, he slides the blade across the strap he had previously snapped, the fabric tearing and loosening. "Beautiful..." he runs his finger over the lips of your pussy, puffy from arousal. He lets you feel each wrinkle in the leather of his gloves, before spreading your lips apart, strings of slick snapping.

Feliz feels his mouth is watering, your mouth watering, your most bare part vulnerable for him. He can't stop himself from cupping your mound, letting his fingers curiously trail up to your clit. You let out a reluctant moan at the feeling; and he just leans down to kiss your cheek. "You're so pretty. A-and you're doing so well..." Making sure his father is distracted, he whispers in your ear. "Im sorry our first time together had to be like this, but... its still nice, right?" He's still in denial about the horrors of his actions. "You still get to feel good, and you get to be with me. This... this is what we both want..."

"Feliz..." You whimper, but he just shakes his head. "No, don't tell me it's not. I can't handle that right now." Despite his good nature, Feliz has always been given what he wanted. He cant help but feel selfish, ask you not to hurt his feelings or overwhelm him while your the one being violated. He'll reflect on that later. His lips, slightly chapped, press hot against yours, once, then twice. "That was my first." He admits. "Wouldn't want it to be anyone but you."

Suddenly, his father grabs his collar, pulling me back a bit. "Come now, boy. Clear out, I need my time now."

Feliz pales. "Papa?" He's visibly confused. "You said... take what I want, be a leader, not a follower. I thought you'd be giving her to me, that I'd be having sex with her! You said a man should let his woman be only with him from the moment he decides he wants her?" His tan hands are shaking, flushed face a mix of embarrassment and frustration. All he wants is to tenderly relieve the pressure in his shorts with you, and as he sees his father let out a 'tsk', his frustration increases.

"But that doesn't apply, does it? She's had other men before, and she's not a true, proper woman of our country. If nothing else, it's better I be sure she's even worth it. It's not simply sex, this could be the woman you choose to lead alongside, boy." His father cold glare makes him shrink back, sliding off the bed.

"But, isn't it a test of my leadership that I take her first-"

"You wouldn't question your papa?" Ramom hisses, and Feliz wilts. He can't make eye contact with you as he leaves the room. When it's him violating you, he can at least pretend you feel safer because it's him, that you like it. But its his father, a ruthless dictator, and stranger. As he leaves and makes his way down the hall, he's determined to be ready to cater for you when it's all over.

Back in the room, you remain a trembling mess, watching the much older man removing his belt with a practiced speed. "Please don't, sir-" You ask. "I don't feel comfortable, I don't-"

"You should feel grateful." He reminds. "To have both the attentions of a leader and his son. I understand it might be frightening, you know the kind of man I am. How i stay in power, I've tricked your father but I've no doubt that boy of mine has admitted some things to you." As he removes white dress pants and dispenses of his gloves on the nightstand, he grips your chin with now-bare fingers. Calloused; from years of clawing his way to the top. "You aren't stupid. That's one of the things I admire about you, girl. Smart, if a bit spoiled. That's fine, respect can be taught, a place can be taught. Natural intelligence can be harder to develop."

"Why me?" You blurt. "Why are you forcing me into this, you could have any woman, I'm not even close to your age, a-and Feliz, Feliz likes me!" You hope to garner even a bit of sympathy for his son in this moment, hoping it would prevent him going all the way.

"He does not 'like' you, he loves you." He says matter-of-factly. "Which is precisely why this has to be done. You will be in the public eye, the first lady of this great country. I need to know you can be submissive, can provide as a wife should. But... I also need to know you can be taught, can take orders. My boy, he is-" Ramon shakes his head. "Meeker than I would like, despite my efforts. I need to know even with his less than firm hand that he can ensure you behave. And ones true colors come out in the bedroom, I find."

He pounces, baring down rather suddenly, grip on your jaw near crushing as his free hand strokes once, then twice over his cock; brown with a curve to it and a purple tip. "But, I am also not a liar. I admit the idea of having a beautiful young woman around my manhood isn't-" he nips are your ear, breath hot yet making you feel frigid with fear. "Intoxicating."

"It's been a long time." You whisper, and he feigns a caring pout. "Ah, I'm sure. Don't worry, I won't let you hurt. But remember, this is about taking orders. First, take me in your hands. I doubt you're inexperienced in this, so don't feign naivety." His voice is low, threatening. Despite the churning feeling of sickness, you take his length in one shaky hand, wrapping round the erect shaft, and refusing to meet his gaze.

"Good. Go on now, kiss it, just the tip. I want to see you practice restraint, just because you don't want this doesn't mean I will rush." He warns. Your plush lips gently press the bulbous tip, you can feel a shiver run up him as you do. Testing the waters and desperate to get it over with, you slowly slip in the tip, tongue pressing against the vein under his cock. He doesn't thrust, not allowing you to take hin in fully; but the clenching in his jaw shows the effect it's having.

"Wonderful..." He groans. "Very good, take a little more, yes? I know you can, shit-" He rolls his hips, the salty flavor of skin filling your mouth further as you take him in deeper. "Good, suckle. Suck the cock of El presidente-" He's beginning to get a bit lost in his praise of himself more than you.

Sloppy, wet sounds fill your ears, eyes screwed shut as a few tears slip from them. Ramon grunts, whispering another moan of pleasure before noticing and sighing. He wipes some tears with his thumb, licking up the salty water to your shock. "Don't cry, cariño. I'm not being cruel. I'm being rather gentle with your pretty mouth; no damaged goods here." He reminds. You can hear his grunts increasing in frequency, his cock twitching in your mouth, when he roughly threads his fingers in your hair and yanks you off his cock.

"Hands and knees, face away." He demands. "Don't make me wait." Your knees dig into the silk of the bed, assuming an easily mountable position. Once again, you make a final plea. "Please-" Your voice sounds as though it could shatter. "Don't hurt me."

To your suprise, you can feel him freezing behind you, and hear a deep sigh. You scre your eyes tight as you feel him assume position behind you, leaky cock pressing against your folds as his chest, still clad in his white dress shirt, presses against your bare spine. One hand holds himself up, while the other takes your chin from behind, gentler than his initially grip. He places a few small kisses mixed with nibbles against the flushed shell of your ear.

"Being a leader-" he begins, "Is not easy. Being the wife of one, even more so. There is danger, societal expectations, and constant decisions that must be made. But know this, my touch is not something you need to fear, cariño." He's uncharacteristically tender now, and that frightens you more.

He finishes his speech with a kiss to the back of your neck, before sighing as he eases his tip into your wet folds.

"Ah-" You whine, it's thick, but it doesn't fully hurt. He's tender, he kept his promise. "Feel that? The stretch of a true Dela Marinan man?" He asks, working his way in a bit deeper. His balls, heavy, slowly crawl closer to the lips of your cunt as he further enters, groaning.

"Beautiful. Mmph, you don't have the makings of a first lady." He firstly pulls out, before sheathing fully again. "You're practically sucking me in, girl. You were made to take a Dela Marinan man, god-" His pace increases, gripping your hips as the thrusts.

"Are you close?" He asks. "Can you feel that coil of pleasure within you? Go on, release. Cum when the man controlling you demands."

Letting out a final mewl mixed with a sob, you can feel yourself beginning to spasm, walls twitching as a gush of fluids coats his cock. In a display of impressive control, though not surprising for the cold blooded president, he removes his angry cock without finishing. Quickly tucking himself away, back into his boxers, he towels the sweat from his brows as he appraises your fucked-out form. "You have the makings of a good wife. There is more to teach certainly, but there will be time for that. Though-" He tilts his head as if in deep contemplation, before leaning down to press a rather full kiss to your sweat-soaked form. It's passionate, surprisingly so, and he had held back from something that intimate so far. "As much as I love that boy of mine, I wonder if he is man enough to deserve a woman like you." He whispers, before pulling away and rather curtly leaving.

You can hear what sounds like voices in the hall, and soon two female attendants come to wipe you up. You're took sore to protest, and as they scurry out, the hurried footsteps of Feliz replace the noise they made. A look of worry fades slowly when he sees you, looking tired but mostly unharmed. He's got a glass of water in hand, a piece of chocolate, and other random medicine cabinet items. It's clear he was unsure what a woman would need for aftercare, and just took everything.

"I'm here, it's okay now." You can't even bring yourself to tale comfort in the words of your friend. You wanted him to have saved you, yet the most emotion he showed during the ordeal was learning he couldn't have you first. You just lay silent, still. He lays down beside you, fully clothed, curling into your side like a child seeking their mother's comfort. He pulls the sheets over you, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

"It'll be better next time." He promises. "It'll be me." That hardly soothes the pain.

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #x reader #tw.dark content #yandere boy #yandere x reader #yandere dictator #oc Ramon #oc Feliz #tw.noncon #yandere ruler

1K notes · View notes

woninggg · 4 months ago

Text

Distraction—崔胜澈

You tag along to the gym with Seungcheol, but you’re more interested in watching him than actually working out(NSFW)

"Come on, you're just gonna sit there?" Seungcheol whined, tossing his towel over his broad shoulders.

You looked up from your phone, your eyes lazily tracing the contours of his muscular body as he moved through the empty gym. The overhead lights bounced off the sweat that beaded on his skin, creating a teasing glow.

You bit your lip, contemplating his question. The gym was not where you had planned to spend your afternoon, but here you were, tagging along with your boyfriend.

"I might just do that," you replied, smiling coyly. The coolness of the air conditioning kissed your skin as you leaned back on the bench. You knew it annoyed him when you didn't participate, but you also loved teasing him and who are you to resist. "Or maybe I'll just watch you."

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, but you caught the hint of a smirk. He knew you weren't one to pass up the opportunity to admire his physique. He grabbed a set of weights and began to do some bicep curls, flexing dramatically as he did so. You couldn't help but laugh.

The sound of metal clanking against metal filled the space as he continued his workout, his movements precise and rhythmic. Each flex of his muscles made you want him more.

The gym was the perfect stage for his performance, and you were his devoted audience of one. The scent of sweat and iron mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, making it even harder to ignore the heat building between you.

Seungcheol finished his set and approached you, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "You still don't want to join in ?" He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

You feigned innocence, looking up at him with a smirk. "I'm having a good time watching."

"Is that so?" He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I can find a way to make it more interesting for you."

With a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso. Your gaze followed the trail of dampness that had soaked into the fabric, and you felt your mouth go dry. The muscles of his abs rippled as he tossed the shirt aside, and you had to resist the urge to reach out and trace the lines of his body with your fingers.

"Better?" he asked, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Your eyes roamed over the expanse of his bare chest, taking in the way the light danced across his defined abs. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Much."

He took a step closer, the warmth of his body washing over you like a wave. "Good," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've got a little surprise for you."

With that, Seungcheol leaned down and scooped you up in his arms, the sudden motion making you let out a giggle. He carried you over to the nearby yoga mats, his biceps bulging with the effort. You squealed in surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he placed you gently on the ground.

"Now, you're going to get a better show" he said playfully, the glint in his eyes told you that this was still all a game to him.

The coolness of the gym floor met your back as Seungcheol laid you down on the mat, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone before retreating. He grabbed a pair of dumbbells, the metal cool against your palms as he placed them in your hands, trapping you. Your heart raced as he positioned himself over you, his bare chest mere inches away. The smell of sweat and cologne grew stronger, making it difficult to focus on anything but the heat of his body.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol lowered himself down, placing his hands on the dumbbells. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Ready?" he whispered.

Before you could respond, he pushed off the ground, his body hovering above you as he began to do push-ups. Each time he descended, the pressure on your chest increased, sending waves of sensation through your body. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing and releasing, as he moved up and down. Your eyes remained locked on his, fighting the urge to look below the waistband of his shorts, where his boner was becoming increasingly obvious.

You watched in awe as Seungcheol's muscles contracted and expanded with each push-up, his eyes never leaving yours. His breath grew heavier, and he started calling your name.

"Look at you," he murmured, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his exercise. "So beautiful, watching me like that."

"Come on, baby," he panted, his voice low and gruff. "Let's see how long you can keep those pretty hands to yourself."

The sound of his voice, thick with arousal, was like a siren's call, making it impossible for you to ignore the ache that had started to build between your legs. You felt your own body responding, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your gym bra, and your pussy growing wetter with every passing second.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol groaned, his eyes darkening as he stared into yours. "Your tits look so good in that bra." He paused mid-push up, his body hovering just above yours. "I bet you want me to touch them, don't you?"

Your breath caught in your throat as his words painted a vivid picture in your mind. Your hands, trembling gripped the side of the mat, the dumbbells long forgotten. You watched in a haze as Seungcheol's body moved above you, His skin was slick with sweat now, droplets beading and rolling down his chest, landing on your skin."You like watching me, don't you?"

He murmured, his eyes hooded with lust. The sound of his voice was like a caress, sending shivers down your spine. Each time he went down, you felt his cock brush against your thigh. You wanted to touch him, to feel the weight of him on top of you, to have his hands all over your body.

"cheol," you whispered, your voice thick with need. "Please."

He paused again, his body hovering just above yours, the heat from his skin setting you on fire. "What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

Your eyes traveled down his body, taking in the sight of his arousal straining against his shorts. You bit your bottom lip, your heart racing. "I want you" you murmured, the words coming out as a desperate plea.

The sound of his breathing grew harsher, his abs tightening with each word that left his mouth. "Look how hard you're making me," he murmured, his eyes flickering down to the bulge in his shorts.

You couldn't take it anymore. You reached up interlocking your arms behind his neck, pulling him down into a messy kiss. The taste of his sweat mixed with the mint of his gum was intoxicating. His mouth was hot and eager, devouring yours as if he had been starving for it.

He groaned into your mouth, his body still moving rhythmically above you. The sensation of his cock sliding against your side was driving you wild.

Seungcheol's smirked, as he shifted his position slightly, the head of his cock now pressing against the side of your hip. "You want this, don't you?". He began to do push-ups again, each one slower and more deliberate. "You want to feel me inside you, don't you, baby?"

Breaking the kiss, you managed to get out, "Take these off." You nodded towards his shorts, the urgency in your voice clear.

Seungcheol chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood up, his abs flexing as he did. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down slowly, revealing his thick, hard cock.

Seungcheol's breath hissed out as you took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. The sound of his pleasure spurred you on, and you began to bob your head, taking him in and out in a slow rhythm.

The taste of him filled your mouth, the salty sweetness making you moan around him. His hands found their way to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he guided your movements.

you got on your knees, gazing up at him, your mouth watering at the sight. You wrapped your hand around the base, feeling the warmth and power of his erection. You leaned in, taking a moment to admire the way the tip was flushed and glistening with pre-cum before taking him in your mouth.

You felt his muscles tighten as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you sucked. His hips jerked slightly, and you knew you were driving him wild. The grip on your hair grew stronger, his breathing becoming more ragged with each stroke of your tongue. The veins in his cock throbbed against your lips, and you could feel his heart pounding through his cock.

You looked up at him through your lashes, watching the way his eyes rolled back in pleasure. The sight of him losing control was incredibly arousing, making you want to push him even further. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, teasing the slit before taking him back into your mouth, your teeth lightly grazing the underside.

Seungcheol's grip on your hair tightened as you deep-throated him, his hips bucking in response. His moans grew louder, echoing through the deserted gym. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by his ragged breathing. You could feel his cock twitch and pulse in your mouth, a sign that he was close.

The salty taste of his pre-cum grew stronger as you sucked and licked, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. You could see the muscles in his thighs tightening as he fought the urge to come. It was a power play you both enjoyed, you pushing him to the edge and watching him struggle to hold back.

Seungcheol's hands tightened around your hair, his knuckles turning white as you worked him over. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat with every stroke, and you felt a thrill of satisfaction knowing how much he enjoyed it.

As you worked him with your mouth, one hand still stroking him, while the other slid up his thigh, feeling the muscles quiver beneath your touch.

Seungcheol's eyes locked onto yours, a silent plea for you to keep going.

You moaned around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure as you increased your pace. His hips began to move in time with your mouth, his cock sliding in and out of your wet lips. You felt the tension in his body build again, his muscles coiling tighter and tighter. His breaths grew shallower, his chest heaving as he neared climax.

Seungcheol's body stiffened, and his breaths grew erratic as he approached the edge. You could feel his cock starting to swell in your mouth, his precum flowing more freely, he was close you wanted to watch him come apart in your hands.

You pulled back slightly, letting just the tip rest on your tongue, teasing him mercilessly. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and you could see the desperation in them.

The sound of his pleasure filled the empty gym, bouncing off the walls and echoing back to you. You felt a thrill of power knowing that you were the one causing this strong, in-control man to lose his composure.

"Please, baby," he panted, his voice strained. "don't do this to me"

With a wicked smile, you took him in again, sucking harder and faster.

You didn't stop, the vibrations from his voice adding to the delicious tension building in your own body. You could feel your own arousal seeping through your gym shorts, the fabric growing damp as your pussy ached for his touch.

With a final, desperate thrust, Seungcheol pulled out of your mouth, his cock bobbing in front of your face. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice a low growl. You nodded eagerly, your eyes never leaving his. You leaned back slightly, tilting your head back, giving him the perfect view of your tits as you waited.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice strangled with pleasure. His legs quivered, and his abs clenched as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. "feels so good"

Seungcheol's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it rapidly. With a loud groan, he came, thick ropes of cum shooting out and landing on your chest. The warmth of it made you gasp, your nipples tightening in response. You gasped as he painted your tits with his release, the sticky liquid coating your skin.

You sat back on your heels, watching the last of his orgasm pulse through him. His breathing was harsh, his body shaking with the aftermath of pleasure. You reached up with a trembling hand and touched the sticky mess on your chest, bringing your finger to your lips and tasting his release. The salty taste made your eyes roll back, and you couldn't help but moan.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol breathed, as he watched you lick your finger clean. The sight of you tasting him was too much for his still-sensitive cock, and it twitched with renewed interest. He stepped closer, his chest heaving with each breath, and you felt the heat of his body envelop you once again.

"Let's go home," you murmured, your voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "I think we've had enough of a workout here."

Seungcheol's eyes widened with surprise, but the hunger in his gaze didn't fade. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he took in the sight of you on your knees, your chest covered in his cum.

"You're insatiable," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "But if that's what you want..." He stepped back, letting his cock slap against his stomach as he reached for his shorts, making you bite your lip, You knew you'd both want more once you were home, but for now, you needed a break from the intense atmosphere of the gym.

1K notes · View notes

nicholasgoodgirl · 9 months ago

Note

could you make a jealous Nicholas smuttt???

request accepted!

crazy in love -nicholas

summary: you get jealous so you successfully make nicholas jealous in return and he teaches you a lesson.

warning: smut, pin v, unprotected sex (plsplspls use a condom), overstimulation (i think thst it not sure)

a/n: thanks for the request. pls keep them coming

nicholas wanted me to attend this red carpet event with him, and of course i was quick to accept but i quickly dreaded and pushed down the eargness i so suddenly felt to be able to attend such an important place. i started going down a rabbit hole of posts of him with other girls.

the comments collectively agreeing he looks better with the other women he has worked with in the past.

i cut my phone off and waited in silence for my boyfriends stylist to be done with the finishing touches on his suit.

i walk in the dressing room and he was laughing with his stylist, and of course she had to be a woman.

at the after party of the even i planned on getting pay back for the jealousy he probably didn't even know he had instilled in me.

we were here at the after party and I've seen a few recognizable celebrities there but wouldn't dare approach them.

nicholas' hand was comfortably placed around my waist "nervous?" he asks, his words coming out ever so subtly "nope, why would i be" he replied with a low hum; shrugging.

i left his side and went to go get drinks he dispersed off somewhere else as well.

not even 10 minutes later i found myself talking to some guy with nice brown hair that complimented his soft brown eyes but his looks didn't even compare with my man.

"do you have somewhere to be after this?" he asked and i just let out a chuckle "maybe" i looked around to seen nicholas eyes were already on us.

i swallow drly and try and wrap the conversation up "i think i gotta go" that was my abrupt attempt on ending the conversation.

"c'mon pretty lady i can make it worth your while" the man placed his hands on my hip trying to make me stay.

before i could say anything i was being dragged away from him to no suprise by my boyfriend himself.

"let go of me" my voice wobbles. i struggle to tug my hand out of his grip; trying to get free. "no, we're going home. now." his voice was stern and there was no question. we were going home.

in a hurry nicholas unlocks the door, we both walk in and he slams the door shut behind us "what the fuck was that!?" he shouts.

"suddenly we go to a party and you're single?" i feel guilty but then remember the pictures i saw of him with other girls; looking cozier then ever.

"tha-thats not what happend at all" i try to explain myself. "you need to be taught a lesson. wanna be taught a lesson love?" he asks, his hand firmly squeezing my cheeks too firm towards i could only nod

"yeah I'm sure you do" he scoffs and pulls me to our shared room.

once we reach the dimly lit room, the only light illuminating the room was the warm tone of the lamp.

Nicholas pushes me down on the bed and crawls ontop of me starting to place open kisses down my neck, to my collar bone.

going back up to my lips, grabbing my face kissing me roughly. i moan into the kiss giving him enough space for his tounge to invade my mouth, claiming me as his.

he stops what he's doing "take your clothes off" he demands. i comply and begin taking off my heels throwing them aside with a loud bang they hit the ground follwed by the other heel. then pulling my dress off painfully slow so he does it for me.

snatching the material over my head and tosses it aside kissing down my stomach, trailing down to my inner thigh.

"you're so perfect" he mumbles, his fingers mess with the hem of my lacey panties and pulls them down and off me.

he goes down on me and licks the arousal that leaked from my core. i bite my lip to suppress a moan.

another lick, and a pressured kiss against my clit. i was a mess. feeling his breath against me sent shivers all over. i let out a gasp when he swirl his tounge on me. i felt my orgasm nearing; the band ready to snap "close- oh fuck!" i shout

he pulls away almost immediately. "not yet you aren't. turn over f'me"

"please.. i just- m'sorry" i whine, turning over anyway putting my ass in the air "sweetheart this is a punishment you can cum whenever i say. alright?" he says with faux sympathy

i hear his belt fall to the ground and his zipper unzip before he positions himself behind me and lines his throbbing cock up with my entrance.

with a deep thrust, he buries himself far inside me. "you feel that? how deep im inside you?" i nod vigourisly letting out a whimper. his hips snap forward; each thrust giving pushing my body up the bed.

his hand moves down my back pushing my face into the bed allowing me to take him deeper.

nicholas leans down and whispers in my ear "could he fuck you like this?" everything was so intense i could harldy ever come up with a verbal response for anything he asked. so again i shook my head 'no'

he grabs my hair and makes a makeshift ponytail "could he?" ,,no" i cry out squeezing my eyes shut in relief when he lets go of my hair

he continues slamming into me at a relentlessly brutal pace. the only sounds that could be heard was lewed sounds of skin slapping together paird with my muffled moans

we discussed a safe word prior to moments like these and i would have used it in this moment but as intense as everything was it felt so good.

without warning i clench around him and realese the knot that had formed in my stomach bursting. his thrusts didn't slow down, "i didn't say you could cum" he disdainfully reminded

i hiss at the sensitivity. my vision began to blur with tears while I also realize this is him teaching me a lesson. "apologies" he demands "imsorry.. im so fucking sorry" i began sobbing

i could no longer keep my body up my legs began to shake but no matter the condition nicholas' hands kept me in place as he pounds into me. before i knew it he had finished inside me already

i was so far gone in a daze i didn't even realize it. he pulls out and lets my body flop onto the bed "are you alright?" he asks tucking pieces of hair that had fallen in my face behind my ear.

he gets one of the throw blankets and puts it over me. 'mm' is all i could muster up. i was fine but in the moment i just wanted to sleep

a/n: i wanted to add aftercare but i feel like this was long enough..

#nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez smut

2K notes · View notes

lalo0 · 2 months ago

Text

INSIDE AESPA EP. 4┃ Not Until You Beg

Male reader x Ningning x Giselle

Word count: 12k Tags: threesome, BDSM, squirting, rough sex, dirty talk, teasing PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

I didn’t text her first.

I could’ve. Probably should’ve. But by the time I made it halfway back through the city, I’d already been home. Showered. Changed. Sat on the edge of my bed for half an hour doing nothing but thinking.

Then I walked. Nowhere in particular. Around the block. Then down another. Then through a few more I didn’t recognize. Like I was waiting for my body to make a decision my brain hadn’t caught up to.

It was already dark when I stopped walking.

And found myself standing in front of her building, staring at the buzzer like it was gonna tell me if this was a good idea.

I pressed it.

Two rings. Then silence.

Then: the soft buzz of the door unlocking.

I didn’t need to ask if she knew who it was.

The elevator ride was fast. Too fast. I could feel my pulse behind my teeth. There wasn’t a plan. I just needed to see her. Not even to explain.

Just to exist in the same room again.

The hallway looked the same. Polished floors. Dim lighting. Cold and expensive. I reached the door and lifted my hand to knock.

It opened before I could.

But it wasn’t Giselle.

Winter stood in the doorway.

She was barefoot, wearing loose sweats and a cropped hoodie, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug. Her eyes landed on me, unblinking, calm.

Neither of us said anything.

Then her gaze slid over my shoulder, like she was checking for cameras.

She stepped aside.

“Come in,” she said.

I hesitated.

Then stepped in.

The apartment was quiet.

Winter walked past me, taking a sip from her mug. She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t smirk or give me a look.

She just said, "She's in her room," then padded down the hall and disappeared without another word.

A few seconds later, Giselle appeared from around the corner, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, eyes tired but alert.

She stopped when she saw me.

We looked at each other for a second. No hello. No smile. Just silence.

Then she stepped forward.

And let me stay.

She didn’t ask me to sit. I didn’t take my shoes off. I just stood there while she walked to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and sipped.

“Long night?” she said finally.

I swallowed. “You could say that.”

She nodded once. Then turned, walked to the bed, and sat. She pulled one leg under the other, resting her arm along the back of the mattress like she hadn’t just asked something that stuck in the air like smoke.

“You gonna sit, or?”

I moved.

Dropped onto the mattress beside her, close but not touching. She didn’t lean away.

She watched me like she always did — eyes steady, curious, a little tired, a little distant.

“You wanna talk?” I asked.

She exhaled. Not quite a laugh. More of a breath with shape.

“I don’t know what I want,” she said.

“Then why did you let me in?”

Her fingers curled against the mattress.

"I'm not sure yet," she said.

Then she looked away, like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Silence again. Not comfortable. Not cruel. Just full of things neither of us were ready to admit.

I leaned back, palms pressed to the edge of the mattress. “It’s not nothing, you know.”

Giselle didn’t look at me. “What’s not?”

“Whatever this is.”

She snorted. “So now we’re calling it this?”

“I don’t have a better word.”

“I don’t either.”

Her voice dropped on the last line like it surprised her—like admitting she didn’t have control over the narrative hurt more than anything I could’ve said.

She pulled her leg tighter under herself and rubbed a thumb across the seam of her sleeve.

“I thought I’d feel different by now,” she said.

“About what?”

“You.”

My throat stopped. I waited for the punchline. A laugh. A cold edge. Something.

But she didn’t deliver it.

“I thought maybe if we had sex, it would be out of my system,” she said. “I’d be able to move on. Blame the tension. Call it a moment.”

“And now?”

Her eyes finally met mine. “Now it’s worse.”

I exhaled. Something in me wanted to flinch. But not out of guilt. Just the weight of it.

She sighed and looked down, tracing the hem of her hoodie.

“I’m not trying to make this a thing,” she said quickly, like she regretted every word she’d said in the last five minutes. “I don’t do things. Not like this.”

“I don’t either.”

She gave me a side glance. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just…” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. “You came back. That already makes you different.”

I didn’t answer right away.

“You think I’m some romantic?” I said finally.

“I don’t know what you are,” she said. “But I keep trying to figure it out.”

“Why?”

Her jaw tightened. “Because I don’t want to be wrong about you.”

That one landed.

I looked down at my hands, flexed them slowly. They still felt like mine. But something about the way she was watching me made me feel like they were on display.

Giselle’s voice softened. “You don’t let people in easily, do you?”

“No.”

“So why me?”

That question came quiet, but it was the hardest one yet.

And I didn’t have an answer. Not one I could say out loud.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re not here because you got bored.”

“No.”

“You’re not here because you miss the sex.”

“I’m here,” I said, turning to her. “Because I'm confused about us.”

That cracked her, just a little.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t move. But her breath changed. Her hand curled tighter in the fabric of her hoodie. And for a second, she just sat there with that pain in her chest like she didn’t know where to put it.

“Did you think about me?” she asked, even quieter now.

I hesitated.

“After,” I said. ��Not during.”

She nodded. Once. Twice. Like she’d expected it but still didn’t like how it felt.

“I didn’t think I’d care,” she said. “I told myself it was just fun. Something I could control.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do.” she snapped

I watched her for a long time. No comeback. No comfort. Just presence.

She looked at me again.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Not knowing where I stand. Not knowing where you do.”

I shifted a little closer. Not touching her yet. Just near enough to feel her breath hitch.

“You want to know the truth?” I asked.

“No,” she said. Then: “Yeah.”

I nodded.

“I didn’t come here because I knew what to say. Or because I had a plan. I came here because I couldn’t stay away.”

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

Not yet.

She sat with that for a moment — what I’d just said. That I couldn’t stay away.

Then she blinked, like waking from her own thoughts, and looked at me again.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“Okay?”

She nodded, slowly. “I don’t know what this is. Or what it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t either.”

She swallowed. Her voice was soft, but steady now. “And I don’t want to screw it up by trying to define it too early.”

I nodded once. Let her talk.

“I’m confused,” she admitted. “That’s the truth. I like having you around. I like the way you look at me. I like the way you fuck me.”

That made my breath catch, but I didn’t interrupt.

She kept going.

“But I also like not being tied down to a label. Not yet. Not when I’m still figuring myself out.”

There was no apology in her tone. Just honesty. Like she was laying out a map neither of us had drawn yet.

“So we’re not together,” she said, more to herself than me. “But we’re something.”

“I can live with that,” I said.

She looked at me again — this time longer.

“And if something happens with someone else?” she asked.

My heart didn’t jump. I’d already braced for this.

“I won’t lie to you,” I said. “But I also won’t pretend it wouldn’t mean something if you asked me not to.”

She nodded again.

“I’m not ready to ask,” she said. “Not yet.”

That cracked something deeper. But it wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t cold.

It was permission.

“I don’t want to own you,” she added, quieter now. “I just don’t want to pretend I don’t care, either.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Good.” Her eyes met mine. “Then let’s just go with it. Whatever this is. However long it lasts.”

There wasn’t a perfect response. So I didn’t give one. I just looked at her, took her in — the skin under the hoodie, the mess of her hair, the way her fingers picked at the mattress even when she tried to sound calm.

I leaned forward.

And kissed her.

Not rushed. Not demanding.

Just lips on lips. Warm. Slow. Honest.

She kissed back like she meant it. Like this wasn’t closure, but the kind of beginning that doesn’t come with a name.

When we pulled apart, she was smiling. Barely.

And I could feel the pulse of something just under the surface. Something we weren’t ready to name — but weren’t going to ignore.

The kiss lingered in the space between us even after we pulled apart. There was no music, no line to close the scene. Just the silence, warm and fragile, like a blanket we hadn’t decided to share yet.

Giselle exhaled through her nose. Almost a laugh. She didn’t smile, not really. But her hand drifted toward mine and paused there, not quite touching.

Then—

“Mylooo.”

The name came floating through the hallway, singsong and light.

Giselle stiffened instantly.

I turned my head toward the sound, pulse tightening before I even saw her.

The door creaked open with no knock, no announcement.

Ningning leaned against the frame like it was hers. She was barefoot, wearing nothing but a long white tee that fell halfway down her thighs. Hair down, damp at the ends. No makeup. Just flushed cheeks and that slow, feline smirk.

“Well, well,” she said, tilting her head. “Look who came back.”

Giselle’s voice came sharp. “He was invited.”

Ningning didn’t flinch. She stepped inside, walked like she was gliding — not quite bouncing, but close. There was something too casual in the way she moved. Like she was here for fun. But not just that.

Her eyes went straight to me.

“I missed you,” she said, with a pout that didn’t touch her eyes.

“Didn’t realize I was missed,” I said, careful.

“Oh, you were,” she said, brushing a lock of hair over her shoulder. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“That was kind of the point,” Giselle muttered under her breath.

Ningning turned to her with an exaggerated look of surprise. “Still mad at me for stealing your toy?”

Giselle didn’t rise to it immediately. She just leaned back, arms crossed over her chest. “You didn’t steal anything. He makes his own choices.”

Ningning grinned. “Exactly. And he chose well.”

Mylo. Neutral. Stay neutral.

I cleared my throat. “You two always talk like this?”

Giselle said nothing.

Ningning walked closer to the bed and sat — not beside me, but close. Her bare leg grazed mine. Her skin was warm.

“Only when we’re sharing,” she said.

Giselle’s jaw twitched.

She looked at Ningning. “You’re not even pretending to be subtle.”

“Why should I?” she said, shrugging. “He already knows what I sound like when I scream.”

That hit harder than I expected.

Giselle’s stare didn’t break. But her expression dropped a degree colder.

“And you know what I sound like when I don’t,” she said calmly.

Ningning’s grin faltered. Just a flicker.

She blinked, then laughed. “Touché.”

The air was a heavy. Not angry. Not yet. But charged in a way that said: one wrong word and this turns into something else entirely.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, trying to breathe normally. Ningning smelled like coconut body wash and heat. Giselle still smelled like her sheets. Like me.

“Why are you here?” Giselle asked, her tone neutral, her posture not.

Ningning stretched her arms up in a dramatic yawn. “I was bored. Heard voices. Thought I’d say hi.”

“You never just say hi.”

“True,” she said, twirling a piece of hair. “But tonight I might surprise you.”

She turned to me again.

“You seem tense,” she said, voice softer now. “Need a distraction?”

I didn’t answer. My eyes flicked to Giselle, whose silence was loud enough to register as its own response.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Oh,” Ningning said, tilting her head. “That’s a shame.”

She leaned closer, almost whispering now. “You know, I was thinking about you last night.”

“Don’t,” Giselle warned.

Ningning grinned wider. “Just saying. He made an impression.”

“You think this is cute?”

“Not really. I think it’s fun.”

I looked between them. Giselle, clenched jaw and quiet fury. Ningning, all innocent malice wrapped in sugar.

And me, dead center.

“You want me to leave?” I asked Giselle, gently.

“No.” she said immediately.

Ningning raised her brows. “Wow. That was fast.”

Giselle turned to her. “You want to start a fight?”

“Nope.” Ningning leaned back on her hands, her shirt riding high on her thighs. “But I’d love to finish one.”

Neither of them spoke after that.

It wasn’t just quiet anymore.

It was the kind of still that only came before a storm.

Ningning didn’t move.

She was still perched on the edge of the bed like it was hers, one knee folded under her, the other dangling just enough to brush against my shin. Casual. Deliberate. That look in her eye like she was toying with something breakable just to see when it’d crack.

Giselle hadn’t changed position either. But everything about her posture said I see you. The line of her spine. The stillness in her jaw. The way her eyes kept dropping to Ningning’s leg like it had no business being that close.

“Funny thing about you,” Ningning said, turning to me again. “You don’t act like most guys.”

I kept my voice even. “Yeah?”

“Most guys wouldn’t survive one night here without getting all…” She twirled her finger vaguely in the air. “Messy.”

Giselle’s voice came flat. “He’s not here for your commentary.”

“I didn’t see a sign-up sheet yet.” Ningning replied sweetly.

“You came to say hi,” Giselle said. “You’ve said it.”

Ningning looked at her, unblinking. “I’m staying.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a statement. It was a challenge.

Giselle didn’t flinch. “It’s my room.”

“And he’s your guest?” Ningning tilted her head toward me. “Or are we still pretending this house runs on rules?”

Neither of them looked at me.

It was like I’d stopped being the point and started being the prize.

“Let her stay,” I said.

Giselle turned to me, slowly. Not mad. Just… measuring. Like she was trying to decide if that was weakness or strategy.

“You sure?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “But I want to see what happens.”

Ningning smiled like she’d already won something.

She stood and walked over to Giselle’s dresser, started rifling through the top drawer like she lived there. Pulled out a piece of gum, popped it in her mouth, and chewed slowly.

“Your taste in underwear has improved,” she said over her shoulder.

Giselle raised an eyebrow. “Why? Hoping to borrow a pair?”

Ningning grinned and let the drawer slide shut. Then she turned and faced both of us again.

“I’m not here to steal,” she said. “I’m just bored.”

She sat down again—this time on the other side of me. So now I was flanked. One girl on each side. Neither touching. Both watching.

My mouth was dry.

“So,” Ningning said, stretching again, “are we just gonna sit here pretending this isn’t weird?”

“Yes,” Giselle answered.

“Shame.”

A long pause.

Then Ningning leaned in, her voice low in my ear. “Did she make you beg?”

Giselle sat up straighter.

“I mean, she looks like the type,” Ningning continued. “All soft at first, then suddenly you’re the one on your knees.”

“Jesus,” I muttered.

Giselle’s face didn’t change.

But her hand reached behind her and tugged her pillow onto her lap like a shield.

Ningning didn’t miss it.

“She told me you were good.” she whispered.

That pulled my attention.

I turned to Giselle, slow. “You told her?”

Giselle didn’t blink. “She wouldn’t stop asking.”

“That’s not a no.” Ningning said brightly.

The air got heavier. Tighter. Like all it would take is one touch and the whole thing would ignite.

“I’m gonna make tea,” Giselle said suddenly, standing up. “Either of you want some?”

“No thanks,” I said.

“Sure,” Ningning chimed.

Giselle rolled her eyes but left the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Ningning turned to me, voice lower now. No smile.

“She’s not okay.”

I blinked. “What?”

“She’s pretending she is. But she’s not.”

“She said—”

“I know what she said. I also know what she looks like when she’s hurt.”

My voice dropped. “And what’s this? Helping?”

“Maybe.” Ningning shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just curious what you’ll do when we finally stop pretending we don’t want the same thing.”

I stared at her.

And she smiled, slow and wicked.

Ningning stayed close.

Too close.

She didn’t touch me, but everything about her presence screamed intentional. Her thigh rested just shy of mine. Her shoulder turned toward me, open, relaxed. Like if I leaned even slightly, I’d fall into her orbit.

“She’s strong, you know,” she said, voice softer now. “Giselle.”

I nodded.

“But not invincible.”

Her gum clicked once. Then silence.

The door creaked a moment later, and Giselle returned with a single mug — hers.

She didn’t ask why Ningning hadn’t followed her.

Didn’t ask what was said.

She just walked back to the bed and stood in front of us, taking a long sip of whatever was steaming in the ceramic.

Then, quietly: “She’s still here?”

Ningning smiled. “You miss me already?”

Giselle didn’t answer. She set her mug down on the nightstand, then sat. Right next to me. Her hip brushed mine. It wasn’t subtle.

And suddenly, I was caught again. Giselle on my right. Ningning on my left. Both sitting too close. Both pretending they weren’t measuring me, but measuring each other.

“You ever feel like you’re in the middle of something?” I muttered.

“Usually means things are about to get interesting.” Giselle replied smoothly.

Ningning gave her a look. “You’re getting territorial.”

“Am I?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t have to. You’re still in my room.”

“Maybe your room is the most interesting place in the house.”

“Or maybe you just like an audience.”

That one landed.

But Ningning didn’t back down.

She looked at me, biting her lip like she was thinking about saying something worse.

Instead, she leaned in and whispered, “You’re real quiet for a guy caught between two girls.”

“I’m processing,” I said.

“Don’t take too long,” she said. “You might miss the fun part.”

I looked at her. Then at Giselle.

And I could feel it — the heat rising, slow and patient. Like the room itself had started listening.

Giselle leaned forward and grabbed the mug again, wrapping her fingers around the handle.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“I’m good here,” Ningning replied, stretching her legs out across the floor like she owned the space. “Unless Mylo wants me to go.”

Their eyes both found me.

And for a second, I wasn’t sure whose move it was.

But I could feel the pulse in my neck. The air around all three of us pulling tighter.

“I don’t want a fight,” I said.

“Then don’t start one,” Ningning said.

“I won't.” I said, turning to Giselle.

But Giselle’s expression had changed. It wasn’t angry, just… aware.

Her eyes met mine, and there was something new there. Not fear. Not jealousy. Just quiet understanding.

And under it — a question she hadn’t asked yet. You want this? You want her? I didn’t answer it out loud. But I think she saw it in my face. Her throat bobbed once, then she exhaled. And when she set the mug down again, her hand brushed mine.

Not a grab. Not a challenge. Just a reminder that she was here, that I wasn’t alone in this. And that maybe… neither was she.

The room felt warmer now.

Not just body heat. Something else. Tension crawling along the floorboards. Every breath between us a thread waiting to snap.

Giselle’s hand still rested near mine, fingers not quite touching, and on the other side, Ningning shifted closer—just enough to let her bare thigh press against mine.

They didn’t look at each other. But I could feel the weight of them on either side of me, gravity pulling in both directions.

Then Ningning smiled, slow and teasing.

“Okay,” she said softly, “I’ve been good. I haven’t touched.”

She leaned in, breath brushing my ear.

“But I’m done being good.”

Her lips grazed the shell of it. Not a kiss. Just the suggestion of one. Her hand slid to my knee and stayed there, warm and bold.

Giselle moved instantly.

Not rough, not loud—just decisive. Her fingers laced into mine, pulled my hand to her thigh, where her skin was already hot.

“He’s not yours,” she said coolly.

Ningning’s eyes flicked down. “Doesn’t seem like he’s yours either.”

“He came here for me.”

“And stayed for me.”

“Funny,” Giselle said, “I don’t remember him moaning your name last night.”

“Oh?” Ningning turned to me. “You moan for her?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

She was already climbing into my lap.

Her hands slid up my chest, smooth and slow. She straddled me without hesitation, grinding once—slow enough to tease, firm enough to be felt.

But Giselle didn’t back down.

She leaned in from the other side, her lips grazing my neck as her fingers dipped under the hem of my shirt.

“Let’s see if you’re still so cocky when you’re crying under my mouth,” she murmured against my skin, and I shivered.

Ningning laughed. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Her tongue traced my collarbone. And then—Their mouths met right there.

Giselle leaned over me and kissed Ningning hard, open-mouthed, aggressive. Not for her. Not for passion.

For me.

A show of force.

Ningning moaned into it, not backing down. Her hand dropped to my belt, tugged it open without asking. Her hips rocked forward as she kissed Giselle harder, nails dragging down my stomach.

I could barely breathe.

Giselle pulled back, breath shaky, and turned to me.

“Lie back.”

I obeyed.

They followed.

Ningning yanked my shirt off while Giselle stripped her own. Their hands moved fast, not clumsy—confident, practiced. Clothes disappeared like they’d done this a dozen times.

Only this time, it was for me.

And then Giselle was on her knees beside me, straddling my thigh, her lips dragging a hot trail down my chest.

Ningning grinned and climbed over me, facing the other way, her thighs caging my head. Her mouth met my cock just as Giselle’s tongue found my nipple.

I groaned—deep, guttural—fingers gripping the sheets.

They were in sync, but not gentle.

Ningning’s mouth was greedy, messy, stroking and sucking with zero pretense. She made noise on purpose—slurping, moaning, letting spit drip and drag down my shaft like she wanted Giselle to hear it.

Giselle bit my chest, not hard, just enough to leave a mark.

“You’re loud,” she said flatly.

“Jealous?” Ningning gasped.

“Focused.”

Then she shifted down, her tongue following the trail of skin Ningning wasn’t touching.

I was losing it.

Ningning's hand cupped my balls, rolling them gently as she bobbed deeper. Giselle’s mouth dragged down my stomach, teeth grazing just enough to pull a hiss from my throat.

I looked down—Two heads, pink and dark hair brushing against each other, mouths working opposite ends of me, completely focused. No hesitation. No shame. And both of them watching each other out of the corners of their eyes like they were keeping score.

I was going to lose it fast.

“Fuck—slow down,” I gasped.

“Make us,” Ningning said, pulling back with a wet pop.

Giselle just smirked.

And then she wrapped her mouth around the base of my cock while Ningning took the tip again, their tongues briefly brushing—fighting—for control. It was like they were trying to devour me from opposite ends.

Ningning moaned first. A little loud, a little performative. She popped off me with a gasp, slapped my cock against her cheek twice, then turned her face just enough to let the shaft smear against her lips.

“God, he’s throbbing,” she said with a breathless laugh. “You gonna let me win this one?”

“I don’t let anyone win,” Giselle snapped, and in one motion she slid her mouth all the way down my cock—past halfway, deeper, wetter, slow and brutal.

My whole body jolted.

“Fucking—Giselle—”

Her name spilled out without meaning to.

Ningning raised an eyebrow. “Round two, huh?”

She leaned in, licked up the underside of my cock where Giselle wasn’t, and then pulled the other girl’s hair aside to kiss her cheek as she bobbed up.

“You missed a spot.”

She dove back down.

Giselle didn’t yield.

Instead, she grabbed the base of me in one hand, stroked what Ningning couldn’t reach, and bit her lip as she whispered, “You’re drooling all over him.”

“I am.”

Ningning went deep again, this time moaning on purpose around me, fingers kneading my thighs, her other hand creeping up to cup my balls as she sucked hard—sloppy, loud, relentless.

Giselle dragged her tongue over what was left of my shaft, licking around Ningning’s lips, not even flinching when their mouths collided again on me.

The sounds were obscene. Wet and raw and constant. I was sweating, trembling. My fists curled in the sheets.

“You wanna cum already?” Giselle asked me, voice deceptively soft as she looked up, her lips slick.

I shook my head. Couldn’t speak.

“I think he does,” Ningning teased, pumping me twice, her wrist twisting with precision. “Look at him. He’s about to beg.”

“I don’t beg,” I growled.

“Maybe not,” Giselle said, mouth brushing my base again. “But you break.”

And then she sucked hard—just the base—at the same time Ningning swallowed me down, deep.

“Fuuuck—”

My hips twitched and they both felt it.

“Almost,” Ningning purred. “Someone’s close.”

Giselle didn’t stop.

She just squeezed tighter at the base, held me there with one hand, and took over completely—mouth gliding, lips tight, tongue working in cruel little flicks under the head.

Ningning backed off, eyes locked on me, watching every stutter in my breath.

“Come on, baby,” she whispered. “Let’s see whose mouth wins.”

Giselle looked up, never breaking rhythm.

My hips buckled.

“I’m—fuck—”

“No,” Giselle said, pulling off instantly, gripping my cock tight.

My head dropped back.

Painful denial.

“You don’t cum yet,” she said, stroking slow, mean.

Ningning smirked. “Aww. He was so close.”

Giselle tilted her head. “Good. He’s staying hard for round two.”

Ningning straddled my chest like a cat in heat—smirking, smug, her thighs pinning me down while her fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt. The oversized tee she’d come in still clung to her hips, soaked through with sweat and tension, her nipples already hard under the thin cotton.

“I think I want to ride your face next,” she said playfully, leaning forward. “Think you can handle that, Mylo?”

She barely finished the sentence before Giselle yanked her back by the hair. Not rough. Not violent. Just… dominant.

Ningning gasped, not from pain—but shock.

Giselle’s grip was firm, the other hand sliding to her hip, spinning her off of me like she weighed nothing.

“Not yet,” Giselle said. “You’re forgetting who finishes first.”

“Excuse you?” Ningning snapped, but she was already on her back, legs tangled in the sheets.

Giselle didn’t answer.

She climbed on top of her.

One thigh between Ningning’s legs. One hand gripping her wrist and pinning it above her head. Her eyes, cool and focused, locked down like a predator who’d just lost patience.

“You want to be loud, Ning?” Giselle asked, lips hovering inches from her mouth. “Wanna act like you’re the one he wants?”

Ningning bared her teeth in a grin. “He came in my mouth last night.”

“And he fucked me raw the night before that.”

They were nose to nose now. Breath to breath, no laughter left, just electricity. And then—Giselle kissed her. Hard. Not sensual, not romantic. Claiming.

Ningning bucked against her, one hand trapped, the other scrambling to grab Giselle’s side—but she didn’t stop it. She moaned into the kiss like she’d been waiting for it, hips grinding up against Giselle’s thigh with something between frustration and heat.

When they finally broke apart, both of them panting, Giselle leaned in and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Then she sat up, still straddling Ningning’s waist, and pulled her shirt over her head. No bra underneath. Her tits bounced free, sweat-slick and flushed, nipples hard as glass.

Ningning licked her lips.

“I hate you,” she muttered.

“No, you don’t,” Giselle said.

She reached over to the nightstand drawer.

I didn’t know what she was looking for.

Until I heard the jingle of metal.

Cuffs.

Real ones. Not fur-lined. Not decorative.

Stainless steel.

The sound made Ningning freeze—just for a second.

Then she smirked. “You’re seriously cuffing me?”

“You don’t get to make the rules tonight.”

“Giselle—”

“Hands. Up.”

She said it like a command, not a request.

And Ningning—bratty, cocky, untouchable Ningning—obeyed.

She lifted her arms over her head, wrists together.

Giselle snapped the cuffs on fast, locking them to the headboard with a flick of her wrist.

Then she looked down at Ningning, spread and restrained, shirt pushed up under her arms, her bare thighs squeezing together from anticipation.

She looked fucking ruined already.

And Giselle hadn’t even started.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly. “You’ll still get his cock.”

Then she turned to me.

“But not until you beg for it.”

Ningning snarled. “Fuck you.”

Giselle laughed. “Later, maybe.”

She slipped down her own panties, tossed them aside, and sank lower between Ningning’s thighs. The younger girl shuddered, ankles flexing as Giselle kissed her inner thigh—once, twice—then bit it just hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck—Giselle—”

“Shh,” she said.

Her tongue slid over Ningning’s folds in one long, hot stroke. Ningning moaned, loud. Giselle did it again. Then sucked. Then licked faster.

Ningning’s back arched, fists clenched in the cuffs, and she let out a string of breathless whimpers that barely formed words.

“Oh my god—fuck—fuck, right there—”

Giselle didn’t let up.

She gripped her thighs and spread her wider, tongue working in circles, then flicks, then deep strokes that made Ningning gasp and writhe.

“Fuck—Giselle—I’m—”

“No,” Giselle said, pulling back instantly. “Not yet.”

“Giselle—please—don’t—fuck—don’t stop—”

“You want to cum?” Giselle asked, eyes gleaming.

Ningning nodded furiously. “Yes—fuck—yes—please—”

“Beg better.”

“Giselle—please—I need it—need your tongue—please—fuck—just let me cum—”

Giselle went back in, tongue relentless, mouth tight around her clit.

Ningning came like a fountain—back arched, legs shaking, mouth open in a silent cry that broke into a sob.

Giselle didn’t stop.

Didn’t even slow down.

She held Ningning’s hips down and licked her through it, over and over, until she was jerking, twitching, gasping for air. And still cuffed. Still helpless.

When she finally stopped, Giselle sat up, mouth slick, and turned to me.

“She’s not done,” she said.

Then she reached for the rope.

Ningning let out a shaky breath. Her legs trembled. Her chest rose in ragged bursts. But her eyes—red, wet, wide—were still defiant.

Still burning.

“I said I’d make her beg,” Giselle murmured, as much to herself as to me.

She turned to the nightstand and unspooled the rope in slow, fluid movements—knots already half-formed, like she’d done this before. Like she had planned to do this again.

“Come here,” she said to me without looking.

I moved. Silently. Kneeling beside the bed as the heat off Ningning’s body reached me in waves. Her skin was glowing. Her arms still pinned above her, wrists cuffed to the headboard. Her pussy was soaked—spread, twitching, pink and sensitive as hell. And her voice was hoarse from the moaning.

“You’re gonna help,” Giselle said, passing me one end of the rope. “Lift her leg.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I hooked my hands under Ningning’s thigh and pulled it up, bent and open.

Giselle looped the rope around her ankle, quick and snug, tying it to the side of the frame with a flourish. Then she did the same to the other—until Ningning was bound open, her knees parted wide, arms still cuffed, body completely exposed between us.

She squirmed, pulling against the restraints.

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “You guys are—fuck—”

“Quiet,” Giselle said.

She moved between her legs again. Her fingers ran down the inside of Ningning’s thighs, featherlight, teasing.

“You’re gonna cum for him this time,” Giselle said, glancing back at me. “You’re gonna let him watch every second of it.”

I swallowed. My cock throbbed. Just seeing her like this—splayed out, dripping, gasping—was enough to make my head spin.

“She’s yours for now,” Giselle added, crawling backward on her knees to make room. “But keep her begging.”

I leaned over her.

Ningning’s eyes met mine, wide and wet. Her bottom lip trembled.

“Mylo,” she whispered. “Please—touch me—I need it—I can’t—”

I slipped two fingers inside her without a word.

She screamed.

Her body arched so violently the headboard thudded against the wall. Her back bowed, her arms trembling in the cuffs.

“AHHH—FUCK—YES!”

She clenched hard around my fingers. Still so tight. Still fluttering from that last orgasm.

I stroked inside her—deep, firm, curving just enough to brush that spot that made her wail.

“YES—oh my god—don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop!”

I didn’t.

I pumped harder. My palm slapped her clit with every thrust, wet and loud and nasty. Her body fought the restraints like she was trying to throw herself into me.

Her legs trembled violently.

She gasped.

“I'm—I’m gonna—Mylo—fuck I’m gonna—”

I stopped.

Dead still.

Two fingers inside her. One second away from the edge.

She screamed.

“NO! Mylo—fuck—you asshole!”

Giselle smirked behind me.

“Aw. Poor thing.”

“She’s shaking,” I said, pulling out just enough to feel her clamp down, desperate.

“Give her a break?” Giselle teased. “Or make her work for it?”

I looked at Ningning.

Her head was thrown back, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.

And still—still—she looked cocky.

Just barely.

“Work,” I said.

Giselle laughed. “Good choice.”

She reached between Ningning’s legs and gave one slow drag of her fingers over that soaked, trembling clit.

Ningning twitched.

“Beg again,” Giselle said softly.

Ningning growled. “You bitch—”

Slap. Not hard. But firm, right across her pussy. Ningning howled.

“AHHH—fuck—okay—okay please—please—let me cum—I’ll do anything—I swear—please Mylo—please—!”

I slipped my fingers back in. Deep. Giselle leaned in and sucked her clit. And Ningning exploded, she screamed so loud it cracked.

Her thighs shook so violently the rope tensed. Her body locked—completely—like a live wire, shuddering and gasping as the orgasm ripped through her like lightning.

“FUCK—FUCK—FUCK—YES—AAHHHHH—MYLO—!”

I didn’t stop.

Neither did Giselle.

We made her feel it. Made her ride it. Dragged it out until she was sobbing, soaked, babbling through clenched teeth. And still tied up. Still ours.

Giselle pulled off her with a pop and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Then looked at me.

“She’s ready for round two.”

She was still panting.

Wrists trembling against the cuffs. Hair stuck to her face. Sweat pooling at the bend of her neck. But Ningning’s eyes were already sparking again. That same wicked, bratty fire back in full blaze.

“She’s ready for round two,” Giselle said, wiping her mouth, cool and smug.

“Damn right I am,” Ningning hissed.

I looked at her—then back to Giselle. Although Giselle was cute when she was in charge, I wanted to see her beg.

“She’s earned something.”

Giselle tilted her head. “You think so?”

“I think,” I said, stepping closer, “you’re overdue.”

And before Giselle could reply, I leaned down and undid the cuffs.

Ningning’s wrists dropped limp at first, tingling, red-ringed. Then she pushed herself up. Slowly. Deliberately. Stretching her back, rolling her shoulders, cracking her neck like she was preparing for a fight.

Giselle raised an eyebrow.

“What now, baby?”

Ningning lunged.

She shoved Giselle back onto the bed in one smooth motion, knees straddling her hips, hands pinning her arms. The sheer force of it left Giselle breathless for a second—and Ningning grinned.

“My turn.”

Giselle tried to smirk. “You think I’ll just lie here?”

“You’re not gonna lie,” Ningning whispered. “You’re gonna squirm.”

Her hands shot down and yanked Giselle’s wrists up over her head, fast and sure, and before Giselle could twist away, click. She had grabbed the cuffs. One locked. Then the other.

Giselle gasped. “Are you fucking serious—”

“Dead serious,” Ningning purred. “You said I was loud, right?”

She leaned in, tongue trailing over Giselle’s collarbone.

“Let’s see how quiet you can be.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Ningning dragged her nails down Giselle’s sides—slow, hard enough to leave lines.

Giselle bit her lip.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Oh, babe,” Ningning said, dipping her head. “I never bluff.”

Then she bit her nipple.

Giselle yelped.

“Fuck—!”

“Oh, did that hurt?” Ningning teased, licking the tip.

“Do it again,” Giselle growled.

Ningning did. Harder.

I watched Giselle squirm—hips shifting, legs twisting, eyes squeezed shut, breath shaky.

“You’re dripping,” I said.

Ningning glanced down. “Oh, I know.”

She climbed off her chest, dropped between her thighs, and spread her open with two fingers.

Giselle moaned without meaning to.

“Still think I’m bluffing?” Ningning asked.

“Do your worst.”

“I plan to.”

She ducked her head and went to town.

Her tongue was everywhere. Sloppy, aggressive, fast—completely different from how Giselle had taken her apart. She wasn’t building pressure. She was breaking it.

Giselle bucked hard.

Her wrists strained against the cuffs. Her legs tried to close—but Ningning held them wide.

I stepped in. Grabbed one thigh and pinned it.

“Good boy,” Ningning said without looking.

I stroked Giselle’s leg, fingers grazing her skin, as Ningning ate her like a meal. Her mouth was loud—wet, messy, cruel. Every lick made Giselle twitch. Every suck made her whimper.

And then—

“Fuck—fuck—I’m gonna—”

Ningning stopped.

Dead silent.

Giselle growled.

“Don’t—fucking—edge me.”

Ningning grinned. “Now you get it.”

She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the vibrator.

“Wait—wait—” Giselle’s voice cracked. “Not that—”

“Oh yeah.”

The toy buzzed to life.

“Remember this?” Ningning said sweetly

Giselle thrashed. “You little—fuck—don’t you—”

Ningning pressed it right against her clit. Giselle screamed. Not loud. Violent.

Her body locked instantly, thighs trembling so hard I thought she’d tear the rope off the frame. The toy never left her—just constant, brutal vibration while Ningning licked right beside it.

“I hate you!” Giselle cried out.

“I know.”

“You bitch—fuck—Mylo—!”

I knelt beside them.

Held her hips down.

Watched her fall apart.

“Let it happen,” I said.

She did. And came like a storm.

Giselle was gasping, twitching—still cuffed to the headboard, legs shaking from the vibrator pressed relentlessly to her clit. She’d just come hard enough to shake the bed.

And Ningning? She wasn’t done. Not even close.

She shut off the toy and tossed it aside, crawling up over Giselle like a panther licking blood from her teeth. Her eyes sparkled, cruel and gleeful. She straddled Giselle’s chest, leaned down so close their noses nearly touched.

“Aww,” she cooed. “Poor princess can’t handle a little tongue?”

Giselle glared through her sweat-soaked bangs. Her chest still heaved. “Fuck… you.”

“Oh, you wish,” Ningning said, tilting her head. “But you don’t get to make demands right now.”

She grabbed a pillow from the side, stuffed it behind Giselle’s head, then reached for the waistband of her own panties. Slowly—tauntingly—she peeled them down.

And dropped them across Giselle’s face.

“Since you like mouthing off so much,” she said, “maybe try mouthing this.”

Giselle froze.

Her breath hitched.

Then Ningning slapped her lightly across the cheek with the damp fabric. “Open up.”

Giselle didn’t move.

So Ningning did it for her.

Two fingers between her lips, prying them open just wide enough. Then she shoved the balled-up panties into her mouth and pressed her palm against Giselle’s chin to hold them in.

“God, look at you,” she said, grinning down at her. “Still cuffed, still dripping, now gagged with my panties. Tell me, Giselle—do you still feel like the one in charge?”

Giselle moaned behind the gag—frustrated, humiliated, and fucking soaked.

I watched, hard as a rock, my cock twitching from the sight of it. Giselle’s thighs still trembled. Her cheeks were red. Her tits rose and fell under Ningning’s knees.

She looked wrecked. And Ningning wasn’t done. She leaned forward again, closer to Giselle’s ear.

“You act so tough,” she whispered. “So perfect. The hot one. But the moment you get a little pressure, you come like a needy little cumslut.”

Giselle whimpered—low, guttural, almost a sob.

“Pathetic,” Ningning said, licking her lips.

Then she turned to me.

“Mylo,” she said sweetly, “do you know how many guys dream about her?”

I nodded, eyes locked on the mess between them.

“And now look at her,” Ningning said, grabbing a fistful of Giselle’s hair and yanking her head back slightly. “Stripped. Gagged. Cuffed. Thighs twitching like a toy.”

She leaned down and spat on her chest.

It hit just above her nipple, sliding down her breast.

Giselle moaned again, louder now, almost desperate.

“Oh,” Ningning laughed, “you like that, don’t you?”

She turned back to me.

“Tell me,” she said. “You still think she’s in charge?”

I didn’t answer.

I just moved beside them, hard and leaking, and stared down at Giselle’s red, ruined face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Ningning whispered, dragging her thumb through the spit on Giselle’s chest. “You’ll get a taste of redemption soon.”

“But first,” she said, “I want to see you break for him.”

Giselle was gagged and cuffed, cheeks flushed, chest still wet with spit. Her thighs trembled. Her breath came in short, shaking huffs. And Ningning?

She was glowing.

Crouched over her like a devil in heat, eyes gleaming, voice velvet-edged with cruelty.

“She looks mad,” she said, pinching Giselle’s cheek. “You mad, baby?”

Giselle didn’t respond. Couldn’t—not with Ningning’s soaked panties stuffed in her mouth. But the way her eyes burned was enough. Her jaw tightened. Her chest hitched like she wanted to scream.

Ningning leaned closer. “Want me to take it out? Hm? Let you talk?”

She reached down.

Slid the gag out slowly—dragging it along Giselle’s tongue.

The panties dropped onto her chest with a wet slap.

“Say something.”

Giselle spat.

Not at her—just to clear her mouth. Then she whispered, hoarse and shaking: “You’re going to regret this.”

Ningning laughed. Then slapped her across the face. It wasn’t hard. But it echoed. Giselle flinched. Not from pain—from shock. Her mouth opened in protest, but the words didn’t come.

Ningning slapped her again. Opposite cheek. Same sting. Giselle gasped. Her arms pulled at the cuffs. Her back arched. But the moan she made? It didn’t sound angry. It sounded wet.

“She likes it,” I said, watching her nipples harden.

“She does,” Ningning said, grinning. “She just doesn’t want to admit it.”

She reached up and grabbed a fistful of Giselle’s hair, yanked her head to the side, exposing her throat.

“Tell him,” she hissed. “Tell Mylo how much you like being slapped.”

“Fuck you—” Giselle started.

Slap. She cried out. Then moaned again. Her hips rolled. I moved closer.

Watched her chest rise and fall in desperate waves.

“She’s close,” I said, staring at her pussy—still glistening, still dripping, even though she hadn’t been touched in minutes.

Ningning glanced at me.

“You wanna help?”

I didn’t answer. I just reached out and grabbed one of Giselle’s tits, rough and fast. She whimpered. Then I slapped it.

She gasped—sharp and loud—and her legs twitched.

“Holy shit,” Ningning said, biting her lip. “Do it again.”

I slapped her again. The sound was filthy. Her tit bounced hard, skin flushed. Giselle made a noise that wasn’t a moan or a cry. It was somewhere in between.

“I think she likes being our toy,” I said, leaning in.

Ningning crawled over to the other side and slapped her opposite breast—synchronized.

Giselle broke.

“F-fuck!” she cried. “Fucking stop—”

But her hips didn’t stop. They fucked the air. I grabbed her jaw. Made her look at me.

“You’re soaking the sheets,” I said. “You want more?”

She shook her head.

But her thighs said otherwise.

Her clit throbbed. Her chest heaved. Her voice cracked.

“You want to be used,” Ningning whispered, pinching her nipple until she whimpered. “Admit it.”

Giselle bit her lip.

“No.”

Ningning leaned down. “Then why are you still dripping?”

“Because—fuck—because—”

I reached between her legs.

One finger—barely inside her.

She clenched.

“Because you’re mine,” I said.

“No—fuck—stop—”

But I didn’t.

I fucked her slowly—just my fingers—and watched her squirm.

Her eyes rolled.

She didn’t want to come.

But her body begged.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t stop—don’t—please—”

Ningning smirked. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head.

Then Ningning slapped her again—light, fast, teasing.

Giselle screamed.

“I love it—fuck—I love it—please—just let me cum—please—”

Her eyes found mine.

Desperate. Wet.

And I saw it.

She was a mess.

Wrists still cuffed, arms stretched above her head, chest glowing red with slaps and spit. Her thighs trembled, hips rolling helplessly into my hand, soaking everything under her. Her eyes were glassy—half-defiant, half-broken—and her lips trembled every time she tried to form a sentence.

And Ningning?

Still straddling her chest, watching her squirm.

"You hear that, baby?" she purred, brushing a thumb over Giselle’s swollen lip. "You’re dripping all over for us."

“Mmnh—” Giselle whimpered.

Ningning leaned in and kissed her cheek, then nipped at her ear.

“You’re such a good little girl when you’re falling apart.”

I ran my fingers down her thigh. Slow, soft. The kind of touch that would’ve made her squirm if she still had strength left. I reached between her legs again, fingers sliding through slick heat.

She twitched.

"She’s so sensitive," I muttered, watching her melt.

“She can take it,” Ningning whispered. “Right, baby?”

Giselle nodded once. Barely.

“Say it,” I told her.

“I… I can…”

“Louder.”

“I can take it,” she gasped. “Please—please let me—please—”

“Aw,” I cooed. “Princess wants to cum?”

Giselle nodded again, desperate.

“Like a good girl?” I said.

She whimpered. “Y-yes—yes, like a good girl—”

We moved together.

Ningning slid down to kiss her again—deep and wet and claiming—while I lined up between her legs and pushed into her in one slow, thick stroke.

She screamed.

“AHHH—f-fuck—Mylo—!”

I started slow. Deep. Cruel. Every thrust designed to make her feel full, helpless, owned.

Ningning held her face, whispered things between kisses.

“You’re so pretty like this, baby… so perfect when you cry… keep taking it… show us how good you are…”

Giselle sobbed.

“Please—please—ohmygod—I’m gonna—”

“Not yet, princess,” I said.

Her walls fluttered around me. She writhed.

Ningning dragged her nails down her sides. “Hold it, baby. Just a little longer. Be good.”

I slammed into her harder. Faster. Giselle’s body lifted off the bed with every thrust. She begged with her whole body—arched, stretched, trembling.

“Please—I c-can’t—Mylo—please—Ning—I need—”

“Now,” Ningning said, voice low and firm. “Cum for us, princess.”

“Cum like a good girl,” I whispered.

And she did.

She screamed.

Long, high, broken.

Her whole body convulsed. Her thighs locked around my waist. Her cunt clamped down and milked my cock like she never wanted to let go.

She sobbed through it, moaning both our names, her voice cracking on every syllable.

Ningning kissed her again.

“Good girl… good girl…”

I didn’t stop.

I kept fucking her through it. Giselle was trembling, her moans dissolving into whimpers. Her eyes fluttered. Her whole body gone, melted, wrecked.

And I was close.

Too close.

Ningning watched me, smirking. “Give it to her.”

I slammed in deep and came—hard, full, spilling everything inside her. My groan was low, rough, desperate.

Giselle shuddered around me, riding every pulse of it. We stayed there like that—tangled, breathless, dripping. She blinked slowly, eyes dazed.

Ningning brushed hair from her face. “Still with us, baby?”

Giselle nodded weakly.

“Good girl,” I whispered again.

And she smiled.

Just barely..

Ningning leaned back on her knees, messy and smug, fingers trailing down Giselle’s cheek like she’d just won a war. Her grin said it all—she thought she was done. That we were finished.

But Giselle was already lifting her head.

Eyes glassy. Hair wild. Lips swollen from the gag and kisses. Still trembling—but smiling now. A slow, wicked smile.

I reached up and unlatched her cuffs from the headboard. She shook her wrists out once, then sat up.

And I saw it click. She wasn’t broken. She was waiting.

Ningning turned toward me, ready to bask in her chaos—and that’s when I moved.

I grabbed her by the hips and flipped her down onto her back, her body hitting the mattress with a gasp. Before she could scramble up, Giselle slid over and grabbed her wrists.

“What—wait—” Ningning started.

But she was too slow.

I snapped the cuffs around her wrists before she could squirm away, locking them to the same headboard Giselle had just been strung up on.

“Shit—what the fuck—” she thrashed once, then stilled, staring at both of us. “You guys are serious?”

Giselle leaned in close, chest still glowing from slaps and sweat. “You think you’re the only one who gets to have fun?”

Ningning’s eyes darted to me. Her mouth opened like she had something clever to say—but I kissed her before she could. Rough. Claiming.

She moaned into it.

And her hips rolled.

Giselle slid down, kissed her neck. Then lower. Her mouth traced the curve of Ningning’s tits, sucking until deep red marks bloomed under her tongue.

“Still think you’re in charge?” she asked.

Ningning didn’t answer.

So I slapped her breast.

Not hard.

She gasped—loud, shocked.

Her back arched and her thighs clenched.

“She likes it,” Giselle said, licking a slow path across her stomach. “Of course she does.”

I slid between her legs, palms on her thighs, holding her open.

“She made a mess of you,” I said. “Time to return the favor.”

Giselle smiled. “Together?”

“Together.”

Ningning tried to pull away—but the cuffs held. And her pussy?

It was dripping.

I ducked down and dragged my tongue through her folds, slow and thick. Her hips bucked. She tried to twist, to get away from it—but I didn’t let her.

I held her down and devoured her.

Giselle climbed up, straddling her chest again, dragging her fingers through Ningning’s hair, keeping her pinned.

“You gonna be our good girl now?” she purred.

“F-fuck you—” Ningning gasped, voice already cracking.

I slapped her thigh. Bit the inside of it. She screamed.

Then I dove back in.

Tongue on her clit. Two fingers inside her. My pace merciless. Wet. Filthy.

She was thrashing. Moaning. Her voice was breaking.

“Please—please stop—please—”

Giselle leaned down.

“You didn’t stop when I begged.”

She slapped her. Just once. Sharp across the face.

Ningning whimpered. And she came. Just like that.

Her whole body snapped, her legs clamped around my head, and she screamed—a loud, wild sound that cracked halfway through.

I didn’t stop.

I licked harder, deeper, fucked her until she was sobbing.

Giselle reached back and pinched her nipple, twisted it until she was writhing beneath both of us.

“Please—please—I can’t—I can’t—” Ningning begged, shaking.

I pulled back, just enough to speak.

“You can.”

Then shoved my tongue back in.

She screamed again. And broke.

Tears streamed down her face. Her body thrashed. Her thighs shook. She came so hard she soaked my mouth, the sheets, everything.

She looked ruined. Beautifully, perfectly ruined. And we weren’t done. She was still cuffed.

Still flushed from the last orgasm, thighs twitching, lips parted like she needed more but wouldn’t admit it. Her body said yes, but her eyes? Still holding that spark. That edge.

The brat hadn’t surrendered.

Yet.

I knelt beside her, dragging two fingers along her inner thigh. She shivered, but didn’t move. Her hands tugged at the cuffs. Not to escape—just to feel it.

“You look good like this,” I said.

She turned her head, eyes locking with mine. Her smirk was faint but there.

“Don’t think I’m saying thank you.”

I grinned. “Didn’t ask.”

I leaned in, stroked her cheek. She let me. But when I brushed my thumb across her lip—

“Don’t call me baby,” she said sharply.

I blinked. “What?”

“Or princess. I’m not your little anything.”

Giselle let out a slow laugh behind me. She was sprawled on her side, legs still damp and red from where Ningning had wrecked her earlier. She propped herself up on one elbow and raised an eyebrow.

“Well. That’s new.”

Ningning tugged at her cuffs again, chin tilted high.

“I can take whatever you throw at me,” she said. “But don’t think I’m one of your soft little toys. You don’t own me.”

Her voice cracked just slightly on the last word.

I reached out and grabbed her jaw, not hard—just firm enough to stop the noise.

“Not yet,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed.

And I saw it—the flash of heat beneath her defiance. She liked pushing. She just didn’t know how much she wanted to be pushed back.

I leaned closer. My cock pressed against her cheek, wet and heavy.

“You open your mouth when I tell you.”

She stared up at me. Didn’t move.

So I slapped her. Not hard. Just enough to sting. Enough to make her eyes widen.

“Open.”

She did. But her glare didn’t drop.

I slid in—slow at first, letting her feel the weight of it on her tongue. Her throat clenched reflexively. She gagged once. Then again. But she didn’t pull back.

Didn’t whimper. Didn’t break.

Not yet.

I grabbed her hair and started to move. Shallow thrusts at first, then deeper. Her spit coated everything. Her chest rose faster, her toes curled against the sheets. But her eyes never softened.

Giselle moved behind me and slid her fingers between Ningning’s legs.

“She’s soaked,” she said softly. “But still so fucking proud.”

“Not for long,” I muttered.

I shoved deeper. Ningning’s moan caught in her throat. She tried to twist her hips—away or toward, I couldn’t tell. Her body wanted it even if her pride didn’t.

“You gonna be good for us?” I asked, sliding out just enough for her to speak.

She coughed once. Spit clung to her chin.

“Fuck. You.”

I smirked.

“Princess, huh?” Giselle said, fingering her faster.

“I said—fuck—don’t—call me—”

Her voice broke. Her hips bucked.

“You feel that?” I growled. “That’s your body saying yes while your mouth still lies.”

She moaned. Loud. Uncontrolled.

And I knew. The brat act was unraveling. Bit by bit, she was starting to need this. Starting to fall. She was trying so fucking hard to hold it together.

Giselle had her fingers back inside her, slow and cruel. My cock rested heavy against Ningning’s cheek, glistening from where she’d gagged and moaned and nearly choked around it. And still—somehow—she had that look.

Like she was stronger than this. Like she could come out the other side and laugh in our faces.

Her wrists tugged uselessly against the cuffs.

Her legs shook.

And when Giselle curled her fingers just right, she flinched—but bit her lip instead of screaming.

“Still holding on, huh?” I said.

She didn’t look at me. Didn’t dare.

“Answer me, princess.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not your princess.”

Giselle laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her stomach. “She’s still got fight.”

“Not for long,” I muttered.

I slid two fingers into her mouth. Wet. Rough. She moaned around them—but she didn’t suck. Didn’t give me that satisfaction.

So I pulled them out.

And slapped her clit with the fingers.

She screamed. Her hips jerked off the mattress—and I knew that one was close. I could feel it in her body. That tension. That edge. But Giselle pulled her fingers out.

I slapped her pussy again—light, fast, just enough to drag her back down.

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

“I—fuck—please—”

“Please what?”

She bit her lip again. Hard. And that pissed me off.

So I leaned down and bit her nipple. Not gently.

She arched off the bed, crying out as I sucked hard, teeth grazing the soft skin until her breath came in sobbing gasps.

“Still not ours?” I growled against her chest.

She shook her head. “I—I—”

Another moan. Her hips twisted again, looking for anything—anything—to grind against.

Giselle smirked, brushing her lips across Ningning’s inner thigh.

“She’s close.”

“She doesn’t get to be.”

I reached down and rubbed her clit in hard, fast circles—just enough to make her hips stutter, her mouth drop open—

Then stopped. She let out a ragged cry, almost a sob. I did it again. Same rhythm. Same pressure.

Then stopped right at the edge.

“No!” she gasped, pulling at the cuffs. “No, please—I was—fuck—I was—”

“You were what?” Giselle asked sweetly, kissing her hipbone. “Cumming? About to cum for us?”

She whimpered. But still didn’t say it.

So we did it again.

And again.

Ten times.

Twenty.

Every time she got close—every time her body started to tremble, every time her moans pitched up, every time she gasped like she couldn’t breathe—

We stopped. And every time, she begged a little harder. Not for release. Not yet. But for mercy. For anything.

Her thighs were soaked. Her voice was shot. Her chest was flushed and rising in frantic waves.

She was breaking.

Finally.

“Please,” she panted. “Please—I need to—I can’t—”

“You can,” I said. “You will.”

“I’ll be good,” she whispered.

I tilted my head. “Say it louder.”

“I’ll be good.”

“Say what you are.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “Don’t make me—”

I grabbed her jaw. “Say. It.”

She choked on the words. Struggled. Fought.

Then, finally—

“I’m yours.”

I paused.

Giselle looked up at me.

I leaned down.

“You’re whose?”

She moaned.

“Yours, Mylo. Giselle’s. Yours. I—I belong to you—please—please let me—”

But we didn’t.

Not yet.

She hadn’t earned it.

And she knew it.

Tears slid down her cheeks. Her pussy clenched around nothing. Her body bucked, straining against the edge we held her on like it might kill her to stay there.

She didn’t say no anymore. She didn’t say anything. Just soft, broken whimpers of please, over and over, like a mantra. Like worship. Like surrender.

And when I slid my fingers into her mouth again, she sucked them eagerly—desperate, needy, completely wrecked.

Giselle leaned up and kissed her cheek, soft and slow.

“That’s our baby.”

And this time?

Ningning didn’t protest.

She was crying now.

Not sobbing. Not afraid. Just… shaking with the need. Her cheeks were wet, lips swollen, arms stretched taut against the cuffs above her head. Her body had given up. Her pride was gone. The brat? Buried under sweat, spit, and surrender.

I cupped her jaw and tilted her face toward mine.

“Say it again.”

Her voice was barely there. A rasp soaked in tears and desperation.

“I belong to you…”

“To who?”

She swallowed. “You. Mylo. Giselle. Yours—fuck, I’m yours—”

Giselle kissed the inside of her knee.

“Good girl.”

Her legs fell open wider without us even asking. Her eyes flicked from me to Giselle to the space between her thighs, like she didn’t know what she wanted first—just that she needed it.

“Let her have it,” Giselle said, crawling up beside me. “She earned it.”

“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing one knuckle against Ningning’s oversensitive clit. “Feels like we should make her say it one more time.”

She gasped.

“I’ll say anything,” she breathed. “Please—I’ll say anything—do anything—”

I slid two fingers inside her and watched her whole body seize up.

“Anything?” I asked.

“Yes! Please—I—I need to—please—I can’t take—”

I added a third finger.

She screamed. Her hips lifted off the bed, her cuffs rattling hard enough to shake the headboard. Giselle sucked on her nipple, tongue flicking fast. “Come for us, baby.” she whispered.

And Ningning broke. Hard.

Her orgasm ripped through her like lightning—violent and loud and devastating. Her back arched. Her mouth dropped open. And the sound she made? It didn’t even sound human.

“AAHHH—fuhhh—MYYLO—fuckfuckfuck—I’M CUMMING—!”

Her pussy clamped down on my fingers like she never wanted them to leave. She was twitching, shaking, gasping—eyes wild, legs kicking.

And it didn’t stop. Because I didn’t stop. Neither did Giselle. We forced it to keep going. Over and over.

Every time her voice cracked, I curled my fingers deeper. Every time her thighs locked, Giselle dragged her tongue up the inside of one. Every time she cried out, we gave her more.

Until she was nothing but sound and wetness and broken moans.

Until she was limp in the cuffs, eyes glassy, mouth slack.

Until she whispered it on her own—no prompting, no order.

“I’m yours,” she breathed, again and again. “Yours… yours… yours…”

And we believed her.

Because now?

She knew.

The only sound in the room was Ningning’s breathing—broken, shallow, too light for someone who’d just screamed her voice raw.

She hadn’t moved.

Her body was slack, arms still stretched from the cuffs, wrists pink. The defiance that had burned in her just minutes ago had vanished, drained out through her skin along with everything else. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t look at either of us.

I didn’t wait.

I got up first. Found a fresh towel, ran warm water from the bathroom sink. I soaked it, wrung it out. The mirror caught my reflection for a second—hair wrecked, chest rising with the kind of high that comes only from the most intense experiences.

But I wasn’t thinking about myself.

I was already back at the bed, already kneeling beside her.

Ningning flinched slightly when the towel touched her inner thigh.

“Easy,” I said, my voice lower, slower now.

Her eyes opened—barely. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

She blinked, trying to focus. “I feel…”

“Overloaded,” I said. “Yeah. I’ve got you.”

Giselle watched from the other side, head propped in her hand, gaze soft but quiet now. She didn’t move to interfere.

I ran the towel between Ningning’s legs, gentle, careful, like I was wiping away more than just the mess. Her breath hitched. Not from pain. From… whatever was settling in her now. She turned her face toward the sheets and let me keep going.

“Let me see your wrists.”

She hesitated. Then raised them.

Pink. A little red. No welts, no breaks. Just pressure marks. I kissed each one without thinking, then rubbed my thumbs in slow circles over the skin.

“You okay?”

Her throat worked. “I think I left my body.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I noticed.”

She made a small noise—not quite a laugh. Then: “I wasn’t expecting… all that.”

“You didn’t have to be. We were watching you.”

“I liked it.”

“I know,” I said, brushing her hair back from her damp forehead. “That’s why we did it.��

Her lashes fluttered. She looked tired. Glowing. Messy and open and real in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“Do you want some water?” I asked.

She nodded.

I helped her sit up, cradling the back of her neck with one hand, slipping the bottle to her lips with the other. She drank slow, eyes on me the whole time.

When she finished, I wiped her mouth and kissed her cheek.

She closed her eyes again and leaned against me.

No words. No bratty lines. No biting.

Just trust.

That weight hit me all at once. She’d let us wreck her. And now she was letting me hold what was left.

Giselle finally moved, pulling a blanket up over Ningning’s legs. She didn’t speak—just rested a hand on her thigh and met my eyes.

You’re doing good, that look said.

I wrapped both arms around Ningning and let her settle into my chest.

“Stay here,” I said. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

And she did.

Ningning was warm against me. Warm and limp, her body curled into my side like she belonged there, her breath still a little shaky. She hadn’t said much since she came down. Just small hums, tiny nods. I kept stroking her hair.

PART 5

#ningning smut #giselle smut #aespa #aespa smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader

710 notes · View notes

kxsagi · 26 days ago

Note

AAAAAAA MAKE NAGI MEET HIS S/O'S PARENTS

“𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞”

a/n: i'm obsessed with BMF by SZA

you warned him. you definitely warned nagi seishiro that your parents were two completely different bosses in the same game level – your mom, who’d probably spoil him within minutes, and your dad, who’d see him as a walking red flag until further notice.

“you sure i can’t just meet them in my sleep?” nagi mutters for the fifth time, dragging his feet up your parents’ porch like you’re dragging him to his final boss battle.

“nope,” you chirp, knocking on the door with fake enthusiasm. “and if you fall asleep during dinner, i will kick you under the table.”

he groans. “unfair.”

the door opens before you can respond, and your mom stands there in all her warm, floral-apron glory, face lighting up the second she sees you, and then really lighting up when her eyes land on nagi.

“oh my gosh,” she gasps, clutching her chest like she just saw a k-drama actor in 4K. “this is him?! this is your boyfriend?!”

“uh… hi,” nagi says, suddenly standing much straighter, blinking slowly like she’s a flashbang in human form.

your mom’s already stepping aside to let you both in, zeroing in on nagi like a hawk. “my goodness, look at you! you’re so tall… and those eyes! and that hair! wow, you’re just… beautiful. what skincare do you use, sweetie?”

“uh… body wash,” nagi replies, deadpan.

you nearly choke.

your mom lets out the most delighted cackle you’ve ever heard. “oh, you’re funny, too. i like him! good taste, sweetheart,” she tells you, squeezing your hand like you just won the lottery.

“thanks,” you say dryly. “wait till dad gets here.”

and speak of the devil. your dad walks in from the backyard just in time to hear the words ‘body wash’ and ‘beautiful’, and you swear you feel the entire atmosphere drop ten degrees.

he doesn’t say anything right away. just crosses his arms over his chest, gives nagi a look, and then slowly says: “so. you’re the soccer boy.”

nagi gulps. “uh… yeah.”

“huh.” your dad narrows his eyes. “can you even support a family on that?”

“dad–” you start, but nagi, bless his soul, answers.

“maybe if we win a lot.”

you slap a hand to your forehead. your mom snorts into her wine glass.

the rest of dinner is like watching nagi play dodgeball blindfolded. your mom keeps gushing over him (“you have to give me your shampoo brand, i’m serious”), offering him second helpings, complimenting his cheekbones like he’s not sitting right there trying not to die. and every time he cracks a lazy, genuine little smile, your mom practically swoons.

your dad, meanwhile, has adopted a job interview tone.

“what are your intentions with my daughter?”

“i dunno. hang out. be cool.”

“what are your five-year plans?”

“… nap.”

“do you know how to change a tire?”

“… no.”

“do you want to learn?”

“not really.”

you can see the vein popping in your dad’s temple. nagi just sips his miso soup like he’s on a beach. when your mom tells him he’s “so chill, like a little kitten,” your dad’s soul visibly exits his body.

after dinner, your dad corners nagi in the hallway like a final interrogation round while your mom helps you clean up.

“i don’t like guys who slack off,” your dad says, low and stern.

“me neither,” nagi replies, deadpan. “they’re annoying.”

your dad stares at him. nagi stares back.

finally, your dad lets out a reluctant grunt. “you’re honest. i’ll give you that.”

when you come back into the room, nagi has a slightly traumatized look on his face and your dad is sipping tea like he didn’t just threaten a man with his eyes.

on the drive back, nagi’s slouched in the passenger seat, staring at the ceiling. “your dad’s intense.”

“he let you live. that’s progress.”

“your mom touched my hair. twice.”

you laugh. “she’s obsessed with you. she said you could model for those korean face mask commercials.”

nagi hums, turning his head to look at you. “maybe i should date her instead.”

you elbow him in the side.

“ow. kidding. you’re cooler. and younger,” he mumbles. “but seriously… your parents are weird.”

“yeah?”

“kinda like you.”

you glance over at him, and he’s smiling – small and tired, but sweet. and something in your chest tugs when he adds, softly: “i think i like them.”

you grin. “good,” you say, grabbing his hand as you drive, “because next time, you’re cooking.”

“what?!”

“yep. dad said he wants to see if you’re ‘useful in the kitchen.’”

nagi groans so dramatically, you’re shocked he doesn’t actually pass out on the spot.

you can’t stop laughing the whole way home.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #young and he fine and he tall and he handsome

422 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 4 months ago

Text

Silas & King Edmund drabbles: stealing their darling during the intermission

Yandere!mafia oc x reader & yandere!king x fem reader

Warnings: chloroform, kidnapping, forced sumbission?

Silas:

The act is being played out right in front of him, the actor's gliding across the stage in their colorful clothes. But he's not watching them. He's watching you. Sitting in the row beneath him, chuckling for yourself every time the actors play a joke. Even in the darkness he can see your shoulders move with every laugh, and he has to restrain from reaching forward and grabbing you.

No. Not yet.

Two minutes left until the break, until everything goes dark and the curtain fall in preperations of act two. But he won't be here to see it. And neither will you.

He nudges his second in command, signaling for him to take out the prepared tools. His second in command takes out a small bottle and removes the handkerchief from his suit jacket. Silas pours the liquid onto the fabric. He waits.

The second the lights go out, he's there, leaning forward, quick as the night, and grabs you. You gasp out before you can scream. He shoves the handkerchief over your face, hoping to aim right in the darkness. Silas can feel you squirm under his hands, your body jerking,

Shh, he wants to whisper, but doesn't want anyone else in the theater hear him. Just let it happen. You're doing so good for me. Just breathe in, just let me have you.

It doesn't take long before it all dies down. Silas doesn't let go of you. One hand remains on your shoulder to make sure you don't fall forward. The other gives back the handkerchief to SIC.

No one sees him move through the darkenss to the row below and pick you up. No one sees him and his second in command leave. No one notices that when act two begins, there are three less people in the audience.

King Edmund:

He watches oh, so closely. His binoculars burned into his eye sockets. You're a delight on stage, someone that he enjoys watching more than anything. He watches everything you do, putting aside more important plans just to watch you.

He's been planning it for a while, a wishful thinking that took root and became a need, he's going to take you tonight. As the curtains fall and you retreat backstage for a little break, he's going to take you. At first he wondered if he should ask you, but what would he do if you deny him? If you rejected him?

No. Better to take you right away. That way you won't be able to hurt his pride. No one rejects him. And you are not going to be the first one.

Two minutes before the curtains fall, Edmund moves quickly from the royal balcony, two guards with him. He sneaks backstage and watch how the curtains fall from the inside, seeing you stand in front of them for a few seconds, catching your breath. That's when he does it. He runs forward, grabbing you. One hand on your waist, pressing you to him, the other over your mouth, muffling your screams.

But you can't fight him forever. You're already exhausted from the two hour performance, you barely have any energy left. He feels prideful when you no longer have the energy to fight him, becoming submissive in his suffocating hold. As you should.

"That's it", Edmund whispers in your ear as your body starts to calm down. "That's a good girl. There's no use in fighting me. You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you. Let's get you where you belong."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere king

716 notes · View notes

onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 2 months ago

Text

Just Desserts - Chapter 1 (Sanji x Fem!Reader)

PHEW - I'm tired. I've been trying to work on this for weeks. One of those things where I started it as a smaller idea and it just kind of exploded, and then I was overthinking. I'm only planning two chapters for this, but it could expand into more.

Summary: Sanji left without so much as a goodbye. You've had to pick up the pieces, to have faith in your crew who've gone off to Whole Cake to retrieve him. It's not easy dealing with the loneliness, especially in a new and strange land like Wano.

CW: JEALOUSY; NSFW (fingers, light smut, heavy petting); Hurt/Comfort; Angst; (Heavier/full smut planned in Part 2); Established relationship

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

~4.7k

In the time that Sanji had been gone for Whole Cake, you had been left behind in Zou to travel onward to Wano, much to your disappointment. You wanted to come more than anything - of course you did. Sanji was your everything, your entire world - the oceans would cease their tides and the stars would halt their sparkling without him in your life. You insisted - really, begged - for Luffy to bring you with him. While he was fine with it, Nami had pulled you aside to convince you otherwise.

”If you come with us, all you’ll do is worry Sanji sick over your safety.”

“But I could convince him to come back.” You pleaded, your eyes prickling with tears and voice thick with emotion. “I can—“

”Sanji will come back.” Nami smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear gently. “He will. And he’ll do it without worrying about you. Okay? Just let us handle it.”

You knew Nami was right. Not only would it be hard on Sanji to know you were fighting with your life on the line to bring him home, but the stakes alone would be enough to distract you. If you went off to Whole Cake - an Emperor’s territory otherwise unprovoked - there was no guarantee you wouldn’t throw your life away just to save Sanji from whatever fate he held so close to his chest. Nami knew that as well as you did. Whatever Sanji was going through, you’d have to trust in Luffy to snap him out of it. So, despite your reservations, you stuck with the rest of the crew to make the journey to Wano.

The sun had all but lost its warmth, and even the funniest jokes Usopp or Franky could provide did little to help. You’d smile, you’d laugh, but it’d only go as far as your lips, not lighting your eyes up in the way the crew had become familiar with. Eventually, you stopped laughing and smiling altogether. Robin had taken note of the way you kept your distance even in shared spaces, and if it weren’t for how quietly you cried yourself to sleep at night, she’d have stepped in herself to ask about how you were handling being separated from Sanji. You had made it clear that the topic was off-limits. Even just the mention of Sanji’s name would shut you down, so the crew found it prudent to give you the space to deal with it the way you saw fit.

Zoro didn’t have as much tact.

You were leaning against the cool wall of the Polar Tang, your eyes locked on the ocean that passed by a porthole. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for the Heart Pirate’s hospitality or dreading the fact that this meant you’d have to be miles below the surface until arriving at Wano. As romantically vain as it felt, not being able to see the same moon as Sanji only made things worse, and you were sure it wasn’t doing any favors for your mood. While you were lost in thought, reminiscing on memories you knew weren’t good for you, the swordsman took his place next to you against the wall. Your eyes were trained on a large school of fish swimming past the porthole, but you could see his large frame perched next to yours in the reflection of the glass.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. Until your crewmate finally opened his mouth.

”Thinking about curly brows, huh?”

Great. An emotional conversation with Zoro was rare, and when they happened, they were never fun. You weren’t in the mood to talk about Sanji, much less talk to Zoro about Sanji. Of all people, this seemed like the worst one to finally address the elephant in the room.

“You don’t have to-“

”Captain told me to look after everyone.” Zoro interrupted you, his tone gruff and leaving no room for argument. “It’s obviously bothering you. You’re not fooling anyone..”

You let out a huff at his words, trying to abate the indignation settling in your chest. You opened your mouth to argue that you weren’t trying to fool anyone, but your mouth shut almost immediately. Zoro’s stubborn nature and dedication to Luffy was going to draw some stupid, emotional things out of you that you really had been working to push down. You cast a sidelong glance at him before returning your eyes to the porthole. You didn’t respond, because there was nothing to say. Zoro didn’t speak, either. The two of you just sat in silence, until eventually you left your spot and the swordsman went his own way.

After that point, you noticed how Zoro would almost…hover. It was unlike him. You’d go to the galley, he’d take a seat next to you; you’d try to distract yourself with reading, and he’d somehow find his way in the same room as you, cleaning his blades or taking a nap against a wall. Nothing was ever exchanged, and while you were sure it wasn’t a coincidence of a small ship and a larger-than-usual crew aboard, you refused to acknowledge it. Acknowledgment meant confrontation, and confrontation meant the potential to have your lofty mourning period interrupted.

The final straw was when you volunteered to do some tasks for Law around the ship, and Zoro had met you every step of the way. He had outright refused chores up until this point, so all subtlety of his following you had clearly gone out the porthole. You couldn't even pretend to ignore it anymore, because it was so irritatingly obvious. You were working on stocking some kind of cabinet with gauze and bandages when you heard Zoro enter the room, the clacking of his swords on his hip snapping any sort of patience you had maintained. An aggravated groan escaped your lips as he approached the bin of supplies next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

”What is with you?” You snapped, turning to look at Zoro with a searing glare.

The swordsman didn’t bother meeting your eyes, instead busying himself with putting away the packets of gauze. Rather sloppily, too. He was basically just tossing them into the drawers with a flick of his wrist and no care for where they landed.

”You keep avoiding everyone and moping around, and I’m not going to let you.” He replied.

He made it sound so…so simple. Like there wasn’t even a second thought behind it. For some reason, that kind of compassion set you off. Wasn’t it clear that you just wanted to be left alone? To grieve the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t here, could quite possibly never come back, and lament that you didn’t tag along to save him? You grit your teeth, snatching the gauze from him that he so haphazardly put away.

”Well, if you’re going to stalk me, at least do the damn chores you volunteer for properly.” You retorted, shoving the gauze into the drawers with more care than he had. “I don’t need a babysitter. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Zoro huffed, and you could tell he was annoyed. Good. Maybe he’d leave you alone.

He took a few steps back, leaning against a nearby desk as he watched you put away the rest of the gauze and bandages. Zoro didn’t bother disrupting your process. You seemed like you had it handled.

”I’m not going to hear the end of it from either my Captain or that shit cook if they come back and you’re a wreck.” He finally said, his hands resting on the hilts of his swords casually. “Talk about it, don’t talk about it - I don’t care. But you’re not going to isolate yourself from the crew.”

You were almost touched - almost - but that familiar pang in your chest rose up at the mention of Sanji. You were just grateful that Zoro never invoked his proper name, avoiding it like the plague the way he usually did. So, neither of you said anything after that, either. When the rest of the chores were finished, and you both walked through the halls of the sub, that’s when Zoro finally spoke up again.

”Wanna see about getting a drink?”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Days that passed like molasses slowly started to feel less syrupy and more fluid. Jokes landed a little harder with you, and the swordsman took great care to make sure that smile reached your eyes. Franky and Usopp shared stories, Robin made morbid comments, and everything started feeling just a little more colorful again. Even when it was just you and Zoro sitting at a table, making idle chit-chat or opting to sit in comfortable silence, you realized his stable presence made you feel less lonely. Your crewmates were breathing some hope back into you.

The last night on the ship, before entering Wano, you and Zoro had another night like this. Sitting in the galley, with your face resting on your palm as you read a book. He was sharpening his swords, the shing of the blades a sound that triggered a disheartening nostalgia. Reminders of being on the Thousand Sunny, sitting in the grass as Sanji served you and the other ladies tea permeated your brain. The rhythmic sound of stone clashing with blade would have been a welcome ambiance to your book if not for this. Your eyes trailed over the same text again and again, hoping to comprehend anything other than the stakes of what lie ahead. Tomorrow would mean entering a new country, an Emperor’s territory, and there was still no word on how Sanji and the others were doing. The only one likely as antsy as you was probably Zoro, but a face of carefully composed stoicism left you uncertain. It wasn’t until you were shutting your book for the night, giving up on the idea of reading when your brain couldn’t focus, that he finally let it slip.

”He’s coming back. You know that, right?”

It was the first time he’d tried talking to you about Sanji since you reluctantly accepted his presence nearly a week ago. You paused, your fingers trailing the edge of your book as you worked to bite back the tension in your gut.

”Of course I do.” You replied, and maybe you sounded too defensive, because Zoro huffed in response.

”Yeah. Right.”

You stared at him, distracted partially by the hypnotic way his hand sent the whetstone across the honed edge of Wado Ichimonji. It wasn’t a good enough distraction, though, because in its reflection you could swear you caught a glimpse of a blonde tuft of hair. It reminded you of the last time you saw Sanji - back in Dressrosa, before the crew had split off. Longer ago than you’d care to dwell on. You took a deep breath, your eyes studying the etchings of Zoro’s swords and the way they glistened with their new coating.

”They all are.” You affirmed, a feeble attempt to sound more confident. “Soon.”

”Yeah.”

It’s another stiff silence filled with a distinct discomfort that you weren’t sure what to make of. Conversations with Zoro these days always felt unfinished. It felt as though there were things left unspoken, thoughts neither of you dared to share, and it was difficult to decide if that had more to do with your desire to avoid the topic or Zoro’s. Emotional vulnerability was not something you thought the swordsman wanted any part in. It was growing increasingly clear to you, though, that Zoro felt the same concern for the crew as you did. Likely for different reasons. It'd be a cold day in Hell if you ever got the bastard to admit he was worried about Sanji.

As you stood from the table, Zoro halted his movements on his blades, his head snapping in your direction.

“Wait a sec.” He said, and he moved to grab at the bandana around his arm. Before you could say anything, he undid the tie and held it out to you. “Here. Want you to have this.”

You furrowed your brows, gaze flickering between the piece of cloth and the swordsman. Your fingers reluctantly touched the fabric as your hand reached out. It was softer than you’d thought, the fabric cool to the touch and shiny. It wasn’t lost on you how important this one piece of clothing was to Zoro. It decorated his head with every big battle, a jolly roger in its own right. It was the flag of death for any of his enemies. A symbol of his strength, focus, and dedication as a swordsman. Your hand twitched with indecision, but before you could reject it Zoro had firmly shoved the bandana the rest of the way into your grasp.

”We’ll probably get separated in Wano. Being undercover in the Flower Capital is fine and all, but knowing us, somethin’s gonna happen.” He stated, and his eye was trained on you, as if reading you closely. “I’m gonna want that back, so don’t lose it.”

Looking at the bandana, all words died in your throat. What the hell do you even say to something like that? It was a kind gesture, more thoughtful than you’d expected from Zoro, and all you could wonder was why? Was he so concerned about your well-being that he wanted you to have a reminder of the crew? Of his friendship? It was hard to decide what to do or say, but after a few moments, you closed your fingers around the bandana.

“Thanks.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

The Flower Capital was more vibrant than you had anticipated, but most mornings, the colors still fell flat and the chirping of the birds were off-key. You understood now more than before why Zoro had worked so hard to make sure you weren’t isolated from the crew on your journey to the island. Aside from the few moments you could all safely convene or visit one-another, giving small waves and smiles passing by, you couldn’t spend time with them. Not without blowing your covers, and not without a good reason. Without your crew, and without Sanji, you were feeling more empty and numb than ever. A void had gradually opened up in your chest, and if you let your mind wander too far into memories, it threatened to swallow you whole.

In idle moments between you doing your assigned job in the Capital, learning to sew so you could fulfill your role as a seamstress, your fingers would fiddle mindlessly with the bandana Zoro had loaned you. It adorned the obi of your yukata, a hole that you had poked at the bottom so you could pull the fabric through and tie it into a small knot. It wasn’t proper, hardly even looked decent when you caught a glimpse in the mirror, but you didn’t care. It made you feel connected to your crew again - a physical reminder of the bond your friends shared with you and that things would go back to normal soon. Normal couldn’t come soon enough.

Time was passing slower than it had on the first leg of the journey here. It felt like all you could do was wait. Work on clothes for the nobles, pretend like you had an inkling of what you were doing, and try your best not to think about the way your boyfriend smiled so carefree the last time you had seen him. It felt like a special kind of torture that your brain had concocted to make things worse. Laughs that sounded too much like his trilled in your ears, food that you were sure he’d make better burned your palette. Everything reminded you of him, and when you’d wake up in a cold and lonely bed, your fingers would fidget with the bandana like a lifeline. You were certain you’d rub a hole in the fabric by the time you gave it back to Zoro.

It was sometimes in these idle moments that memories of your boyfriend would invade your most private thoughts. Lying on your futon, your hands would wander, eyes shut as you tried to picture Sanji’s hands in place of your own. Guiding them over your yukata, you’d work it off in the way you imagined he’d do it, sometimes slipping under the fabric and exploring the skin. You’d touch over your clit the way Sanji would, moaning his name as if maybe doing so would summon him. Fingers would invade your slit, and you’d taste yourself the way you knew he’d insist. Mornings when your hands would accidentally brush Zoro’s bandana would leave a pit in your stomach after the act was said and done. It always left an odd feeling of awkwardness at you having unwillingly involved it in your fantasies. It was an incident that occurred few and far between, but enough to leave that unsettling feeling. What would Sanji say? What would Zoro say? Not only would it have a hole in it, but the damn bandana would be washed thoroughly when it was returned. Of that, you were sure.

Too much had happened in such a short amount of time, and that short amount of time felt like an eternity. You forced yourself into a routine, something to keep anything semblance of sanity in this separation from your crew. Wake up, get coffee, go to work, try to earn the trust of the royal seamstress, go home, sleep. Intel collection wasn’t going as well as you had hoped, so there was no proper way to keep your mind occupied. The local gossip the other seamstresses shared was of no interest, and even the morning news did little to help.

One particular morning, about two weeks into your stay in Wano, you had managed to sneak away to the coffee stand on your break from work. The streets were buzzing, teeming with the same gossip you could hardly focus on for more than a few seconds. It wasn't until you had the morning newspaper pass by your eyesight, seeing the familiar face of your captain, that you felt your heart clench. Panicked, you let out a gasp and grabbed at a newspaper so you could look for yourself, earning a glare from the woman you snatched it from. An article about Luffy’s arrest, and a wanted poster with Zoro's face crudely drawn. Luffy’s arrest. Your heart had never simultaneously jumped and crashed so hard at the same time. If Luffy was here, what of Sanji? No chance that he’d have returned without their cook. It was a conflicting set of circumstances, bittersweet, because you couldn’t think of seeing Luffy’s face in the news as anything but a bad omen for the mission. Your Captain, who you adored and swore yourself to, in danger. Zoro, your friend, wanted for crimes you were sure he didn’t commit. And what of Sanji? The others?

Wandering through the streets of the Flower Capital gripping the cup of your coffee tightly in your palm, your mind was swirling with too many thoughts. They all lingered on your crew - Luffy and Zoro’s safety, Sanji’s return, what this meant fighting against Kaidou. Your head was aching, full of growing concern, and you were only snapped out of it when you felt a hand land on your shoulder.

"What-?"

The moment you turned your head, everything in your body buzzed with an energy you couldn’t quite place.

Sanji.

Your heart was in your stomach which twisted and lept, and you just stared at him in disbelief. You blinked, and you blinked again, and the apparition didn’t dissipate. Sanji’s hand rested on your shoulder, and the warmth of his touch was enough to assure you that this wasn’t a dream. He was here. Tears streaked down your cheeks and, before you could stop yourself, your arms wrapped around his waist and coffee splashed down into the street below. Face buried in his chest as you clutched onto him like he was a ghost. You couldn’t control the way your hands trembled and your body ached for him, scared that he’d disappear again, and this time for good. Cover be damned - you were sure that if you let him slip from your grasp this time, he’d vanish as suddenly as he had before.

”Hey, hey - it’s okay!” Sanji replied immediately, his arms enveloping you in return. You cried against him, and it was all he could do to rub your back and rest his chin against the top of your head. “I’m sorry I left. I’m here now.”

”You-“ You choked out, wanting to say so many things, but they wouldn’t leave your mouth. You wanted to curse, to shake him, to let him know how angry you were for worrying you sick. Instead, your arms tightened, and a sob broke through you.

“Angel…” He sighed, and you swore you could hear his voice crack.

He held you like this for longer than probably appropriate on the busy streets of the Capital. When you finally stopped crying, your body shaking from the adrenaline pumping through you, he slowly pulled your arms back so he could look at you. As your eyes met, his lips curled into a soft smile, and he reached a hand so his thumb could wipe any stray tears on your face. You had expected a lot of reactions from Sanji upon your reunion. Daydreamed them, in fact. His usual, dorky excitement wasn’t present like you thought it’d be, though. Instead, his eyes looked haunted, an unmistakable flash of guilt present and unshakeable. You leaned your cheek against his palm, a silent signal that you were happy to see him again.

“Let’s go somewhere private.” He murmured.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

It was a short walk to the quarters you had been staying in from where Sanji found you. Your hands couldn’t stop shaking, fidgeting with the piece of fabric at your waist. Your other hand clung to Sanji’s with laced fingers in hopes that it would chain him to your side a little while longer. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d have with him given the operation going on in Wano, but any time was good enough for now. It would have to be.

“The head seamstress in the Flower Capital was gracious enough to give me a room,” You explained to Sanji, carefully selecting your words. “It’s got everything I could need. A kotatsu, a futon, a window. I’ve been spending most of my time there when I’m not working.”

Sanji didn’t say anything. It was unlike him, being so silent as he walked beside you. It didn’t feel like your boyfriend, but you elected to keep that observation to yourself. All questions and concerns would have to wait. The horrors of Whole Cake wasn’t something either of you would likely feel keen diving into over a cup of spilled coffee in the streets of enemy territory. You noticed as you walked with Sanji through the barracks of fellow seamstress’ the women that were present giving you sidelong glances. Knowing smiles and half-lidded eyes between Sanji and yourself. It would be annoying if not for the fact that it was maybe better for them to think this was just a gentleman caller rather than some kind of ally. The thought still made your blood pressure spike just a bit.

The sliding door to your quarters finally closed with a click, leaving you and Sanji in the morning light bathing the interior. Even then you didn’t let go of his hand. You guided him to the futon, taking a seat on the edge and tucking your legs under. Fabric from your yukata splayed out, floral patterns glittering in the sun and catching the eye of the cook. All you could focus on was the way his face looked exactly the way you remembered it.

Silence. This wasn’t right. This was far from the norm. Your fingers flexed slightly against his, and just as you were about to feel your heart palpitate, his thumb rubbed against the skin of your hand. It soothed the coming ache immediately.

“Sanji-”

“I missed you.” He interrupted, his eyes flickering from your joined hands to your gaze. Lifting his free hand, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear that had spilled from your bun. “I didn’t stop thinking about you, angel. Not for one second. Not once.”

You swallowed back the swell of emotion caught in your throat. It bobbed, and you were sure your eyes were glassy. Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head.

“Me neither.”

Sanji shifted closer, his hand not leaving your skin. His fingertips lightly brushed against your flesh, as if testing it for himself, checking to make sure it was real. It lingered, his expression softening as his gaze flickered over your face. There was a fondness there that you had grown to recognize, come to miss, and it made the ache in your chest hurt even deeper. Sanji’s thumb brushed away a tear that you hadn’t even realized was threatening to spill, his lips parting slightly at the sight.

Silence again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sanji’s lips hovered near yours, brushing and threatening to press into them. Your breath hitched in your throat, your lashes colliding gently with his when your eyes fluttered shut. When his lips finally captured yours, gently latching and caressing, the dam that had been barely holding together finally broke loose. Your fingers finally unlaced from his, but it was so that they could grab onto the back of his neck. Sanji’s hands landed on your hips as you moved to straddle his waist, a kiss full of lips and tongue overwhelming in its desperation and greed.

His hands on your hips guided you steadily, rocking your body down and against his. Even through your yukata, the way Sanji ran his hand over your thigh and waist made goosebumps rise on your skin. A moan into your mouth told you that he was just as affected, though grinding onto his hardening cock would have done just as well. His fingers ran over your curves, dipping into the overlapping fabric of your yukata, intent on pulling it apart.

“Sorry…” Sanji gasped into your mouth between kisses. “Sorry, I'm sorry…”

You shushed him, your hands running down his shoulders and chest as you continued to grind against him. The heat was overbearing, and his lips trailed down from your mouth to latch against your neck. He sucked the spot beneath your ear in the way that you had been left to only dream about these past few weeks. He was savoring your skin, reminding himself of the underlying flavors of your flesh and sweat. With a groan, he turned you onto your back to hover over you. Your back landed against the soft material of the futon, all the while your boyfriend's lips didn't let up their assault on your neck. His cock grinded down against you, his hands worshipping and gliding over your body.

You whimpered his name, and he groaned again in response, whimpering yours in return. His hand traveled down and crept up your yukata, his other hand pushing your thighs apart. You shuddered beneath his touch, entirely too gentle and too warm for what you had been waiting for. Calloused fingertips inched their way to the junction between your thighs, testing the feeling of your already slick folds against your panties. Pushing them aside, they dove further, eliciting a breathless moan from your lips.

“Missed this…I’ll never leave again, I’ll-”

Sanji paused, his fingers still poised against your clit. His other hand had crept up your yukata, landing on the unfamiliar material that poked through the hole you’d created. His curly brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, though you couldn’t tell from the way his face was still buried in your neck. His breath felt hot against you, the only indication of the way his breathing had become shaky. Your hands grasped at him, almost pleading.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You whispered, but he didn’t respond.

“We need to talk.” He said, quiet and…detached.

Not verbally, anyway. His fingers moved away from your aching center, his nose brushing against your neck for a moment, just inhaling the scent he had missed so much. Your heart ached the moment he pulled away from your body, eyes landing on your obi. No, not your obi - the bandana that adorned it. The air was thick, weighed down by the need that ripped through you both, the love that you shared, and the clear betrayal that glittered in Sanji’s gaze. Wordlessly, he sat up on your futon, hair still mussed from your fingers.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

#one piece #op #black leg sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji x you #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece smut #sanji smut #sanji angst #sanji x reader angst #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic

412 notes · View notes

finelinemia · 20 days ago

Text

SIMON’S DAUGHTER

harry styles x reader 🐇 smut !

summary: The tension between Harry Styles and Simon Cowell's daughter has been there ever since they met. For one reason or another, they've never been able to reach an agreement. Her father had forbidden her from being with anyone in the band, and she even had a boyfriend, but could Harry change that?

word count: 3.3k

cw: smut, cheating, masturbation, penetration, dirty talk, oral sex

author’s note: Hiiii, my second smut. It's not as good as Bestfriend's Dad, or at least I'm not proud of how this one turned out, but hey, you guys tell me :(. I think the problem was trying to finish it quickly! But anyway, enjoy reading! 🩷

[longhairharry!]

We head offstage and backstage, and I grab the water bottle a crew member hands me. I take a long swig and place it on a table while I brush my hair out of my face. Everyone quickly starts gathering all their gear because we need to get going as soon as possible. Tomorrow we have a show in another city.

I wipe a towel over my forehead and walk toward my dressing room. I'm all sweaty and need a shower asap. I drop the towel on another table, and as I take off my mic, I meet your eyes. You smile slightly at me, your father is a few steps away, talking to a crew member.

I smile back and walk over to you, putting my hair back in a bun. "Hey cutie, did you come to see the concert?"

I've known you practically since the band formed. You're the daughter of Simon Cowell, our manager, so we've spent a lot of time together. Obviously, Simon has always made it very clear to us that we shouldn't get too close to you and that you were strictly forbidden, which is why nothing has ever happened between us. But yes, it could have happened at any time because we both really like flirting with each other.

"Something like that..." you say, tilting your head slightly, allowing me to see the side of your neck more clearly.

"Something like that?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. "If you don't want to see me, just say so and I'll leave." I joke, getting a chuckle from you.

"No, it's not that... I had plans but... they dumped me and I had to come get my dad's car keys to go home... But I liked the concert, you sound better every time" you smile, biting your lip slightly, you know very well what you're doing.

"Who dared to leave Y/N Cowell?" I asked, putting the microphone aside.

I watch as you look away and sigh lightly as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. "My boyfriend..."

That makes me frown "I thought you broke up."

"And that's how it was, but we got back together a few weeks ago..." you say this quite embarrassed, and I'm not surprised, with a boyfriend as stupid as yours I'd be embarrassed too.

"Well, it's his loss," I say, trying to cheer you up, and you give me a small smile. "If you're not in a hurry to go home... the boys are probably in the common room. Wanna join us?"

You look at your father, who gives us a small warning look while continuing to talk to the sound producer. He's known the tension between you and me for years and probably doesn't like you coming with me.

"Sure, but just for a little while. I'm tired and could use a bath..." you mumble.

"Tell me about it, I think even the fans can smell me from outside," I say, giving my armpit a quick sniff.

"You really do smell bad," you say, laughing as we walk together toward the common area.

"Oh look at her, quite the comedian we have here."

The walk to the common room was anything but awkward. I guess over the years we'd forged something close to friendship. Well, as close to a friendship as two people who are as attracted to each other as you and I can be. But the fact that you're Simon's daughter and also have a boyfriend kind of messes things up. Not that I mind in the slightest. I can't count on two hands the number of times I've imagined what it would be like to have my cock in your mouth. I'm pretty sure you suck it like crazy. But you want to be the good girl who's faithful to her boyfriend.

I open the door for you, giving you a slight nod to let you in. You give me a smile and walk into the room, taking in everything as you go. It's a private area for the band, with a few couches and tables with food. The guys are sprawled out on the couch, but they lift their heads to look at us.

"Oh! Simon Cowell's weakness!" Niall says with a half smile. "What brings you to our chambers, y/n?"

"What's wrong? Can't I just come see you?" you say, letting out a small laugh.

"It's unlike you." Louis chimes in as he pulls rolling papers and a small metal box out of his pocket. "Tell us your secret."

You turn your head to look at me and then back at the guys. It's obvious you want to tell us, but at the same time, you don't. I know you're embarrassed by the number of times you've had to tell us about the things your boyfriend does wrong, and yet you're still with him. But at some point, we don't bother telling you that you should break up with him.

"She was out partying with some friends and was feeling a little sick, so she came to get her dad's car keys so she could go home." I help you out of the situation, and you give me a grateful look. "I invited her to hang out with us, until Simon finishes organizing some things. If you don't mind."

"Oh, you're very welcome, y/n." Liam says, making room for you on the couch.

"Yeah, especially for Harry." Louis says, smirking.

"Has the joint taken enough of your brain cells?" I ask, waiting for you to sit down in the spot Liam left for you, and I sit down next to you.

"Not yet, but give me a few minutes and I might even forget the screams of the girl you had in your room last night." Louis says as he takes the ball between his fingers and begins to shape it.

The whole room falls silent, and I notice you shifting uncomfortably next to me. We're nothing, and I don't owe you any respect, but if anything could have happened between us, Louis just screwed it up.

"Louis, as if you wouldn't bring any girl into your room," I hear you say, and I look at you in surprise. Are you trying to downplay the whole thing? I'm dreaming? "Besides, if that girl was screaming so much, it's probably because Harry was doing it really well."

The room falls silent once more, but this time it is not an awkward silence, but a silence that waits to find out what the next move will be.

"Actually, I was doing pretty well," I say, looking directly at you, our thighs touching, the tension rising.

"Oh... really? Did she tell you?" you ask, tilting your head.

I nod. "That's right, but believe me, I didn't need her to tell me that. The way her eyes rolled into their sockets told me everything."

I notice you swallow a little while you don't take your eyes off me. I wish I knew what's going on in that little head of yours.

"How do you know she wasn't faking?" you mutter.

"Because girls' legs shake when they're fucked really, really well, and she could barely stand," I also say muttering.

"For God's sake, can we change the subject before these two fuck in front of us?" Louis asks, his gaze never leaving his little creation.

The boys go back to talking about their own things, but my gaze never leaves yours. Our eyes are locked on each other. Whenever we get to this point, you're always the first to look away, never wanting anything else to happen. But this time, you don't turn your head, you don't look down at your hands; you're still completely fixed on my eyes. Is this when I should take the step I've been waiting to take since we met?

Without thinking twice I approach your ear, making sure that the boys continue with their things and attentive to the joint that Louis has finally finished rolling, and I whisper to you "Five minutes with me in my dressing room and I can make you forget about that idiot of a boyfriend you have."

You bite your lip and move your head slightly to meet my eyes again. Your gaze betrays you, and so do your rosy cheeks. I look down at your lips, your teeth still holding the bottom one. I raise my gaze again, waiting for an answer, and that's when you nod slightly.

I've been waiting for this moment since we first spoke. You've always played hard to get, the one who didn't want anything, but I'm finally going to show you why you should have said yes a long time ago.

I clear my throat and stand, offering my hand for you to stand up as well. "I'm going to walk Y/N to Simon. See you later on the tour bus, okay guys?" I don't even let them say goodbye; I'm already pushing you out the door.

I take your hand and intertwine my fingers with yours, leading you through the halls to the dressing room. I ignore the crew members who stop to stare at us, continuing forward as if we're being chased by a fucking serial killer.

I open the door and pull you in, closing it behind me, and I watch as you stare at the handle. "What's wrong...?"

"There's no lock?" you ask, looking up at me.

My gaze flicks from the knob to you and back again. "Uh... no, but I don't think it'll be a problem either. No one comes in here except me."

You're still not entirely convinced, and your gaze drops to your hands. You let out a sigh and look around the room. I guess your biggest fear right now is someone coming in here and catching us doing things we shouldn't, and I really want to fuck you, so I have to give you a boost of confidence.

"Hey..." I take your hand and pull you towards me "if you're not comfortable we don't have to do it... but I swear no one comes in here, it's just you and me, hm?" I run my gaze up and down your body "But I can't hold back the urge to have my cock inside you, so the sooner you decide, the better..." I say smiling.

I can feel the smile forming on your face and your mind starting to change. You look around the room again, your gaze falling on the couch. "I hope you're right and no one comes in here... Because... I'm very loud, and if what you're saying about you in bed is true... my screams will be heard all the way across the street."

A sound escapes from the depths of my throat at that, and you begin to pull me down onto the couch. You sit down and place your hands on my hips, positioning me in front of you. Your gaze rests right in front of the button on my jeans, and I feel my cock starting to get harder and harder.

"First, I'm going to show you what I know to do... and then you show me how you made that girl scream last night, okay?" you ask, looking up at me, and I nod quickly, eagerly anticipating.

Your hands now move to the closure of my pants, unbuttoning them easily and pulling them down at the same time as my boxers. I'm completely exposed to you, but I'm not at all embarrassed. You smile, looking at my cock, and take it in your hand, giving it a small kiss on the tip that makes me shudder.

"Have I been missing this cutie all this time?" you ask as your fingers run up and down my length.

"I've been trying to get you to meet it for a long time..." I murmur, watching you play with her.

"Don't worry, today we're going to get to know each other really well... in fact, I think we're going to get along..."

Without taking your eyes off me for a second, you run your tongue from the bottom of my cock to the top, then slide it all the way into your mouth. I moan as I feel you covering me completely. Damn, that's some serious deep throat for such a small body.

You start sucking, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. With your tongue, you play with the tip, licking it like it's fucking candy. I put my hands on your head, but you soon move them away, letting go of my cock as well.

"No, no. I'm in charge right now. Let me do my job and you just enjoy it." Your hand continues pumping my cock so as not to ruin the moment. "I need a yes from you."

I quickly nod. "Do what you have to do."

I hold onto the back of the couch so as not to disturb you, and you continue with your work. This time, working more with your tongue. You go from bottom to top, all the way to the tip, where you surround it licking it all the way around, and then you insert it all at once. I let out a moan as you start increasing both the speed and the pressure, even gagging a few times.

"Fuck, Y/N, I knew you were a killer blowjob artist," I whisper, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. "Simon Cowell's good girl isn't that good..."

My words make you let out a moan and you move a hand from my hip to my cock, placing it below your mouth and helping you with it to give me more pleasure.

Your mouth and hand move up and down in sync, faster and faster, and I feel like I'm about to cum at any moment. My knuckles turn white as I tighten my grip on the back of the couch. I feel your other hand release my hip, and that's when I look down, and what I see drives me completely crazy.

You've slipped your hand under your skirt and into your panties, rubbing your clit while you continue sucking my cock. Your moans vibrate down my length, adding an extra layer of pleasure to the experience.

"Fuck, y/n..." I twist a hand into your hair. This time, you let me. I help you go faster while you focus on pleasuring yourself. "Where did you learn to do this, hm?" I moan.

An orgasm begins to build inside me, and I move your head faster, this time with my hips, causing me to finally be fucking your mouth. You moan louder and louder, which tells me you're reaching your limit too.

"Oh—fuck." The orgasm hits me hard, and I cum in my mouth, the whitish liquid running from under your lips to your neck. "God..."

I let go of your hair, and you lean back on the couch, swallowing the last bits of me you have. We're silent, the only sounds being our breathing. I look down; my cock is full of cum and drool, ready to be inside you.

"Come on, princess, we're not done yet." I take your hand and lift you up, grabbing your hips and positioning you on your knees on the couch, your arms resting on the armrest. I stand behind you and lift your skirt, my gaze traveling directly to your pussy, hidden by the fabric of your thong. It's so wet I could squeeze juice out of it. "I'm going to show you why that girl screamed so much in my room...”

I move the piece of fabric aside with my fingers and see your pussy for the first time. It's soaked. I slide a finger between your folds and make you shudder. It's effortless to insert it; it melts like butter, and you let out a moan. I start circling it, letting your walls open wider and wider.

"This is just the warm-up, baby." I slip another of my fingers in, not even bothering to take off my rings, and curl them inside you, finding your weak spot. "I want to hear you moan my name, y/n."

"Harry..." you moan softly, and it doesn't seem like enough. I insert a third finger and start moving them faster, pressing harder into your walls and hitting the sweet spot. "Fuck, Harry!" you cry, gripping the armrest.

"Much better... but I still want to hear you scream louder..." I pull my fingers out of you, earning a small groan. I laugh. "Relax, baby, you're going to see fucking stars."

I grab my cock with my right hand while holding your hip with my left. I run the tip through your wet folds and bite my lip. You're so ready for me…

I thrust into you with one thrust, and you let out a strangled cry. I have to hold you so you don't fall. I give you a few moments to adjust, then I begin to move slowly.

"God, Y/N, you're so tight... so hot," I moan. "Why did it take you so long to say yes?"

I rock my hips back and forth, holding yours so you don't move. My pace picks up, the only sounds in the room being our moans and our bodies colliding. I lower one of my hands to your clit and begin rubbing it with my thumb, your moans getting louder. Damn, you really are one of those who likes to scream.

"Faster..." I hear you moan, and my thrusts increase in both speed and intensity. "Fuck, Harry, faster!"

I pull my cock out of your pussy and grab your hips, flipping you over so your back is on the couch. I get on top of you, sliding between your legs and thrusting back in without warning. I lift your legs with my hands and rest them on my shoulders.

"Do you want it faster or harder?" I don't let you answer before grabbing your thighs and thrusting harder into you. Your cries can be heard throughout the arena. "Is that how you like it, huh? You like being fucked hard? I'm sure your boyfriend doesn't make you feel the way you feel with me."

You close your eyes and arch your back. You're close, I can feel it. I move one of my hands back down to your pussy and start rubbing your clit again.

"Tell me, Y/N, I want to hear you say it. Does he make you feel like this?" My pace is increasing. Tomorrow you won't even be able to walk.

"No... no- he doesn't..." you moan. Your hands grip the armrest tightly.

"Who fucks you better, huh?" My thumb pressing harder against your clit. "That little shit or me?"

"You... you! Harry shit! Fuck!" you scream, opening your eyes to look at me again.

Your legs begin to tremble on my shoulders, your walls tighten, your moans grow louder. My rhythm doesn't stop.

"Cum for me, y/n." My breath hitched. "Cum on my cock."

Your back arches again and your head throws back. You're ready, and so am I. I keep pumping inside you until the door opens and I look up in panic.

"Y/n? Are you here?" Simon's voice intercepts my ears and my eyes meet his just as you reach orgasm. His face changes completely when he realizes what's happening.

"Fuck- fuck!" Your body falls exhausted onto the couch as you try to control your breathing. I still haven't been able to tear my eyes away from your father. "are we in trouble...?" you murmur.

"I think I'm not a member of One Direction from today on..." I mutter as the vein in Simon's neck starts to twitch.

If you liked it, give it a like and reblog it so it reaches more people! Thanks 🩷

taglist: @alex-voiddome @harrysguccihandbag @28harryssunflower @curlystyles28 @tpwkbea @coralferrio1 @saratpwk @nevestyles @avensgreenvans @finelineenthusiast @tpwk-keepdriving @vojdcamy13 @laraesnyrry @marzzfly @hailiex @coolgirl2680 @harrymystarr @onedirection-vvvvv @jlovescherry @carolinaastyles @stylessupermqcy @luloveslhh @c4rmen-lo00ver @sogoldenrynryn @flickertiffany @patriwxlls @28keira @kateluvshaz @cherrycherry444 @nikkihs @justsimprry @butdaddyiloveh1m @pops234 @lucycherryberrystyles @merylittlefreak @hareystylesluv @peepsg1rl @eeeeeriiikaaa @averilovesnarry @cloudyybabee @beasolonely @completemessnaye @tillstalks @josieloveshs @mbmmj @fallingwillow @bebopbumblebee @erodasbunnies @hewrhodes @111sofia777

#harry styles #one direction #1d #harry 1d #1direction #harryedwardstyles #harrystylesfanfic #harry fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harrystyles #oneshot #one shot

162 notes · View notes

wildflowersandvibranium · 1 month ago

Text

Elegant Scribbles

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Fiancée!Gender Neutral Reader Summary: While attending a gala with your fiancée Bucky a change of plans allows anxiety to creep in but a messy and quick idea helps the doubt and panic <3

word count: 1.7k ish

warnings/tags: Bucky and you are engaged! angsty feelings but tame , fluffy comfort , mentions of alcohol , brief hydra and brainwashing mentioned, mentions of anxiety , themes of panic attacks I thinkkkkk that’s all

If I missed anything let me know!

author's note: hiiii here’s a tame cute oneshot if our cutie patootie thunderbolts Bucky!!! ty for every comment reblog etc etc 🌷

requests are always open!! 💖

NOT FULLY PROOFREAD

Bucky’s hands began to slightly shake ,with the gala buzzing around him like opening night of a rodeo —

Waves of laughter flowed through the vaulted ceilings , some in hushed tones, others were borderline cackling , martini and champagne glasses clinking together , the polished politicians dressed in power ,

that always made him feel ten sizes too big and about seventy years too late.

The ballroom was lit in soft golds and deep blues , patriotic and pristine , like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on the hour.

His vibranium fingers flexed around your waist , a subtle pressure not rough just there , grounding , like he needed to remind himself that you were still there —

that he was still here. In the twenty-first century. In this life. With you.

Not strapped to a chair , not bound with leather and rust , not staring up at cold metal and blinking lights while electricity carved screams into his throat.

He wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore.

But sometimes, on nights like this , Bucky still felt like a ghost wearing a suit.

You leaned into him , hand warm where it rested on the small of his back.

“You’re doing amazing ,” you whispered, straightening his bowtie that was a little crooked

“A couple more hours then it's just you , me , sweats and room service.”

You smiled sweetly , eyes sparkling with the golden flickers of the chandelier light.

His soft exhale was half a laugh, half a breath of survival.

“It's just… a little loud and… much,” he muttered , gripping more around your waist as if bracing for if you were to try and slip away.

“I know. But they’re just people who think they have it all. We–

you’ve survived worse.” you murmur pecking his bearded cheek

He nodded once, eyes bouncing across the crowd once again.

That’s when the woman approached — sleek, in a black pantsuit with a clipboard tucked to her chest ear piece tucked behind brown ringlets of curled hair , moving too fast , too directly.

“Congressman Barnes,” she said, low and urgent. “We need you onstage.”

He froze. “What?”

“For a toast well a speech,” she said, like it was obvious. “You’re one of our key attendees. The audience would love to hear from you. Just five minutes or so. We’ve got the mic ready. If you walk with me—”

“No,” Bucky said sharply, stepping back. “I wasn’t told—there wasn’t—I'm just here to attend—"

You stepped in immediately. “He wasn’t briefed. This wasn’t part of the invite we received .”

The woman smiled tightly. “We’re all adjusting tonight with Mr. Harris not here tonight. It would mean a great deal—”

You could feel Bucky’s heart thudding through his ribs.

He was spiraling. You saw it in the way his jaw tightened, in how his hand twitched at his side — left eye squinting slightly like it did when the pressure in his head started to build. This was going to push him over the edge if you didn’t anchor him now.

So you grabbed the nearest cocktail napkin and turned, catching a waiter’s attention. As Bucky asked what he needed to say.

“Excuse me? Can I borrow a pen?”

The waiter smiled kindly and handed it over.

You stepped aside with the staff member still rambling to Bucky and scribbled furiously, listening to her words:

“Your time in the service”

“Second chances”

“Hope”

“The public's trust”

“Healing doesn’t happen alone nor overnight”

You quickly scribbled bullet points , easy , direct. Then you boldly wrote last one and underlined it:

Look for me if you get lost. I’m right here you , got this Honey <3

You folded it up , tucking it gently and secretly into the inside pocket of his coat as you slipped your hand around his waist , smoothing the lapel as you did.

Bucky’s eyes were wide as the woman walked off , eyes darting around , anxious.

You reached for his hands. “Hey look at me , it's all going to be okay , you don’t have to be perfect ,” you whispered. “You just have to be you.”

He swallowed hard , fiddling with the ring sitting on your left ring finger , still shining bright even in the dim light. “I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“It always is.” You cupped his face with one hand and pressed a sweet reassuring kiss to his lips , making your way to the stage.

The lights dimmed. Someone was introducing him.

You watched as he walked up the few stairs , jaw clenched, shoulders tight, one trembling hand brushing the inside of his coat.

He almost lost it. Up there on that stage, under too many spotlights, with too many eyes.

He stood behind the podium and everything — everyone — went silent.

The mic screeched to life.

A sea of faces.

Then dizzying darkness.

Just like the chair.

Just like that awful muzzle of a mask.

His temples pulsed. The beginning of a headache.

He gripped the podium like it could hold him together and stared down at the polished wood, at his own warped reflection in the gloss, panic rising in his throat like bile.

Until he looked at you– his last hope of holding himself together in front of the nation's most powerful politicians and their families.

When his palling face met your big eyes he saw you point to his jacket pocket on the right side , as you mouthed “Look inside your pocket” over and over.

His brows furrowed confused then he felt the rustle of paper.

He reached for it with a trembling hand , slowly unfolding the napkin like it was a sacred scroll

And there it was. In your messy but adorable scribbles , bullet points.

•Second chances.

•Hope.

•Healing doesn’t happen alone…

He looked up and found you in the crowd , giving him a smile and thumbs up , mouthing , I’m right here.

He cleared his dry throat and began to speak. It wasn’t perfect. His voice cracked. He stumbled once. But it was real.

People cheered when he finished , a standing ovation rising like thunder in his ears as they clapped and toasted — but all he saw was you.

In the front smiling up at him like he was the most precarious thing. To you he was. You cheered and he blushed slightly, thanking the event for having him as he strutted off the stage.

✩₊˚⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚⋆⁺₊✧

The ride home was quiet. The limo was parked and ready as you two gently climbed in. His hand found yours immediately and didn’t let go the whole way.

When arriving at the hotel the driver opened the door, Bucky slipped out first , then held out his arm for you , as you climbed out heading up to your suit.

Sighing as you pulled off your shoes , feet aching from the rounds of greeting senators and congressmen and women. Bucky , still in his suit. Standing idle. Hair rumpled. The napkin still in his jacket pocket.

He hadn’t relaxed since arriving at the hotel.

You turned to him spinning on the edge of the bed.

“Bucky?” you called out raising your arms inviting him to be at peace with you.

He looked at you like he’d been holding something back for hours. And he had.

He slowly walked to your waiting arms , sinking down next to you on the plush bedding.

“I thought….” He exhaled slowly “...I thought I was gonna lose it ,” he rasped . “Up there. Thought I was gonna black out. Pass out. Or seize up . My mind was screaming at me.”

You closed the space between you fully reaching up, cupping his face. “But you didn’t.”

“I was right there. On the edge.” His eyes were glassy. “But I kept hearing you. Your voice in my head.”

You touched your forehead to his, gently. “I’m always in your head, Barnes–

no escaping me.”

He gave a watery laugh.

“Back then, when they would strap that machine over my face and wipe my mind , the panic i felt after not knowing who i was , what i was , it's terrifying

you know…”

He tapped your thigh silently letting you know he's okay.

“When I was up there my mind went blank , I couldn't remember why I was up here , what I was supposed to say… that feeling of panic just made me spiral , it’s like—like I’m right back. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been.”

You didn’t try to fix it. You didn’t tell him to forget it. You just nodded. Listening.

“I know.”

And then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your mouth that tasted like desperation to get his feelings out and salty with his tears .

He broke the kiss to whisper, “Thank you. Not just for the napkin. For everything, for being my partner in all of this.”

You touched his chest, feeling the dog tags through his pressed dress shirt. “Anytime, Sergeant.”

He smirked faintly. “I think I like the sound of that.” he said laughing lightly

That evening now in sweats and a hoodie , he curled into your side. As you absentmindedly played with his hair. The only light in the room was the gentle flickering and the glow of a rerun of THE OFFICE playing on the tv.

Tonight laying in the warm plush bed.

He didn’t have a flashback–

He didn't worry

He didn't panic , didn’t shake.

He just breathed.

You held him all night , expressing how proud you were of the man in your arms that was now slightly snoring as he dozed off.

You were so proud of him.

Tonight it wasn't pride because of the armies he had fought against ,

not even because of the speech itself

But because he let you in. He was vulnerable. And brave. And for that you are and will always be proud of your supersoldier.

-end

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #writing #wildflowersandvibranium #thunderbolts #new avengers #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #winter soldier #the winter soldier #sam wilson #reader insert #thunderbolts bucky #congressman james buchanan barnes #congressman bucky

189 notes · View notes

heliosunny · 4 months ago

Note

Since I'm feeling really depressed rn, can you make a fyodor x reader but reader is really depressed, like they believe they're ugly, worthless and most importantly easily replaceable, so they always think fyodor will replace them with someone else that's why they always push him away.

- 🐢🐢

It didn’t matter how many times Fyodor whispered your name like a prayer, how often his lips brushed against your knuckles with something almost reverent, you always knew this wouldn’t last.

Because you were disposable too.

And soon, he’d realize that.

That’s why you never let yourself get too close. Never let yourself bask in the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. Someone else, someone better, would come along—someone beautiful, someone worthy.

So you pushed him away.

Tonight was no different.

"Leave" you muttered, staring at the floor, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. "You don't have to waste your time here. I'm sure there’s someone else you'd rather be with."

A silence stretched between you like a noose tightening around your throat. You didn’t dare look up.

"Ah... love" Fyodor murmured. "Again with this nonsense."

"You seem to forget that I do not keep what is easily replaceable."

"I chose you" Fyodor continued, "And I do not make mistakes."

----

The restaurant was dimly lit, the soft hum of conversation filling the space. You stirred your drink, barely listening to the person sitting across from you. You hadn’t wanted to come here, hadn’t wanted to entertain the idea of someone new—but your relatives had insisted.

“You need to put yourself out there” they had said. “He’s a nice person. You deserve someone who makes you happy.”

Happy huh...As if that was even possible for someone like you.

"You're awfully quiet" your date commented, eyeing you with mild disinterest. "I guess I should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the most interesting person, are you?"

It was subtle, the way your fingers tightened around your glass. You forced a small laugh, hoping—praying—that maybe you had misheard. But he only smirked, leaning back in his chair.

"Don't look so offended" he chuckled. "I mean, you’re not ugly, but you're not much to look at either. And you barely talk. No offense, but I don’t get why your relatives were hyping you up so much."

His words sliced through you, sharp and effortless.

You swallowed thickly, your chest tightening as that familiar, suffocating feeling crept in—the one that told you you weren’t good enough, that you never had been.

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was just proof of what you had always known.

You barely tasted your food after that, barely heard anything else he said. The night ended with a cold goodbye, and you found yourself walking aimlessly down the street, arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

You had wanted to escape. Had wanted to run from Fyodor before he could push you aside like this man had done so easily.

But now, standing alone in the quiet of the night, a single, terrifying thought echoed in your mind.

What if he already has?

A soft gust of wind sent a shiver down your spine.

“You wound me, my love."

Slowly, you turned.

Fyodor stood beneath the glow of a streetlamp, the shadows stretching long behind him. He was smiling.

“You left me” Fyodor murmured, taking a slow step forward. “For that?”

You wanted to run, to tell him it wasn’t what he thought. But what did it matter? He was probably planning to leave you anyway.

“I—” Your voice faltered. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Go on,” he urged. “Tell me why you thought this was a good idea.”

The weight of his gaze was unbearable. “I just… I thought…” You swallowed hard. “You were going to replace me.”

"Replace you?" Fyodor echoed, his tone dripping with mockery. "Oh, love… is that what you truly believe?"

He took another step forward, and you stepped back, only for your back to hit the cold brick wall of the alley beside you. Please, anything but confronting him at such moment.

Fyodor was in front of you now, his slender fingers reaching out to tilt your chin up.

“Let me be clear,” he murmured,“There is no one else. There will never be anyone else.”

"And yet, despite my patience… you ran to another man.” Fyodor sighed, almost disappointed. “You let him speak to you like that. Belittle you. Humiliate you.”

“Fyo—”

His grip tightened at your jaw.

“Tell me, do you think he still deserves to speak?”

“Wait—you don’t mean—”

Fyodor chuckled. “Oh, my love… I mean exactly what you think I do.”

---

Fyodor’s apartment was quiet when you arrived, save for the faint sound of a record playing in the background.

After everything, after the cruel words your date had thrown at you, after the way Fyodor had looked at you last night—you couldn’t take it anymore. So you have to come here. Then you would tell him that you had to leave. Before he decided you weren’t worth the trouble.

Your hands trembled as you stood in front of his desk, watching as he carefully set his pen down, his gaze lifting to meet yours.

“What brought you here, love?”

“I—I just came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he echoed, as if tasting the word on his tongue.

You forced yourself to keep speaking, even as your voice wavered. “This… whatever this is. I can’t keep doing this, Fyodor. I—I’m not enough for you, I know that. So before you get bored of me, before you find someone better, I just—”

Fyodor stood, moving around the desk in deliberate, measured steps.

"Before I what, exactly?" he asked, voice like silk laced with steel.

“You—you were going to replace me. I know it. You don’t have to pretend.”

You did a little jump out of surprise, a gasp escaped your lips as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you forward until you stumbled against him.

“You truly are cruel,” Fyodor whispered, his voice sickeningly sweet. “To think so little of me… to try and run from me.”

“F-Fyodor—”

“I, myself, chose you, I know what you're capable of.” he murmured, his fingers trailing up your spine.

You felt dizzy, your body betraying you as you leaned into his warmth despite the suffocating air between you.

"But since you insist on doubting me…" He pulled back slightly, just enough to cup your face, tilting your chin up.

“I suppose I’ll just have to take measures.”

“Measures?”

Before you could say another word, he pulled you forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

“You’ll never leave me again.”

The moment Fyodor’s lips pressed against yours, you felt something—a faint bitterness, seeping into your skin. You barely had time to react before your body suddenly felt… light. Your thoughts, once tangled and suffocating, seemed to quiet, the anxiety that had gripped your chest moments ago fading into something calm.

Fyodor held you steady despite your weaken legs, his hands firm as they guided you into his embrace.

“No more doubts, my dear. No more pushing me away.”

“What… what did you do?”

Fyodor simply smiled, “Just a little something to ease that restless mind of yours.”

“You think too much,… and I simply cannot have that, now can I?”

Your lips parted in protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Your body felt heavy, but your mind—your mind felt so soft, like it was wrapped in cotton.

And Fyodor… he was still there. Still holding you, still looking at you like you were something irreplaceable.

For the first time, you didn’t question it.

You simply let him hold you.

—---

In the days that followed, you found yourself listening to Fyodor more. The creeping paranoia that had once consumed you, the desperate need to push him away, had dulled into something distant, something manageable.

He never let you too far from his sight, and strangely, you didn’t mind. If anything, you found comfort in the way he kept you close, in the way his fingers would idly play with yours when you sat together, his voice a low murmur as he spoke of the world, of people, of the uselessness of those who did not understand.

He never let anyone near him, not unless they were one of the few he trusted. It was proof, he told you, of how selective he was. Of how rare it was to be in his presence.

Of how special you were.

And you believed him.

For the most part.

Until her.

You weren’t sure what it was about the woman named Lila that set something off in you. Maybe it was the way she smiled too sweetly, the way her gaze lingered just a little too long when she spoke to you. Maybe it was the way she inserted herself into your space, into his space, a little too freely.

It made you uncomfortable.

That night, as you sat curled up on the couch, his fingers combing idly through your hair, you hesitated before speaking.

“She…” You swallowed. “She was too close.”

Fyodor hummed, fingers stilling slightly before continuing their slow, rhythmic movements. “Ah. Her.”

You nodded. “I… I didn’t like it.”

A pause. Then, a soft chuckle. “I see.”

You looked up at him, uneasy. “You don’t… you don’t think I’m just being paranoid, do you?”

He tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip.

“No, love,” he murmured. “You are simply learning.”

The next day, she was gone.

And no one ever spoke of her again.

#yandere x reader #yandere #bsd x you #yandere bsd #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #heliosfyodor

241 notes · View notes

allurearia · 1 year ago

Text

Forever yours.

Mattheo riddle x f! Reader

3 times where Mattheo Riddle was a amazing boyfriend

Honestly, I loved pansy with a camera so I'm starting this one out a little similar, but I tried to change it up as much as I could!!

Pansy Parkinson grew up with a love for muggle culture which was usually met with disapproval from her family and society. She despised it ministers and distant relatives always belittling her for her fascination for muggle cameras they thought it was utterly useless, pansy begged to differ. On the night of her 17 birthday some had finally understood her.

Pansy with a book in her hand was kept company by her owl and the faint days of moonlight through the murky windows under the black lake, Millicent, Daphne and Tracey were out doing Merlin knows what when she suddenly looks up to a knock at her door expecting it to be either of the girls.

"Doors open."

"Hello there." A faint voice perks up and pansy spots faint blond hair peeking through the door now revealing blue and bronze robes.

Luna lovegood.

"I was hoping id give this to you at a better moment but i couldn't just wait!" She spoke up in a cheerful voice despite it being almost 12am, she carefully sat down at the edge of the bed with a small box in her hands.

"Alright thanks a bunch loons trust me it means a lot" pansy spoke still a bit sleepy as she put a Bobby pin in the book to mark where she left it off.

As pansy slowly tried to fight off the sleep her eyes widened as she saw the box being unboxed and a muggle camera was revealed

"LOONS WHAT DID YOU SERIOUSL-"

𖦹. °‧. ★. ✮. ‧₊˚

1st time.

Even before you and mattheo had officially gotten together pansy had always taken a liking to you and had always invited you to every girls night she had hosted, you had taken quite a liking to the rest of the slytherin girls, the nights were filled with gossip, laughter and overall just fun you were grateful for each of the girls.

Now that you had started dating Mattheo, things had taken an amusing turn. Mattheo was notoriously clingy, always wanting to be near you. You had adored it but not so much when it led to pansy and him arguing over his constant interruptions.

Pansy had planned another girls' night in her cozy dorm room. The room was scattered with pillows, blankets and everyone's favorite snacks. You, Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent were all seated in a circle, discussing the latest gossip from school. Daphne was in the middle of sharing a particularly juicy incident that had happened yesterday when the door suddenly flew open revealing your boyfriend

Mattheo stood in the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey, ladies," he greeted, trying to sound casual.

Pansy rolled her eyes dramatically. "Mattheo, this is girls' night. You know the rules."

Mattheo walked in anyway, plopping down next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "I know, I know. But I missed my girl," he said, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. "Mattheo, you saw me like two hours ago."

"Two hours too long" he replied, nuzzling into your neck.

Daphne giggled, and Millicent sighed, clearly used to Mattheo’s behavior by now. Pansy just shook her head, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Alright, if you're going to stay, you have to participate," Pansy said, crossing her arms. "No sulking in the corner."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow. "Participate in what?"

“We were just about to start doing each other's makeup!” you chimed in eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mattheos' eyes widened a bit but he quickly composed himself. “makeup huh? Alright then anything to spend more time with my girl”

“Alright then loverboy you're up first!” millicent quickly pulls out the makeup pouch you had set aside. As you get out of mattheo’s arms and start to pick out all the different items you wanted to put on his face he suddenly just lays down on his back.

“What are you doing?” ask’s pansy with daphne and millicent giggling at the sight of your boyfriend being sprawled across pansy’s floor.

“Just getting myself comfortable” replies mattheo you look back already having your tools ready

“Seriously, Mattheo?” you laugh, looking down at him sprawled out on the floor. “You’re not making this easy.” he grins up at you, his hands behind his head.

“I’m just making myself comfortable. You’re the artist, I’m the canvas, do your worst.”

Rolling your eyes, you kneel beside him and begin to set out the makeup. Millicent hovers nearby, eager to see the transformation. You start with the foundation, applying it evenly across Mattheo’s face, trying to ignore the way he keeps making faces at you.

“Hold still, will you?” you scold lightly, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice.

“Can’t help it. Your touch tickles,” he replies, his voice teasing.

As you move on to his eyes, you ask him to close them. He obeys, though not without a dramatic sigh

“He's so dramatic” daphne comments

“I'm right here you know?” he opens his eyes to stare daphne down

“Shut your eyes mattheo” you warn, he obliges

You carefully apply eyeshadow, choosing shades that highlight his striking features. The whole time, he remains surprisingly patient, only making the occasional quip to keep the mood light.

What you hadn't realized was that pansy had gotten up and snuck a photo of you two from the camera her girlfriend had gifted.

(readers physical appearance is not based off the girl in the picture)

𖦹. °‧. ★. ✮. ‧₊˚

2nd time

In the dimly lit dungeons confines of the Slytherin common room, the crackling fire can be heard by the four wizards all whose faces showing boredom, Draco sitting on the large green sofa opposite to the fireplace Blaise at the very end of the same sofa Mattheo on a single emerald armchair and Theodore sitting on the ground with his potions homework in his lap which had been assigned earlier that day.

Draco running his hand through his platinum blonde hair looks down at his friend sitting on the ground by the fireplace "I tell you, Nott, if Professor Slughorn assigns one more essay on the properties of moonseed poison, I might just hex him into next week."

Theodore, his dark eyes glinting with amusement, smirked. "Careful, Malfoy, you wouldn't want to anger the Potion’s Master. You might end up with ears larger than house elfs."

Blaise, lounging lazily with one arm draped over the back of the sofa, chuckled. "Speaking of potions, did you hear about the disaster in Slughorn's class today? Riddle nearly turned his cauldron into a bubbling mess of purple and pink goo."

Mattheo, his curly hair tousled from a day of classes, rolled his eyes. "It was hardly my fault. That blasted potion recipe was more complicated than trying to decipher Parseltongue."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least you didn't end up with a detention like Crabbe and Goyle. They managed to set fire to their desk during Transfiguration."

They all turn their heads as they hear the doors of the common room open, yours, enzo’s and pansy’s voice getting louder and you arrive closer to the common room. Mattheos face immediately lightning up as he spots you.

“I trust we haven't missed too much gentlemen?” Enzo says as he plops down a bag on the table in front of the couch which they assume is from the hogsmeade trip you enzo and pansy has just arrived from. Without waiting for anyone's answer pansy interrupts

Guess what we found at Honeydukes!" she exclaims, pulling out an assortment of colorful sweets. "Fizzing Whizbees, Chocolate Frogs, and Sugar Quills. Plus," she adds with a mischievous grin, "a few bottles of Butterbeer."

Draco's eyes light up at the sight of the treats. "Well, well, well. Looks like this night just got a whole lot better."

Enzo grins as he starts unpacking the goodies. "Figured we could all use a little cheering up after today's classes. And maybe a distraction from that potions essay."

Theodore, looking up from his homework with relief. "You're a lifesaver, Enzo. I was about ready to drown myself in moonseed poison just to avoid finishing this."

You can't help but laugh as you settle more comfortably in Mattheo's lap, his arms wrapping around you a bit tighter. "Butterbeer and Candy sounds like a perfect evening to me."

Mattheo nuzzles your neck playfully. "Anything's perfect as long as you're here," he murmurs, earning a mock gagging noise from Draco.

"Spare us the mushy stuff, Riddle," Draco quips, though his smile betrays his amusement.

“Now, who’s fancying a game of uno?” Blaise questions.

Once again what you had failed to see what pansy taking out her camera which now was adorned with a little cherry sticker no doubt luna sticking it on from one of their late night meetings and clicking a photo.

(readers physical appearance is not based off the girl in the picture)

𖦹. °‧. ★. ✮. ‧₊˚

3rd time.

You were hit with the smell of salty water as you approached the black lake pansy right on your trail. You were hit with the smell of salty water as you approached the Black Lake, Pansy right on your trail. The evening sun cast a golden hue over the grounds, making the lake appear shinier than ever. Ahead, you could see the familiar figures of your friends and your boyfriend. Draco who was sitting on the wide wooden dock with his feet dipped in the lake while Theo and Enzo played in the water, their laughter echoing across the grounds. Your boyfriend mattheo leaning against the nearby tree watching his friends with a smile on his face.

Draco noticed your approach first, his smirk widening as he saw you. "Well, look who decided to join the party," he called out, turning his head towards the two of you approaching. His platinum blonde hair was tousled, his usual scowl now replaced with a face of ease, his feet dangling in the cool water.

Mattheo glanced up at Draco’s remarks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Took you long enough," he teased, pushing off from the tree he was leaning against. His curly hair falling into his eyes as he walked over to you, hands casually in his pockets.

Pansy rolled her eyes but smiled, giving Draco a playful shove as she sat down next to him. "We had to deal with Filch near the library. You know how he gets."

Draco chuckled. "Good thing you made it out alive."

Out in the water, Theo and Enzo were still splashing around. Enzo dived beneath the surface and re-emerging with a grin. "You guys are missing out!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the lake. "The water’s perfect!"

"Just watch out for the giant squid,” Pansy called back. A small smile present on her face.

Theo perked up suddenly “look at those lovebirds having their alone time” he said nodding towards a spot farther down the lake, Pansy and Draco both looked in the direction of where Theo had his head turned. The sight had all of them cooing.

Mattheo had taken advantage and had sneaked you away with his hand on your lower back when the rest were busy conversing and had taken you a bit farther down the lake away from your friend group. You two now sat beside each other looking over the black lake occasionally laughing.

You glanced at mattheo quickly taking a seat to the now far away spot that he took you to

Enzo and theo seem to be having fun”

Mattheo sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. "They're like kids in a candy store," he said with a chuckle. "But that's what makes it entertaining."

You hummed looking out at the lake. "It's good to let loose every now and then," he continued his tone, surprisingly caring "We've got enough to worry about with classes and… everything else."

Now glancing at him, you understood what he meant, the slytherins werent liked much before the war and now after? The hatred towards them had only grown worse, the boys and pansy had continuously been getting spat remarks at and getting side eyes thrown at them. Mattheo, Theodore always resorting to making sure the commenter ended up in the hospital wing, Draco resorting to insulting them back. But pansy, Enzo and Blaise had just ended up ignoring the insults thrown their way,

You had hated seeing Mattheo with random bruises along his face and hands, you knew the other end would always end up worse but it stung to see him all hurt. Each bruise was a reminder of all the prejudice he had faced.

You quickly took his hand, your thumb gently tracing over a fresh bruise on his knuckles from the other day. "I wish you all didn't have to go through this," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. "It's not fair."

“It's not, but it's just how it is I guess” he said quietly.

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a mixture of frustration and affection. "Just promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt."

He smiled, a touch of mischief returning to his expression. "I promise. But you know me—I can’t just let them walk all over us."

You nodded, understanding his need to stand up for himself and his friends. "I know. Just… don’t take unnecessary risks, okay?"

He leaned closer, his forehead touching yours. “For you, I'll try," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“What are you doing?” asked Draco when Pansy took out her camera.

She shrugged “They look cute together so im capturing the moment”

“Now, now Pansy dont go all soft on us all alright?”

“Oh please i'm not going soft you twat”

(readers physical appearance is not based off the girl in the picture)

𖦹. °‧. ★. ✮. ‧₊˚

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader

758 notes · View notes

thehoneybeestings · 4 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐯𝐢 𝐱 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 2k Content/Warnings: sfw, arcane au in which they're all actors starring in the show, bold vi x clueless reader, reader gets yelled at by a dickhead but vi doesn't play about u, reader doesn't like coffee or beer sorry I'm projecting, reader referred to w fem pronouns and terms A/N: yayyy here we are with pt 2 of the arcane actor au series! i honestly wasn't planning on writing for anyone else, but if there's someone else you'd really like to see in this universe, let me know and I'll do my best to bring it to life! i hope you enjoy :)

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐕𝐢

୨ৎ So remember that Sevika is the polar opposite of her actress, Nina?

୨ৎ Well, stick Vi in our world and there's Quinn Lockland

୨ৎ She's a b-list actress, made popular mostly by her giant fanbase of sapphics, because come on; look at her

୨ৎ Looks aside, she’s also known for her big personality (this is a nice way of saying she has no media training and is constantly stressing her management team The Fuck out)

୨ৎ She's most frequently described by her fans as a “puppy dog lesbian”: super outgoing and down-to-earth, himbo energy, sass for days, but also has a huge heart

୨ৎ She's a golden retriever!

୨ৎ And it is very hard not to fall for her… you're quick to learn this during your first few weeks working as a set PA for Arcane’s second season

୨ৎ It's your first time working on a project of this scale, so despite essentially being a glorified errand boy, you're still over the moon to have gotten the opportunity

୨ৎ Of course, it helps that nearly every day, you share a set with Quinn Lockland, who seems to have taken a liking to you, too…

୨ৎ She's had her eye on you for as long as you've been working on set, but you don't even realize she knows you exist until she comes up one day to officially introduce herself

୨ৎ She walks up behind you, wearing one of those giant puffy coats that actors wear when their costumes don't account for freezing temperatures, and places a gentle hand on the back of your arm to grab your attention

୨ৎ “Hey! Y/n, right?”

୨ৎ Holy hell

୨ৎ She's even prettier up close

୨ৎ Wait… how does she already know your name?

୨ৎ Ugh, don't get your hopes up; she probably just saw your name on the call sheet and needs something

୨ৎ “Y-yeah, that's me,” you say, trying your best to act casual despite being face-to-face with one of your celebrity crushes, “what can I do for you?”

୨ৎ “Oh, no!” She chuckles, and her baby blues crinkle up into crescent moons. “I don't need anything; you're all good. Just got out of hair and makeup early and wanted to say hi.”

୨ৎ “O-Oh..” you chuckle awkwardly (before kicking yourself for being so damn awkward)

୨ৎ Luckily, Quinn is super good at making conversation regardless of how shy the other person may be, so she continues

୨ৎ “This your first series?”

୨ৎ “Oh, yes! It is, I've only worked movie sets before, so…”

୨ৎ “Same here,” she nods. “I think I prefer this. Gives me more time to explore the character and all that nerdy actor shit.”

୨ৎ This earns a laugh from you, and the smile that breaks out on her face is so fucking warm you nearly melt

୨ৎ She juts her arm out, gesturing to the paper cup in hand

୨ৎ “Coffee?” She asks

୨ৎ “Oh, no thanks; I'm more of a tea person.”

୨ৎ “Noted,” she says-mostly to herself- and before you have time to read into what she meant by that, here comes the 2nd AD barking orders at you

୨ৎ “Need a new lav for Nina yesterday.”

୨ৎ Quinn doesn't miss the snappy tone they take with you

୨ৎ And you don't miss the narrowed eyes she shoots them as you dart off to complete your given task

୨ৎ For the rest of your time on set, Quinn greets you every morning with a coffee for herself in one hand and a tea for you in the other

୨ৎ “I don't know how you drink that shit. No sugar or anything. Tastes like dirt.”

୨ৎ “Quinn, you drink black coffee. I don't think you have room to judge.”

୨ৎ “ ‘S different.”

୨ৎ You playfully roll your eyes with a chuckle, and a smirk breaks out on her face as she lightly shoves you with her arm

୨ৎ “Hey! Watch it, you've got hot coffee in that-”

୨ৎ “Y/n?”

୨ৎ You hear her scoff

୨ৎ Surprise, surprise... the 2nd AD

୨ৎ She started keeping her eye on them- more specifically, how they treated you- after that first time she'd seen them speak to you disrespectfully

୨ৎ And Quinn being Quinn- outspoken as she is outgoing- isn't shy about making her growing distaste for them known

୨ৎ If there was one thing she didn't tolerate, it was anyone on set being treated as if they weren't an integral part of the production, regardless of what their title was

୨ৎ She'd been considered a little guy once- an extra on the set of a big movie, treated as if her role didn't matter- and since then, she'd vowed to stand up against any mistreatment she saw

୨ৎ One day, she's standing on her mark as the grips get everything ready for filming and beckons you over to bug you (you love it) one last time before action is called

୨ৎ “What's up?” You ask, assuming she needs something

୨ৎ “Nothing. Just missed you.”

୨ৎ You feel a heat rise to your cheeks, and you chuckle incredulously

୨ৎ “You're… ridiculous. You know-”

୨ৎ “Y/n,” the 2nd AD suddenly calls, “get out of the shot!”

୨ৎ She's quick to turn her head to them, anger evident on her face

୨ৎ “I called her over here,” she spits, shaking her head as they conveniently back down as soon as she speaks up

୨ৎ “Jesus, are they always rude as shit?”

୨ৎ You choke out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand

୨ৎ “Quinn,” you whisper, “the mics are on… they've got headphones, they can hear you!”

୨ৎ She shrugs her shoulders as if to say, “Like I give a fuck,” and you roll your eyes, shaking your head in amusement as you walk away

୨ৎ “You’re a mess, Lockland.”

୨ৎ “You love it,” she calls after you

୨ৎ But it all comes to a head when she's walking down the hall one day and hears the annoyingly unmistakable voice of the 2nd AD going in on someone just around the corner

୨ৎ “... and now our actors can't eat until an hour after they were promised and production has to account for a change in schedule because you couldn't even place a damn catering order correctly.”

୨ৎ “I-I’m so sorry...”

୨ৎ Her eyes widen

୨ৎ There was your unmistakable voice

୨ৎ “I completely understand-”

୨ৎ “No! I don't think you understand! You know, it might be time you consider if you're really cut out for-”

୨ৎ “Everything alright?”

୨ৎ Quinn finally rounds the corner and leans against the wall, her eyes burning into the AD

୨ৎ Their face runs pale

୨ৎ “Y-yes! Everything’s fine, we just-”

୨ৎ “You sure? Because I can't think of a good enough reason for her to be near tears right now.”

୨ৎ Her tone remains steady and collected, but you both know anger boils just under the surface

୨ৎ “She… she just-”

୨ৎ “Fuck off.”

୨ৎ There it was

୨ৎ She kicks off the wall with a look that could kill, and the AD goes scrambling

୨ৎ The minute her eyes are on you- shaken up and downright humiliated- she softens, reaching out to squeeze your arm

୨ৎ “You okay?”

୨ৎ “Yeah, I just… it is my fault; I accidentally placed the lunch order for 1 instead of 12-”

୨ৎ She cuts you off with a dramatic eye roll

୨ৎ “Oh my god, and now we're all gonna die.”

୨ৎ A soft chuckle manages to escape through your tears, and a smile breaks out on her face at the sight

୨ৎ “I mean, seriously, when has lunch ever gotten here on time? You're fine, love. C’mon, your dirt water is getting cold.”

୨ৎ So… the 2nd AD doesn't come back…

୨ৎ But hey! You get promoted and take their spot!

୨ৎ Now, you're much more involved with the filming process and around Quinn a lot more as a result

୨ৎ Somehow, you still don't see that the giant crush you have on her is very much reciprocated

୨ৎ At least, not until today

୨ৎ It's been one of the longest days on set yet; Quinn is hungry, exhausted, and now, she's filming one of the most devastating scenes that Vi is in

୨ৎ Your brows are knit together in focus, watching through the screen as she lays flat on her back on the giant metal set piece, sobs wracking her body

୨ৎ But when the director calls cut, she doesn't stop crying

୨ৎ You can see her trying to play it off-sitting up, running her fingers through her hair- but she's still crying

୨ৎ You look over at the director, concern written all over your face, and he nods, giving you the go-ahead to check on her

୨ৎ “Hey,” you say gently, kneeling down and placing a hand on her shoulder, “you okay, Quinn?”

୨ৎ Your comfort only makes her tears return in full swing

୨ৎ “I’m just tired,” she says, voice breaking, “and that was a lot.”

୨ৎ “Yeah,” you nod, thumb swiping tears from under her eyes, “it was. You done for the day?”

୨ৎ She chuckles dryly through her tears

୨ৎ “I’m so done.”

୨ৎ The set finally wraps for the day, and you wait outside of her trailer as she changes into sweatpants and a hoodie

୨ৎ “I need a drink,” she exhales, walking down the trailer’s steps

୨ৎ “You need to eat, too,” you remind her with a smile

୨ৎ “Damn, I do… pizza and beer at my place?” She asks

୨ৎ “I don't drink beer…” you shyly admit

୨ৎ “Dude. First, the tea, now this? You're so high maintenance…”

୨ৎ She may feign irritation, but she swings an arm over your shoulder as you walk to her car anyway

୨ৎ Now, the two of you sit across from each other on her couch, half a pizza knocked out, Quinn nursing a beer, and you a glass of wine

୨ৎ “What about Serena? I mean, you guys obviously have chemistry, or people wouldn't like Caitlyn and Vi together so much.”

୨ৎ The of you were on the topic of your love lives now; well, the lack thereof…

୨ৎ “She's taken,” Quinn informs you, “and not really my type anyway.”

୨ৎ “Oh? Then what is your type?”

୨ৎ She throws back the last sip of her beer before placing the bottle on the table

୨ৎ There's a pregnant pause as she leans back, considering what to say next, or rather, if she should say what's already on the tip of her tongue

୨ৎ Fuck it, she thinks

୨ৎ “I don't know. I suppose I have kind of a thing for 2nd AD’s.”

୨ৎ You throw your head back in a laugh

୨ৎ “What?!” you ask, the comment going over your head completely

୨ৎ “That’s-”

୨ৎ Oh… now you get it…

୨ৎ Your voice drops, just over a whisper

୨ৎ “Oddly specific…”

୨ৎ She gives you a knowing smirk

୨ৎ “Wait… so does that mean… so just to confirm-”

୨ৎ “Yes, Y/n. I like you.”

୨ৎ The two of you have a good laugh over just how clueless you'd been, and eventually- two glasses of wine, three beers, half a pizza, and one makeout session later- you're passed out on the couch, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled together

୨ৎ It isn't long after that night that the two of you make it official, and you move in with her after season two wraps

୨ৎ Your relationship is kept relatively private, until one night, Quinn is live on Instagram doing a Q&A for the season’s premiere

୨ৎ She's in the middle answering a question- ironically, about CaitVi- when you walk behind her, not realizing you're in frame

୨ৎ Suddenly, she's flooded with comments

୨ৎ “omg who was that?!”

୨ৎ “QUINN U HAVE SOMEONE OVER RN GET OFF LIVE?!"

୨ৎ “mama a girl behind u…”

୨ৎ The last catches her attention

୨ৎ “Mama, a…”

୨ৎ Her head whips around in a panic, and she sighs in relief when she sees you standing there

୨ৎ “Oh my fuck, whoever said “mama a girl behind you” is banned, I deadass thought there was an intruder…”

୨ৎ You let out a chuckle at this

୨ৎ “omg who is she!!”

୨ৎ “AWW HER LAUGH”

୨ৎ “WAIT NO DON'T BSN MR PLS”

୨ৎ Quinn reads all of the comments with a coy smile

୨ৎ “You've been discovered, babe,” she calls out to you

୨ৎ You immediately feel so bad, worrying that you've ruined the live or that you've put her in the position to publicize your relationship before she was ready

୨ৎ “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

୨ৎ She turns to give you a warm smile

୨ৎ “Don't apologize, love. You're fine; you didn't do anything wrong.”

୨ৎ Now everyone’s going crazy over how sweet she is to you

୨ৎ And sweet she is; she is the lover boy of the century, and now that you're public, she brags about you any chance she gets

୨ৎ You two quickly become one of the internet’s favorite couples; a staple conversation topic for your everyday sapphic

୨ৎ And once a month, you two make a point to have pizza, wine, and beer to commemorate the night that you finally realized Quinn Lockland was just as whipped for you as you were for her

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

#vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi imagine #vi headcanon #vi fluff #arcane actor au #arcane au #vi au #arcane imagine #arcane fluff #arcane headcanon #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #vi arcane

236 notes · View notes

bradleysass · 4 months ago

Text

Map - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 773

"You're holding it upside down."

"I'm not holding it upside down, Regulus."

James’ voice wobbled dangerously, which was a sign that he was either going to cry or laugh hysterically. Regulus hoped for the latter. He didn't have the emotional energy to console him if he broke down into frustrated tears.

"You absolutely are," Regulus said, snatching the wrinkled, smudged map out of James' grip. "The words are upside down, you idiot."

James made a strangled noise. "Oh, because that’s the problem! Not the fact that the ink is running, and we have no idea where we are, and my socks are wet, and we—"

"James."

James inhaled sharply. He looked one second away from a full-blown tantrum. His glasses had slid down his nose, and his curls were frizzing from the humidity. Regulus should’ve found it funny, but he was too busy being angry.

"This was your plan," Regulus reminded him, holding up the ruined map like it was exhibit A in James’ trial for Worst Navigator of the Year. "You said we wouldn’t get lost. You said, and I quote, 'Reg, my love, my moon and stars, my most beautiful boy, I am a professional at reading maps.'"

James groaned, running a hand down his face. "To be fair, I really thought I was."

"Clearly, you were wrong."

"You could be a little less mean about it," James muttered, kicking a stray rock.

Regulus folded his arms. "We are stranded in the middle of nowhere. My shoes are covered in mud. There is no signal. There is no road. There is—" He gestured vaguely at the abyss of trees and dirt surrounding them. "—nothing, James. How, exactly, am I supposed to be nice about that?"

James sniffled.

Regulus exhaled through his nose. "Oh, don’t do that."

"I'm not—" James cleared his throat, blinking rapidly. "I’m not doing anything."

"You’re going to cry," Regulus accused.

"I am not going to cry!" James said, deeply offended, even as his lower lip wobbled.

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Merlin." He was stuck in the middle of the wilderness with a man who was possibly on the verge of tears and definitely not on the verge of getting them out of this mess.

James huffed, rubbing his nose. "I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas."

"That's because I'm too busy being furious at you."

"Okay, but if you put that aside for a second—"

Regulus fixed him with a glare.

James sighed, defeated.

The trees rustled ominously.

Regulus stared down at the smeared map in his hands. The ink had bled in long, inky streaks, their route a meaningless blur. They might as well have been looking at an abstract painting. He let his hands drop to his sides, feeling the last of his patience drain out of him.

"Well," he said flatly. "I suppose this is where we die."

James groaned dramatically. "Oh my god, Reg, you’re being so dramatic."

"Am I?" Regulus turned his glare back on him. "Are we not two idiots lost in the wilderness, with no sense of direction and no survival skills to speak of?"

James opened his mouth, then closed it. He considered. "I have survival skills," he finally muttered.

Regulus arched an eyebrow.

James hesitated. "Some survival skills."

"Which ones?" Regulus asked, voice syrupy with false sweetness. "You mean the ones that got us lost? Or the ones that made you bring a map drawn on parchment when rain was in the forecast?"

James groaned again, dramatically collapsing onto the nearest tree stump. "You love being right, don’t you?"

"I love not dying in the woods, James."

James scrubbed his hands over his face. "Okay. Okay. Let's think. Worst case scenario, we sleep here for the night—"

Regulus made a strangled sound.

"—but we won’t have to do that," James hurriedly added, correctly interpreting the look of absolute horror on Regulus' face. "Because we are capable and resourceful and will get back to civilization before sunset!"

Regulus inhaled deeply through his nose. "If we get out of here, I’m going to kill you."

James grinned at him. "You’d miss me too much."

Regulus didn’t dignify that with a response.

Instead, he turned on his heel, facing a random direction. If James had ruined their only map, then they would have to get out the old-fashioned way. "Come on," he said, grabbing James by the wrist and yanking him to his feet. "We’re walking until we find a road."

"You're so bossy," James muttered, but he followed.

Regulus didn’t let go of his hand.

Even if they were doomed, they’d be doomed together.

#marauders #jeggyverse microfics #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #microfic

213 notes · View notes

stinkyturd · 6 months ago

Text

When It Rains

Pairing: Leo Kurosagi/Reader

Comments: This one's pretty long, 15.6k. There's probably spacing issues, but I'm too tired to go over it again. FUCK Tumblr's editing system. The format is easier to read on ao3(I cross posted), if you find the texting portions to be a headache. MC is an anonymous Vtuber that makes commentary videos. Leo's a viewer and drama ensues. :')

"Ugh... I hate it when it rains."

Leo’s sprawled out on the couch in the Vagastrom garage, playing on his phone. His feet are kicked up on the armrest, despite the fact that he still has his shoes on. You sat on the loveseat across from him, going over errors on recent case reports. This week you were assigned to help out Alan and Leo, but mostly Alan. To your knowledge, Leo hasn't been doing much of any work as of late. Either that, or he just didn't want you involved in anything that he had his nose in, which would also track.

"What? Upset you can't spy on Alan as easily?" You ask, not bothering to look up from your laptop.

You already knew the answer. The rain was falling hard enough against the tin roof that you knew there was no way he was clearly eavesdropping on the Vagastrom captain from here.

Leo shrugs dismissively. "The rain isn't gonna last all day."

"Alan will be out later," You counter.

"I'll know when he gets back."

“It’ll probably be your bedtime by then," You remark as your fingers dance across the keyboard in front of you.

"I'll be up late. I gotta stream tonight anyway." Leo tilts his head to look at you. "Stay the night and help me.”

"Not happening," You shut him down without hesitation. Leo isn't well behaved enough for you to go out of your way to do favors for him unprompted. Not only that, you planned on recording a video today for your Youtube channel.

It was a side hustle you picked up a few months ago. You report general news and social media gossip anonymously using a voice modulator and a virtual avatar. The idea came to you after reading an article on the spike in popularity with Vtubers. You didn't particularly want the attention that came with a social media platform, so it seemed perfect. Making money at Darkwick proved to be difficult, but somehow you garnered enough consistent views to make a decent amount of income.

The content itself felt opportunistic, but it's popular. You did your best to make sure all details you reported on were accurate and not character assassination like some of the other creators would put out.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" Leo retorts in an accusatory tone.

"I'm supposed to be helping you with Darkwick duties," You correct him. "Last I checked, that doesn't include eavesdropping on your captain's private conversations."

Leo scoffs. "You don't know that."

You ignore his comment and catch him continuing to stare at you in your peripheral vision. He is likely banking on you caving. Unfortunately for him, it won't happen that easily.

Leo narrows his eyes at you. "Get me an energy drink from the fridge."

You let out a one-syllable, humorless, laugh. "Are your legs broken?"

"I just took a hot bath. Don't feel like walking."

"Sounds like a ‘you’ problem."

"...Fine." Leo snaps his head forward, returning his attention back to his phone.

Allowing silence to fall, you continue your work. For a brief few moments, the only noise in the room is your fingers hitting the keys on your laptop.

"...Looks like I'll just have to tell that infantile werewolf the real reason you ditched him the other day," Leo mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your hands still and you finally glance up at him with a sharp look. "What?"

Leo types out a text. "Oh, nothing. I was just speaking out loud."

"Canceling aside, how do you even know that I planned to hang out with Lyca?"

The vice-captain shrugs. "Use that brain of yours for once."

You cease your typing and your fingers curl into the palm of your hand in agitation. "...Have you been snooping around the cathedral?"

"Tch, don't flatter yourself. I just happened to be passing by."

"And you just happened to activate your stigma near my location where no one else is? Get real, Kurosagi," You bite back.

Leo glosses over your comment and continues to antagonize you. "What will the poor pooch think when he finds out that you weren't actually pulled for a mission? You just blew him off to cozy up with King Kamurai."

"It's not like that, asshole! I just overbooked my schedule."

It was true. You had lost track of time that day filming one of your Youtube videos. So much so, that you forgot you had promised to help Jin that afternoon and didn't end up having time for both. You called Lyca to tell him that you had to do a mission to avoid over-explaining, or admitting to your negligence. You knew there was no point defending yourself, though. Leo would spin the story anyway to get what he wants.

Leo tosses a glance your way, his expression mocking. "Yeah? That why you were all dressed up when you left?"

Why the hell was he paying that much attention?

"...That wasn't for him," You protest.

Yet another misconception. It was for a brand deal and you didn't have time to change out of it. But you weren't about to blow your cover to Leo of all people.

The vice-captain rolls his eyes. "Puh-lease. Honestly, it's kind of pathetic that you think someone like Kamurai would actually go for you."

At this point, you're clenching your jaw so tightly that you think it might snap. "You're grasping at straws. For you to be lurking around my dorm long enough to witness all those details is more pathetic. Why are you so obsessed with tormenting me?"

"Implying my gathering intel is exclusive to you." Leo sighs and draws his attention back to his phone. "Spare me, Honor Roll. You're not special. Anyway, if you don't grab me an energy drink, I'll just text the hound my version of your dirty little secret."

"..."

You wordlessly shut your laptop and toss it to the side. Then you get to your feet and head for the mini fridge across the room.

"Put it over ice~" Leo demands in a sing-song voice.

You'd put it over ice, alright.

When you open up the fridge, you pull out a random energy drink from inside the door. The design on the can is gaudy and you don't recognize it-- likely something Leo had been gifted for free from one of his own brand deals. You peel back the aluminum lip at the top and a satisfying hiss rings in the air. There happens to be disposable cups on top of the fridge, right next to the ice maker. You grab one, fill it with ice, then pour the energy drink over the top. Once it's empty, you take some of your pent up aggression out on the can and crunch it up, before it gets tossed into a nearby recycling bin.

You make your way back over to Leo.

Leo clicks his tongue. "Took you long enough." The vice-captain holds out his grubby hand expectantly. "Give it here."

A wry smile pulls at your lips. "Yeah. Sure."

Ignoring the potential consequences of your actions, you bring the lip of the cup to your mouth and spit into the drink before handing it to him. "Here you go, Princess."

Leo stares blankly at the cup in your hand, his expression unimpressed. He takes it from you and brings it to his mouth, drinking out of it anyway.

…Well, can't say you expected that.

Leo flashes a derisive grin. "Try harder next time, NPC. Now piss off, will you? I'm about to record some reels and I don't need an eye sore in the background.”

For a moment you fantasize about beating the vice-captain into a bloody pulp. And why shouldn't you? He's a complete menace, after all. It’s not the first time he's blackmailed you and it wouldn't be the last.

You will get back at him.

“Sure thing.” You maintain a pleasant enough expression as you walk over to your previous spot to retrieve your laptop. After that, you gladly heed Leo's request and make yourself scarce.

–

Later that night, you record a video for your channel. It's short enough in length that you don't spend long editing it. That leaves you just enough time to upload it, before it's time to start getting ready for bed.

The video covered a week's worth of social media news that you had gathered, and also included a segment where you plugged a brand deal for a clothing company. They sent you several outfits for free that you tried on and reviewed. Of course, you made sure your face had been cut out for that portion of the video.

By the time you're dressing down in your pajamas you receive a text notification from your phone that's lying on your mattress. Nothing out of the ordinary– you'd check it once you're done.

And then another comes in. And another. Followed by two more.

You sigh, narrowing your eyes at the device as you pull your pants up. There's only one person that spam texts to you in fragments like that.

Leo.

What could he possibly want this time?

You begrudgingly make your way over to your bed, pick up your phone, and flop down on your stomach. After unlocking the screen, you check your notification bar.

Oh, it isn't Leo.

Just messages from someone on Instagram that you don't immediately recognize. After staring at the screen name for a moment, you realize it's a variation of a name that you've seen in your Youtube comment section– firechicken22. You click on the message.

[Omg]

[U always come in hot with the tea]

[Was about to search for that recent drama w chillygoat cuz ive been busy]

[But u did the work for me 🩷]

You smile at that and type a message back.

[Glad I could help 💕.]

You thought that would be the end of it, but you see them typing again.

[I rly liked the clothes u wore today. Cant believe u got a brand deal w Kimyou, totally jelly. Been tryna get one w them for years.]

Oh? Is this person a content creator? Curiosity gets the better of you and you click on their profile.

They only have a couple hundred followers, and they follow a couple of people– you being one of them. The few pictures they have up seem to be shitposts, not actual photos. And their profile picture is a bowl of spicy ramen. Another text notification pops up on your screen.

[I got a deal w Mior but theyre inconsistent w sending products :P]

You click on the notification again to reply.

[Mior? That's a pretty big deal. You create content?]

[Mhm. This is my alt lol. I avoid dming on my main.]

[Oh? Do I follow you?]

[Nope. I'll let u know if u ever do 😉]

Seems like they don't plan on telling you.

[Haha, alright. Keep your secrets. 🤭]

[I'll drop hints if u keep talking to me. 😏 Kinda wanna get to know u. I like ur takes on stuff.]

You don't mind the idea of messaging this person when you have time. Your following is decent sized, but it's not like you receive a lot of messages from fans. Plus, you were a little curious as to who this could be.

[Sure. I've been a little busy, but I'll respond when I have time. ☺️ I'm glad you feel like you can relate to what I put out. I try to keep things unbiased.]

[Kinda impossible to avoid at some point lol. I think u are impartial enough tho. Every1 glazes chillygoat but shes fr two faced asf– I should know.]

[I haven't spoken with her personally, but I'll take your word for it.]

That Youtuber wouldn't give you the time of day if you wanted it. You were still a small fry.

[We collabed b4 n all she does is yap about this guy that doesnt even want her n only talks about herself. Couldnt get a word in, shes lucky I was in a good mood. Totally not surprised she got caught w her pants down lmao.]

If this person has collabed with chillygoat, they must be relatively big. You're a little surprised they're revealing such a harsh opinion right off the bat.

[That's too bad! I've known some people that can be self-centered like that too. Sucks that you had to deal with that.]

[Nah its fine lol. U cant expect to meet much nice ppl in this industry. Then theres u.]

[There's me?]

[Yup. Ur a little too nice for this platform. :P]

You blink, a little perplexed by the random observation.

[You've never even talked to me outside of comment sections. 🤔]

[Don't need to im good at scoping ppl out. Thts why im talking shit to u, I trust u wont tell on me. 😘]

[I dunno… That's a lot of pressure to put on me. Withholding profitable tea for the sake of being a trustworthy person? 🫣]

[Lol cap. U dont even report hearsay like that nice try 💕.]

[Okay, you caught me. x) Your secret is safe with me.]

[U should add me on Snapchat its still firechicken22. I'll respond on it faster cuz thats the only app I dont have another acc on rn.]

Adding randoms on Snapchat is… dubious at best.

[Snapchat, huh? I have one, but I rarely use it. Are you a guy?]

[Lol yea. What u afraid im gonna send u dick pics? Im classier than that.]

[Hm… 🤔 Okay, I'll trust you. Adding you now.]

[Thx 🫰🏻. Anyway I'll ttyl. Got shit I gotta do. Night. 💤]

[Goodnight!]

You hook your phone up to its charger and bury yourself under the covers of your bed. Tomorrow you would do your morning classes and help at Vagastrom after. Then you'd inadvertently deal with your least favorite person on the planet– Leo.

Ugh.

—

“Oh, Alan! Your keys are falling out of your jacket.”

“Hm…?” The captain stops in front of your spot on the couch and looks down at his pocket. “...Oh.”

A few keys on his ring are spilling out of the fabric sleeve. It looks as if the bottom seam is hanging on by a few threads. You set your laptop to the side and stand to examine it.

“Looks like it needs a touch up,” You remark as you gently nudge the metal accessories back inside.

Alan nods. “Yeah. Must have snagged it on something when I was looking at the undercarriage of that truck.” The captain shakes his head. “I'll just switch it with my other one tomorrow.”

“I can fix it for you! I'm not the best at it, but I am capable of minor repairs,” You offer with a smile.

Alan returns a smile of his own, appearing a little meek. “That… isn't necessary. Aren't you busy right now?”

“I'm caught up enough!” You insist. “I even have an emergency sewing kit on me because I had to fix a tear this morning in class. It's no sweat!”

Alan shoots you a skeptical look. After a few beats he caves and removes his jacket and hands it to you. “Thanks. I'll get you a coffee.”

“I won't say no to caffeine!” You reply genially. Taking the jacket from him, you plop back down on the sofa and get to work. Alan makes his way to the door leading out of the garage and into the main section of the Vagastrom building.

“Wow, so that's suddenly part of your inspector duties, huh?”

Your eyes snap up to see Leo's. He's lying on the couch across from you, just as he was yesterday.

“Yeah,” You answer with a dismissive shrug as you begin to thread a sewing needle from your kit. “Alan is actually kind and cooperative. Unlike you.”

“Sounds like bias to me. Don't tell me you're mooning over that himbo?”

You roll your eyes and begin to adjust the torn pocket of Alan's jacket to make your first stitch. “Always jumping to conclusions. Let's say I was. How is that your business?”

You don't mean it. As much as you adore Alan, you don't know him well enough to have those kinds of feelings towards him. A flash of indiscernible emotion crosses Leo's face for a brief moment. It leaves as quick as it comes, and a mocking grin peels his features.

“Awwh. You wanna fuck him?”

You frown, barely sparing him a glance before returning your attention back to your project. “Don't be so crass.”

“What other conclusion am I supposed to draw? You do so many favors for him that you don't need to be doing and it's laughable.”

“Why do you care?” You ask, keeping your tone level.

“Care is a strong word. I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“Why?” You press as you loop the needle through the pieces of fabric.

Leo's shit-eating grin turns tight-lipped the longer you grill him. “Because you bitch and whine about doing the simplest shit.”

“For you,” You correct coolly. “Try not being insufferable for a change. Besides, didn't you say Sho is your ‘slave’ before? Ask him to do it.”

Ever since the first mission you did with Vagastrom, Sho has been increasingly less patient with helping Leo. The vice-captain has noticed it too, judging by how his expression shifts to a noticeably irritated one after you make the comment.

“Get your eyes checked. Does it look like he's here, NPC?” Leo bites back rigidly.

You hum and suppress a smirk. “Wonder why that is? Maybe he's getting tired of your shit.”

Leo's eyes crinkle as he maintains his cheery facade. He turns his head forward and starts typing away at his phone. “Mmm, yeah. Maybe you're onto something. Guess I gotta get a new servant.”

“Guess you do.” You get the last word in.

The both of you sit in silence for the next few minutes. He texts away on his phone while you sew up Alan's jacket.

Right when you're finishing up the last few stitches, your phone pings, notifying you of a message. You ignore it for now to finish your task and it goes off a few more times after that.

“You getting spam sent to your email? Shut that off, it's annoying,” Leo complains without looking up from his phone.

You roll your eyes as you secure your last stitch and cut the thread. “It only pings for my texts, it will stop.”

For reasons unbeknownst to you, the vice-captain chortles. You ignore it.

“Should be good,” You murmur to yourself as you tug the pocket to test the durability. Deciding it's fine, you set Alan's jacket to the side and pick up your phone to check your messages. When you unlock your phone and pull down your notification bar, you see a few texts from Lyca. You click on one of them.

[(y/n) is it true?]

[that jerky guy thats mean to suba texted me..]

[he said you only hang out with me because darkwick makes you]

[and said that you think i smell weird]

You clench the phone in your hands with a dangerous amount of force as indignant fury builds in the pit of your stomach.

First things first, you text Lyca back.

[Block him, please. I said nothing like that, he's just being a child. I'll come over later tonight to help you study. Please, please, do not listen to him. 🙏]

You stand up, drop your phone to the side, and march over towards Leo. The conniving sack of shit is grinning from ear to ear with his attention locked on the screen in his hand. He's still typing out messages to Lyca, judging by what you can see of the profile picture. Somehow the dumbass still doesn't notice you approaching.

You reach over Leo's shoulder and easily yank his phone from his grip. The vice-captain flits his gaze upwards, the amusement on his expression only becoming more obvious.

“Fucking asshole,” You growl. From a quick glance, you notice that he sent far more than what Lyca reported to you. Without hesitation, you erase the message Leo had started to type out and then delete Lyca’s contact information.

Leo moves to get to his feet and you instinctively take several steps back. “Aaawh, you mad?”

“You wanted my attention that badly, Kurosagi?” You taunt. If not for the influence of anger, your tone would ideally be more unbothered. You're only giving this pipsqueak what he wants, after all.

“Yeah, real bad.” Leo holds out his open palm. “You deleted it right? Give it back, NPC.”

You let out a taunting laugh. “Fat chance.”

Without missing a beat, you spin on your heel and bolt in the opposite direction, Leo's phone in hand.

“Hey…!”

The garage is big enough that you can run around without getting cornered if you do it meticulously. You didn't have a plan other than you knew you wanted to get back at the scheming rat. Leo's feet stomping against the concrete could be heard at your tail as you speed around the perimeter of the garage. You knock over a few stools to trip him up and even mistakenly shoulder check another nameless Vagastrom student in your haste.

“Watch it!”

“Sorry!” You yell back without turning around.

“Can't run for long, Honor Roll!” Leo grabs at the end of your skirt's uniform, but you somehow manage to slip away just in time.

Unfortunately, he's right. As annoying as Leo is he's still got more stamina and agility, being a ghoul and all. You're now on your second lap around the room and the only reason he hasn't caught you is because of the stuff you keep knocking over in front of him. Regardless, you had to exact your revenge somehow– even if you get caught in the process. Making a split-second decision, you run for a nearby bathroom and fling open the door, before promptly slamming it shut behind you.

And there it is. A urinal filled with someone's leftover, unflushed, piss.

Committing to your act of tyranny, you fling Leo's phone into the dirty urinal. You watch as the device clatters against the back of the ceramic before fully submerging into the sewage water.

The door opens behind you and Leo skirts to a complete halt when his eyes land on the urinal ahead.

“...”

The vice-captain lets go of the door, allowing it to hinge to a close on its own. You feel your stomach drop from the silence that follows.

You intend to assess his expression, until the wind is suddenly knocked right out of you, and you're being shoved against a nearby wall.

Leo grabs your face roughly in one hand, while his other rests flat against the tile next to you. He's smiling, but it's completely devoid of warmth. His golden eyes bore into you so frigidly that it sends a chill down your spine.

“Now you've fucked up, (Y/N),” Leo says, his voice oozing contempt. “I didn't back up my recent data and I won't be the one to fish that out.”

You attempt to jerk your chin out of his grip, but he's surprisingly strong. Your hands move to the wrist that's holding onto you. “Let me go, piece of shit,” You manage through your pinched cheeks. “You deserve that and more.”

“How about you get it out for me, hm?” Leo narrows his eyes at you, his thumb dragging roughly over your bottom lip, exposing your teeth in the process. “I'll dunk you in headfirst and you'll catch it with your mouth, kay?”

You glare daggers at him, showing no indication of folding. “I can literally knee your balls and end this in two seconds, don't try me.”

Leo opens his mouth to speak, but then the door flies open yet again.

In comes Mido, a sight for sore eyes.

Alan frowns when his eyes land on the two of you. He wastes no time grabbing the vice-captain by the shoulder and pulling him backwards. “What the hell are you doing, Kurosagi?”

Leo loosens his grip on your face as he's drawn away from you. He grimaces, his lips peeling back as he attempts to jostle Alan's hand from him. “Fuck off, Himbo. This isn't your business.”

“It is,” Alan corrects. His gaze softens when his eyes meet yours. “What's going on, (Y/N)?”

You move yourself off of the wall and hastily begin your explanation. “Leo messaged Lyca lying about all sorts of mean shit because I won't do his petty bidding. He's an asshole! Now Lyca’s upset, so I threw Leo's phone in the urinal.”

Alan nods calmly, seemingly unsurprised by the revelation. His eyes redirect to the urinal that held the phone. “Sounds like Kurosagi instigated, as I expected.”

Leo bares his teeth and jerks away from Alan. “...Fucking simp.” You watch as the vice-captain barrels past him, exiting the bathroom in a huff.

“S-Sorry for the trouble,” You apologize meekly. “I'll clean up what I threw around out there.”

Alan shakes his head. “Don't worry about it. You're supposed to be helping us and he's causing problems with other houses.”

“But still… You're always so understanding. Thanks, Alan.” Your lips curl into an appreciative smile. “I finished sewing your jacket, it's on the couch.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). I appreciate it.” Alan smiles softly back at you. He hands you a canned coffee that you didn't notice he had until now. “Why don't you leave early today, so you can focus on whatever mess Kurosagi created?”

Alan's so sweet. A stark contrast to Leo.

“Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks so much.” You bow politely and accept the coffee from him. “And thanks for this.”

The Vagastrom captain nods and opens the door, gesturing for you to leave first.

As you exit the bathroom and head back towards the couch you notice that Leo is nowhere to be found. You wonder if he's going to pay someone to get his piss-soaked phone out of the urinal or just take the L.

Whatever, he probably has insurance on it anyway.

–

You don't get back to the cathedral until late in the evening. With all that had happened with Leo, you decided to spend your day with Lyca. Thankfully, your werewolf friend was understanding of the situation, because he knew enough about the Vagastrom vice-captain from Subaru.

By the time you're showered and settling in your bed to catch up on social media news, you receive a Snapchat notification from firechicken22. You open it.

[U doin research for ur next vid?]

[Yeah, how'd you guess?]

[Research takes time n its late. :P Best time to do it. Assuming ur in a similar time zone to me?]

Your time zone is the same as Tokyo, even though you're technically separated from it– being in Darkwick and all. You decide to go with that.

[I'm in Tokyo.]

[Lol same kinda. I dont live far from there. I figured cuz ur dialect.]

[Small world. 😊]

[Gonna stream soon so help me pick my outfit. Which one?]

You receive two images. Both are of firechicken22 standing in a full body mirror, but the pictures are cut off from the shoulder up. One photo he's wearing a denim, bright yellow, jacket, with patches of random black lettering. The other is a black color block jacket with a white hoodie underneath. Both are kind of grungy looking and stylish.

He's lean and has thin hands, you notice.

[Hmm… Do you usually wear more dark colors or bright ones?]

[Both lol. But ig my bright is usually in accents not full pieces.]

[Then do the yellow jacket. Spice it up.]

[I'll take ur word for it. I still got an hour b4 I go live so lets play a game.]

A game…?

[Okay, Jigsaw. What kind of game? 🤔]

[Would u rather. U dont post much about urself so I think itd be fun lol.]

You don't exactly have anything to hide. If you were to get more questions about yourself that aren't indicative of your identity, you'd answer them. So far, firechicken22 is the first to ask you to do something like this.

[Sure, why not? Any boundaries I should know about?]

[Nope what about u?]

[I don't think so. I'll just tell you if I don't want to answer it.]

[K u go first. :P]

The one who asks to play insists you go first, huh?

You look up a template on Google and pick something random.

[Alright I found one to ask you. Would you rather be poor but fun or rich but boring?]

[Um def dont wanna be boring. I'll do poor but fun cuz I can just marry rich.]

[Opportunistic, I see.]

[A dog eats dog world lol. My turn.]

[Go ahead.]

[Would u rather hit pause or rewind on ur life?]

A deep one, huh? Well with the Kyklos curse…

[Pause.]

[Interesting lol. Any reason?]

[Does ‘Would You Rather’ require explanations? 😏]

[Guess not. :P Ur turn again.]

[Would you rather give up all the memories, or money you made this year?]

[Def memories. 💴]

Firechicken22 is opportunistic and values money. Not that you can really blame him. It all depends on circumstance anyway, and you don't know his.

[Fair enough.]

[Would u rather have more time or energy?]

[Energy, I'd say. Can't seem to have enough.]

[Lol thought u would say that.]

The two of you trade questions for the next hour. It becomes obvious that firechicken22 really is trying to get to know you. And it's too soon to tell if he's genuinely curious, or if he is trying to coax your identity out of you. As far as you're concerned, there isn't much to gain in doing that because your following isn't that big.

So, maybe he's just a fan. Regardless, you don't intend on revealing anything too personal.

After the umpteenth question exchange, firechicken22 announces his plan to depart.

[Its been fun stranger but i gotta start my stream :P]

[Yeah, you're fun to talk to. Maybe you can send the link to your stream next time? 😌]

[Wanna c me that badly? I dont blame u~]

[I'm curious. But if you're streaming this late I'd be listening rather than watching. I do have morning classes, after all.]

[U go to university?]

Darkwick is kind of like a university, so you'll go with that. You certainly don't plan on revealing the name, though.

[Yeah. Do you?]

[Yup. Maybe I'll let u know who I am soon, or I'll let u guess if u dont recognize me.]

[Take your time, because I can't say when, or if I'll ever show my face to you.]

[The thought crossed ur mind? 😘]

[That's only natural if you bring it up, you know.]

[R u cute?]

[Hideous. 💩]

[Somehow I doubt that lol. Anyway gtg fr now. Nite~]

[Goodnight.]

Once you end your conversation with firechicken22, you realize it's already very late. Your research will have to wait until tomorrow, you decide. You tuck yourself in under the covers of your bed and plug your phone in its charger.

Tomorrow brings another day at Vagastrom. Hopefully Leo leaves you alone.

–

“Here's the ingredient list. Mind helping me gather it, while I find my phone? Pretty sure I left it in my room.”

You are talking to Sho in the kitchen at Vagastrom. Leo sits in a stool at the other end of the kitchen island, eating a bowl of ramen that’s notably bright red. You can only assume it's the extra spicy Buldak noodles he always buys. The vice-captain hasn't said a word to you so far.

“Sure. This is for the curry bread?” You ask as you glance over the sheet of paper.

Sho flashes you a dazzling smile. “Sure is. I'll be right back. In the meantime, I'm sure Leo can direct you if you have trouble finding something.”

“Riiight,” You say sarcastically, your eyes darting back over to Leo. He doesn't look up at the mention of his name.

Sho snickers and pats your back twice before leaving you to it.

You grab the list and begin searching for the ingredients. First you grab the cold items on the list from the fridge, since that was the easy part. Milk, butter, and ground beef. Then the vegetables, spices, panko, and sugar. The only thing you're struggling to find is the yeast and flour. You search the pantry and even open and close a bunch of cupboards. When you're not successful after the second search, you audibly curse.

“Looking for something, Honor Roll?”

Your attention snaps to Leo. His phone is resting on the counter and he's propping his head in his hand, eyeing you with newfound interest. The bowl of ramen is pushed to the side for now, with his chopsticks resting over the top of it.

“...Flour and yeast,” You answer reluctantly.

“Cupboard above the fridge,” Leo answers readily.

You glance up at the fridge and let out a sigh. It's particularly large. Who the hell decided it was a good idea to put a common kitchen ingredient all the way up there?

Leo must be drawing the same conclusion as you because he speaks up again. “That stool by the window is taller than the other ones. Could use that.”

You relocate your attention to said stool. It was out of place and looked like it belonged to a set of furniture that no longer exists in Vagastrom. Regardless, he's right. It is taller. Deciding you'll take his advice; you walk over to it and drag the piece of furniture all the way to the fridge.

Leo sure is being helpful today, all things considered. Maybe he regrets being a douche?

You climb on top of the stool and stand on your toes. It's high enough that you're able to easily open the cupboard above. You instantly spot the yeast and several large bags of flour when you do. As soon as you shift your weight and get your hands around what you need, you hear the stool creak painfully.

“...”

Cautiously, you settle backwards with the ingredients in your hand. Much to your dismay, as soon as you rest your heel onto the cushion of the stool, you hear a metal object clatter to the ground.

And then it tips.

“Shit…!”

You lose your momentum as the chair sways, and you unceremoniously crash to the ground on your side. The bag of flour in your arms bursts open and you're suddenly coated in the white powder.

“Pffft…”

…That snicker.

You drop the bag and the yeast, then lift your now aching body into a sitting position. Your eyes find Leo's. His phone is pointed towards you as if he's recording a video.

Leo tilts his head as a devious grin splits his delicate features. “Smile for the camera, NPC.”

Your blood boils.

“You did that on purpose,” You accuse, much more calmly than you feel.

“Me?” Leo poorly feigns a perplexed expression. “Naaah, I don't tinker with chairs.”

You grab a fistful of flour and get to your feet, making a beeline for him. “You knew it was broken, don't fuck with me.”

Leo lifts himself from his stool, the seat sliding back audibly as he does. You watch him shove his phone underneath the waistband of his pants just as you're stopping in front of him. “Ah, ah. Not this time, Honor Roll.”

“You seriously think that's going to stop me at this point, Kurosagi?” You move your hand to fling the flour in his face, but Leo catches your wrist before it can do too much damage. All the same, the powder falls from your fingertips and onto the front of his clothes.

He just laughs, though.

“That all you got? Flour is an easy clean up,” Leo taunts, thoroughly entertained.

His hold on your wrist is firm enough that you can't move it. You dart your other hand forward and go for his waistband, but he captures the other just as easily.

“Delete it,” You demand, unwavering.

Leo steps backwards as you continue to advance towards him, despite the restriction of your arms.

The smile doesn't leave the vice-captain's face. “Nah. You don't get to cost me a pretty penny to recover data and also make demands. That's not how it works, Princess.”

“How is it that you get to push people around however you want and expect no repercussions?” You protest angrily. “We were even, if anything!”

Leo raises an eyebrow and scoffs incredulously. “Even? As if you could get even with me.”

You grit your teeth at his delusional nonchalance. “You must be far too used to people pandering to you, because you're on another level of entitlement!”

Leo doesn't have time to reply before you catch your right leg behind his and push forward with all your strength. As you had hoped, Leo loses his balance and falls backwards. Unfortunately, his hold on your wrists stays secure and you end up tumbling with him.

The second he hits the ground, his grip loosens enough that you're able to tear your arms from him. You waste no time sitting up to straddle him. Your left hand grips the band of his pants while the right dives for the phone inside. Swallowing any embarrassment from the action, you find it resting against the side of his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. By the time you pull it out, you realize he's not fighting you anymore. A slight pink tinge adorns his face, yet he still sneers at you.

“Wow, pervert much?”

You ignore him and look at his screen, which miraculously is still unlocked. Clicking on the gallery, you browse the recent shots.

There is no video, only recent selfies he's taken.

You narrow your eyes at him. “...You were bluffing.”

Leo sticks his tongue out. “Looks like you felt me up for nothing, freak.”

Heat rises to your face. “T-That's totally your fault, idiot! As if I wanted to!”

Without warning, Leo sits up, causing you to slide into his lap. He grabs his phone from your hand and his gaze lands on your wrist.

The vice-captain blinks in surprise. “...Where'd you get that bracelet?”

The sudden question throws you off guard. You glance at the bracelet he's looking at. A unique gold pressed flower bracelet that you got from Kimyou. It’s a pre-order that hasn't been released yet, but the company gifted it to you because of your sponsorship. Leo must know this company, so his confusion is understandable.

“I…” You lick your lips nervously, fumbling for an excuse. “Have a friend that works there.”

You feel Leo's eyes on you and you reluctantly meet his gaze again. He stares at you for a few beats, his expression unreadable.

A short laugh escapes him. “Send me their info, I want a brand deal.”

Phew. Looks like he believes you.

“Not a chance,” You retort.

“Am I interrupting something…?”

Your attention relocates to the doorway. Looks like Sho’s back.

“No, you're saving me. NPC tried molesting me, can you believe that?” Leo lies, feigning a pitiful tone.

The cogs in your head turn and you belatedly recall that you're straddling the whiney influencer.

You scramble off his lap and get to your feet.

Sho places a hand on his hip, shooting his vice-captain a skeptical look. “I don't believe you.”

Leo stands and brushes himself off. “That's ‘cause you're no better than the himbo.”

Sho seems to take notice of the state of the kitchen and gestures towards the fridge, his expression bewildered. “And what the hell happened here?”

“You're looking at the work of this clutz,” Leo fibs, jabbing his thumb in your direction.

“Bullshit,” You argue. “He told me to use that stool and it's broken!”

Sho gives Leo a precarious look. “C’mon man, you knew that was broken. You owe me another bag of flour.”

Rather than arguing, Leo just shrugs and makes his way towards the counter. “What a whole five-hundred Yen? Worth it.”

“Clean it up, at least,” Sho demands.

Leo pulls his bowl back in front of him and picks up another round of noodles with his chopsticks. “Nope. I wasn't the one who spilled it.”

Sho frowns. “Are you being for real? I'm not making (Y/N) do it. She's gotta be bruised to shit from that.”

Leo noisily slurps up his noodles. He takes his time chewing and swallowing before replying again. “Sucks to suck.”

Sho browbeats Leo with a hard stare as he continues to eat. The vice-captain stares at him back with an unbothered expression.

“...”

Sho gives up after a few moments and lets out an exasperated sigh. He makes his way over to the broken stool and picks it up to move it out of the way. “...One day someone's gonna beat your ass and I won't cover for you.”

Leo ignores him and pulls out his phone, setting it on the counter to find something to entertain himself while he finishes his food.

Sho grabs a broom and dustpan that's hanging on the wall and begins sweeping up the flour.

“Hey, let me help,” You offer, making your way over to him.

Sho laughs and shoots you a dubious look. “After the demon here nearly caused a concussion?”

Leo begins loudly playing a video that has a familiar instrumental on it. You talk over it.

“But I technically spilled it,” You point out.

Sho shakes his head as he collects a pile of flour with the broom. “Don't sweat it. You didn't hit your head did you?”

“No, I'm okay! Just a little bruising.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when the audio of someone speaking on Leo's video reaches your ears. It's a voice you're all too familiar with.

The voice modulation for your Vtuber avatar.

Sho scoops up a sizable pile of the flour and dumps it out into a nearby trash can. “Once I clean up I can show you how to make the dough. It's super simple.”

Sho does a brief explanation of the process of making the curry bread dough, but you're far too preoccupied with Leo watching one of your videos right in front of the two of you to pay attention.

Is Leo a fan of yours? It seemed unlikely. You could only imagine the kind of shit he'd say about Vtubers. He always had some negative commentary about people that didn't show their face online when it came to hate.

“...Sound good, (Y/N)?” Sho asks.

The sound of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah… sounds good,” You answer, your gaze still locked on Leo.

The vice-captain doesn't seem to notice your staring. With his eyes trained on the screen of his phone, he abruptly rises from his seat, taking the bowl and chopsticks with him. You watch him throw the tableware haphazardly into the kitchen sink, without rinsing it, before he leaves the room altogether.

Sho finishes up sweeping the last of the mess and dumps it in the garbage bin. “Alright, let me wash my hands and we'll get started.”

“...Yeah.”

–

So, Leo watches your videos.

When you get home later that afternoon, you spend time putting extra soundproof foam up in your room. The issue is, it's not foolproof against Leo's stigma unless you cover every inch of the walls and you only have so much. You decide you'll just continue to make an effort to record on rainy days, if at all possible. Even if Leo happens to over hear, you could just say you were watching your videos, right?

All you know is that he's the last person that should find out about your identity. You can only imagine how much he would dangle that over your head to get you to do his bidding.

Once you dress down and get cozy on your bed, you start doing research for your next video again. Not even an hour later, firechicken22 sends you a message on Snapchat.

[Omg did u see that kodiakmiller started more drama?]

[I was actually just reading an article on that.]

[U probably can already guess but half the shit she says is complete bs. That bitch just virtue signals 2 get attention.]

[I kind of figured that based on the patterns of behavior. I'll keep that in mind when I record.]

You watch firechicken22 type for a little longer than usual before another message comes in.

[Am I the only influencer u talk to?]

[Would you be jealous if I said no? 😏]

[Lol nah. I would tell u to be cautious w em tho cuz most r two faced.]

[And you're an exception?]

[No lol.]

[...At least you're honest about it, I suppose. Should I worry about you doxxing me? 🤔]

[Nah. If I wanted 2 kno ur identity I could find out if I rly wanted to.]

[Oh? You're a tech guy?]

[Thats one way to put it lol. Anyway i already shit talked ppl ik to u. If u wanted u could easily blackmail me. :P]

[Do you talk to influencers outside of collabs?]

[Nah. Just you. 😘]

[Influencer is a generous word for me, haha. Anyway, why me?]

[Hm…]

You watch the ‘typing…’ text pop up again as you wait for an explanation.

[Bc u couldnt b more different than me ig]

[Really? We seem to have stuff in common.]

[Lol ur so cute]

[🤔]

[Anyway meant 2 ask. U got anymore brand deals w clothing companies?]

[Only a newer brand called modflavor. I should be receiving mail from them within the next day or two.]

[Wanna put in a good word for me w Kimyou? 🥺🩷]

That feels familiar. Where have you heard that before?

[Wouldn't I need to know your identity for that?]

[If u knew would u do it? :P]

[I don't see why not. The worst they could do is not reach out.]

Firechicken22 stops messaging for the moment. So, you continue your video research for the time being. Maybe two minutes later you receive a Snapchat, but this time it's an image. You open it.

Skin is the first thing you notice– clear and pale. An exposed collar bone, exposed torso in general. He appears to be posed over the edge of a tub. Your eyes wander up towards firechicken22's face. Soft features, gold eyes, gray hair, smug grin, cute.

Your phone slips from your grip and comes crashing against the bridge of your nose. But you don't even register the pain.

You've been messaging Leo?!

Did he know it was you? Was he just fucking with you? Some of your exchanges with him even bordered on flirtatious. And you admittedly had been having fun messaging him.

… But it wouldn't make sense that he knows, because he's been talking shit about other creators on the platform. And Leo also knows you've been trying to find a way to get back at him for all the bullshit.

…

And maybe this would be the perfect opportunity.

Leo seems to like your content because it's a condensed and unbiased way to consume news. And for whatever reason he seems to like you as a person. But it's not like you act any differently in real life, so why the sudden flip of a switch when you're a stranger?

Another message notification rings audibly. You pick up your phone to view it.

[Heeello…? Don't tell me u have beef with me lol.]

That's right. Snapchat notifies when you open messages and it's probably been a solid two minutes since you've viewed his photo. You decide you'll play dumb.

[No, sorry! I was just trying to recall your name! ☺️ I know I've seen your content around. You're Leo Kurosagi, right?]

[Yup]

[No wonder you're interested in fashion, you always look so stylish. 😊]

[Thx u do too lol 💕]

[That's only because of the brand deals, haha. Don't worry, I'll put a good word in for you with Kimyou. 😊🩷]

[Ur the best 😘. I'll give u a shout-out on my next stream. 🫰🏻]

[Thank you. 😇 You're kind of sassy on your streams, but I feel like I've seen a sweeter side of you through text messages.]

Laying it on thick.

You sometimes watched Leo before you ever came to Darkwick, but never recently. Not since you learned how self-centered he really is.

[Wow, u down bad for me already?]

You would have assumed before the face reveal that firechicken22 is just teasing. But knowing Leo, he's probably egotistical enough to actually think that. You decide to let him have the compliment he's probably fishing for.

[You're very cute, but I'm not swayed that easily.]

[Give it time I could change ur mind 😏]

Why's he being so forward? Leo seems like a shallow person and he doesn't even know what you look like. It could be that he's just toying with you.

[Pffft, we'll see about that. Anyway, I'm going to do more research before bed. Unfortunately I'm a little behind. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Leo. 😊]

[Boooo. 😮‍💨 K I'll ttyl.]

[Goodnight!]

You close the Snapchat app and work on sending an email to Kimyou regarding Leo's recommendation. Afterwards, you'll plot your next move against the sneaky influencer.

–

A couple days pass. You and Leo talk over Snapchat every afternoon and into the evening, while your in-person interactions remain unpleasant as usual. Your text conversations become more personal as you learn more about each other. Leo divulges details about his family and upbringing– things you've never been privy to before. He also asks you a variety of things whenever he wants to keep the conversation going.

You wonder if he really doesn't talk to anyone in his private life like this. Sho seems to know him best, but their interactions are more impersonal, even when Leo isn't treating him like a servant. In a weird way, you feel honored that he seems to trust you enough to confide in you about the little things.

Unfortunately for Leo, that didn't change the fact that you still held a grudge towards him and his reign of terror.

You still had yet to decide how you're going to get back at him, though. It wouldn't be through exposing anything incriminating of him online. Leo knew his way around a computer and you're sure he could identify you anytime if he really wanted to. He would only be more inclined to expose your secret if you did something to alter his reputation.

No, you had to think bigger.

Would it be possible to get him attached enough that if you ghosted it would hurt him?

…It's an idea.

Three days after the night you found out Leo's identity, your modflavor package arrives that afternoon. Since you've got a decent outline of news highlights, you decide it would be a good time to record a video and add a sponsorship segment.

It's a rainy day, so you don't have to sweat the off chance that Leo's lurking around.

You record the news part first to get it over with and then take a short break to message back Leo.

[Ughhhhhh i hate the rain]

[Really? I find it relaxing.]

[It's noisy 😒 wyd?]

[I'm recording! My modflavor haul came in, so I'm about to try stuff on.]

[Fr? Show me.]

You take a photo of some of the outfits lined up on your bed and send it.

[I'm not going to wear all of these, though. The slip dress looks like it'd be revealing if I can't find anything to put under it.]

[Try it on n I'll let u know]

… Leo wants you to take a photo in it?

He did send you a photo in the tub for his reveal didn't he?

It's probably against your better judgement, but you change into the dress.

As you suspected, it is a little revealing. It's a deep red color with a low collar that exposes a decent amount of cleavage. Overall, the dress hugs your body in a flattering way.

Making sure to move your hair out of the frame, you sit on the bed cross-legged and take several photos from the neck down. In a burst of confidence you pick the sexiest looking one and send it.

It takes a minute, but Leo replies.

[Need more angles than that. :P]

… Did he, though?

You get up from the bed and walk over to your wooden full-body mirror hanging on the wall. Leo's never been in your room and has no reason to be, so you're not worried about him recognizing your surroundings. In spite of that, you very carefully take more photos of your dress at different angles without showing your face, or much background. You send them afterward.

[Looks good on u. 😘 If u got a black turtleneck and black belt wear it.]

You hate the way your heart skips a beat.

[I'll look! So it's a no go if I can't find them?]

[Yep it will look cuter accessorized. I can even send u some stuff.]

[Oh, like links?]

[No like literally lol]

Leo's offering to get you stuff?

Totally unexpected, but either way you'll have to decline. When packages are sent into Darkwick, they all use a similar address. The campus cats make the deliveries to the dorms from there using the student's names.

[I don't have a PO box set up yet. I'm sure you understand! The thought is very appreciated, though. 😳]

[Lmk when u do]

[You're sweet when you want to be. 🥰 I'll talk to you here soon, I've got to finish recording.]

[I'll watch when it drops]

[A dedicated fan. 🤭]

[Not to mention one of the first lol]

Really…? You'd have to fact check that, but you do recall seeing his screen name a while back.

[I'm flattered. 🥺 🫶]

[U should be :P]

You're pretty sure you might have the items Leo mentioned in your wardrobe, but you decide not to wear that dress for the video. The filming of the try on haul doesn't take long, but you spend some time editing it and end up uploading late.

Leo texts you goodnight before you ever manage to get back to him.

–

Over a week goes by before you have any notable in-person interactions with Leo.

Subaru invites you to eat lunch with him on a bench outside Sho’s food truck. The both of you ordered beef soboro.

You open the still warm container in your lap as you sit to the left of Subaru. “Looks as good as it smells!”

“It does,” Subaru agrees wholeheartedly. He breaks the poached egg on top with his chopsticks and begins mixing it. “He always goes the extra mile with the garnishes, doesn't he?”

“Mmmhm, it's no wonder he's gotten so popular.” You break your disposable chopsticks apart and glance up at the long line forming outside the truck. It's a good thing you guys came early.

Subaru nods and tilts his head in your direction. “It's been a while since we've been able to sit down and chat like this. How have you been faring? Anything new?”

“I've been good. Not a whole lot has happened recently.”

Not that you can talk about anyway.

“At least I'm not subjected to the demon this week,” You add.

Subaru's expression turns sympathetic. “Ah, yes. He was causing you some problems last week, I heard. I'm sorry you had to go through that, he can be very…” The Hotarubi Captain looks towards the food on his lap as he searches for a delicate way to put it.

“A piece of shit?” You offer bluntly, as you mix your own food.

Subaru laughs. “I wasn't going to say it, but… there is no gentle way to describe it.”

“Yeah, I've certainly never encountered anyone like him in my life. He's seriously one of the most self-centered people I've ever had the displeasure of knowing,” You rant bitterly. “How does one even acquire such a rotten personality?”

“Well… perhaps trouble with homelife growing up. Maybe some level of neglect, skewed ideals, or lack of positive reinforcement,” Subaru suggests coolly.

You wonder if that is the case. Leo told you about his family over Snapchat, but not anything inherently indicative of neglect.

The Hotarubi Captain continues. “Although, some people have a lack of social empathy without any direct cause. I don't want to make any baseless accusations, but there are some people that bully others due to suppressed feelings of inadequacy. They may even try to keep people at an arm's length, so they don't have to deal with the complications that come with forming attachments.”

The hand holding your chopsticks stills.

You consider the complexities behind the idea for a brief moment. It’s a lot to unpack for baseless speculation and the last thing you want to do is feel sorry for the jackass. “...I don't think that jerk can form bonds like a normal person anyway. He's a lost cause.”

Although you've been flirting with him over text and becoming a friend of his anonymously, you don't anticipate him getting that attached. If you ghosted him today, you're certain he'd be petty and angry for maybe a day before moving on. Even then, it would be over a bruised ego, not a lost contact.

“Perhaps you're correct. You know him better than I, after all,” Subaru replies with a smile.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while to eat your food. At some point you open up your phone and scroll funny Instagram reels. You find one that makes you laugh out loud, piquing the captain's curiosity. So, Subaru can get a better view of your screen, you scoot closer on the bench to watch together.

While the two of you begin yucking it up, you fail to notice another student approaching you. You're in the middle of a particularly amusing reel involving a cat with the zoomies, when someone abruptly wedges in between you and Subaru.

“--Hey…!” You yelp.

“Geez NPC. Didn't you see my jacket at the end of the bench?” Leo jeers as he settles himself on the seat, effectively ceasing your interaction with Subaru. “I had this spot saved.”

You frown, barely sparing a glance at said jacket before glaring daggers at the vice-captain. Instinctively, you scoot back so your thighs aren't up against Leo's. “Saving spots? What are you twelve? If it was that important, you wouldn't have left it!”

Subaru scoots to the other end, appearing a little meek at the new development. “O-Oh! Hello, Kurosagi. How are you?” The captain forces a smile.

Leo's eyes shift to Subaru and he gives him a look that can only be described as bitchy. “Oh, it's you,” He says, as if he hadn't noticed the captain before cramming himself on the bench. Leo equips a fake smile of his own, but it's far icier. “Wow, you're so desperate that you're kicking it with this nobody? Your looks must not be enough to keep the baddies interested. That skittish personality of yours is kind of a turn-off, I guess.”

Subaru's jaw goes slack at the casual verbal assault. The captain's cheeks turn red as the insinuation settles in and his violet eyes dart towards the ground. “...Say what you want about me, but (Y/N) is very interesting and pretty.”

Your cheeks flush at Subaru's words.

“...Hah. Eat shit, Leo,” You manage, internally swallowing your embarrassment.

Leo looks at you and his lip curls back in disdain. Surprisingly, he doesn't acknowledge your taunt. Instead, he returns his attention to Subaru. “By the way,” Leo starts, his lips pulling into a tight-lipped, saccharine, smile. “I passed that werewolf kid on the way here. He's standing at the front entrance of the academy and he's looking for you. Said something about his voice command password for his ipad not working? I'm assuming it's ‘cause whatever he was trying to pronounce sounded like gibberish.”

Subaru's face falls. “Again?” The captain sighs and closes up his unfinished container of food before standing. He shoots you a skeptical glance. “Would you mind if I go check on him?”

You shake your head fervently. “No, it's okay! Take your time!”

Subaru's lips curl up pleasantly. “Okay. Maybe we can try again on Monday?”

“Sure! Sounds good to–”

“Ugh, just go already, will you? If I hear any more of this sappy shit I'm going to barf,” Leo complains as he looks up from his phone to sneer at Subaru.

“Leo!” You bark in irritation.

Subaru waves his hands in a placating gesture. “N-No! It's fine (Y/N), truly. I'll message you.”

Before you can say anything more, Subaru is scurrying off.

You turn your head to glare at Leo. “What the actual fuck is your problem?”

The vice-captain leans back on the bench with his legs stretched out, as he taps away at the keyboard on his phone. “What?” He plays dumb, not sparing you a glance.

“Why were you being a dick to him? And did you actually run into Lyca?”

Leo shrugs. “I just told the truth. Except for the werewolf thing.”

Your eyes narrow. “...You lied to make him go away?”

“Who knows?” Leo responds dismissively.

Deciding you lost your appetite; you close your container of food. “...Funny. Almost seems like you're jealous.”

“Of him?” Leo scoffs, jumping to the conclusion. “As if there's anything to be jealous of. He's only relevant to a select community of people.”

You roll your eyes. “That's not what I meant.”

Leo's brow creases. His gaze slowly shifts back to meet yours. For a split second you swear he looks miffed, but he quickly recovers with another fake smile.

“...You?” The vice-captain throws his head back and barks out an obnoxious laugh. “Be fucking for real, Honor Roll. You're not even a little close to meeting my standards.”

You squint at him suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Homely, boring, a buzz kill, useless, annoying.” Leo holds out a finger every time he lists a new insult. “Uptight, brainless, a clutz, obvious surface flaws.”

He's literally just spewing shit now. Somehow, you're not that bothered by it for once. But if Leo's so insistent on you being inadequate for him, you decide you'll begin your revenge arc starting tonight. You wouldn't want to disappoint him if he knew the truth, after all.

Sike.

“You know what? I could say the same for you. You're far below my standards too. I don't need to list the reasons, everyone knows you're insufferable,” You quip rigidly.

Leo sticks out his tongue childishly. “At least I can get a date.”

“Oh? Well, Subaru asked me to go out with him next weekend on an off-campus trip,” You divulge.

Leo rolls his eyes. “And what? Do a mission? Hardly an advance.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “Well, he referred to it as a date.”

A fib, really. Subaru did invite you out to a theme park because he already had business in the area and wanted to spend time together. Lyca even managed to get a permit to come along, so it couldn't be considered a date. You don't clarify that, though.

Leo’s lips twitch faintly. After a few seconds he rises from his seat. The vice-captain pockets his phone and turns heel but pauses to spare you a parting glance. “Good luck with all that. Make sure to wear a full face of makeup. It's the only way you'll stand a chance at keeping his interest, uggo.”

“Uh huh,” You respond, your tone unimpressed.

Just as Leo's leaving, you notice the jacket he mentioned earlier on the edge of the bench. It's white with blue patches on the elbows. Without warning, you pick it up and toss it at him. A sleeve wraps around his shoulder, just barely hanging on for dear life. He grabs the fabric before it drops to the floor and examines it curiously.

“Your jacket?” You say.

“...Yup,” He confirms belatedly.

Leo doesn't put it back on. You watch him sling it over his shoulder as he exits the scene.

–

Later that evening, you text ‘firechicken22’.

[Hey. Are you going to the Sumidagawa festival? I know it's popular with influencers.]

[Maybe lol. All depends.]

[On?]

[Are u going?]

[Depends.]

[??]

[Do you want to meet up with me, if I do? 😊]

You knew that Leo had a good chance of getting the permit to leave for it, considering he's vice-captain. For this event, a lot of permits were being granted to Darkwick students that have been proactive with missions. You even were offered one for this festival because of your hard work lately. Of course, you didn't intend on actually going.

[Yea I do. Meet up w me in the afternoon. The fireworks show doesnt start til 7 but we can visit stalls.]

[Oh, you really want to? 🥺]

[Yep wanna c u irl 🙈💕]

Ugh… why is this sociopathic demon randomly cutesy?

[You might be disappointed if that's the goal.]

[Nah I wont be lol]

[Hah. What makes you so sure?]

Leo types for a little longer than usual before getting back to you.

[Well if u were a total catfish id still b ur friend lol]

This is a side of Leo that you're totally familiar with. He's unapologetically admitting that you may not fit his standards in appearance. There's no doubt in your mind he's genuinely expressing some level of romantic interest here.

[Implying you're into me? 🤔]

[Thought i made that obvious lol]

[...Obvious isn't a word I'd use to describe you, haha. You type with a lot of hearts when responding to comments too. And you're a bit of a shit talker, so I wasn't sure.]

[I dont talk to ppl online a lot like this. Ur the first.]

And you believe that. You're sure now that Leo doesn't talk to any one person as frequently as he has been with you the last two weeks.

Oh, well. You're still going to ditch him.

[Me neither! But it's been fun. 😇 I'll text you tomorrow, okay? I'm probably going to fall asleep here soon.]

[K 🩷]

[Goodnight. 😴]

–

“Kaito…? What are you doing here?”

It's the afternoon of the fireworks festival and you're in the casino VIP room helping resolve scheduling conflicts for Romeo on his laptop. Kaito just walked in wearing the official wait staff uniform. He's holding a silver tray filled with drinks in one hand and the door with the other.

“(Y/N)?” Kaito blinks, seemingly perplexed by your appearance. His face flushes pink and he averts his gaze. “I uh… that psycho said I could pay back some of my debt if I helped him out today.”

You nod in understanding. “That tracks.”

As much as you want to sympathize with Kaito, he's really just digging his own grave by actively borrowing money from Romeo of all people.

“So what are yo– Hey…!”

Taiga shoulders past Kaito, grabbing a drink filled with brown liquid from the tray as he passes. He makes a beeline for the couch you're on and a toothy grin splits his face when he spots you.

“Hey, it's the kitty cat~”

Taiga plops down not too far from you and takes a swig of his drink. He haphazardly sets the glass on the edge of a coaster. You watch it begin to tip, so you hastily lean forward and adjust it properly to avoid a spill.

You can only assume he recognizes you right away because you passed him earlier.

“Hey, Taiga,” You greet him, before your gaze relocates to Kaito.

The blonde walks in your direction and sets the silver tray of drinks on the coffee table in front of you. “Uh, Lucci asked me to walk him here…” Kaito explains nervously, his blue eyes darting from Taiga and back to you.

The captain is already distracted and leaning forward in preparation to shuffle a deck of cards.

“Were you winning too many games again?” You ask the Sinostra captain in a playful tone.

Taiga clicks his tongue. He tents the corners of two cuts of the deck together in a riffle shuffle. “Somethin’ crawled up his ass today. I wasn't gonna listen to him bitch anyway.”

“I understand.” You glance back up to Kaito. “You still owe Romeo from the last time?”

Kaito furrows his brow and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I had the money, but I left it in my jacket, and I can't find it.”

“That sucks. Maybe it's somewhere obvious,” You suggest. “Did you try retracing your steps?”

“I tore apart my room already. Last place I remember having it was outside Sho’s food truck on the bench.” Kaito rakes a hand through his hair in distress. “Checked there yesterday though, no luck.”

“I was just there yesterday during lunch! What did it look like?”

The blonde gives you a piteous look. “White with blue patches.”

…Isn't that what the jacket Leo took looked like?

“Anyway, it's good seeing you (Y/N). I'm gonna get back to work before that guy starts spamming me.” Kaito flashes you an upbeat grin and waves, before pivoting to leave.

“See you later!” You call back.

You redirect your attention back to Romeo's laptop. That is, until your phone pings multiple times at your side.

You slide down your notification bar and can't help the grin that tugs at the corner of your mouth as you catch Leo asking about your whereabouts. You don't open the messages.

Today is a good day.

“Kitty, play blackjack with me.”

You turn your attention to Taiga, your lips pulling into an apologetic smile. “Romeo asked that I adjust his staff schedule for him and I'm not quite finished.”

“Do it later.”

“If he walks in and catches us when I'm not done, he's going to have a cow,” You reason.

Taiga deals you two cards anyway. “Nah, he's brown-nosing a big shot right now. ‘Sides, I won't tell if you won't.” The captain throws a wink your way.

You can't help but express amusement at his antics. Deciding to entertain him for the moment, you set your laptop aside with your phone and scoot closer to the table. “I'll need a refresher on the rules though. And no betting real money.”

Taiga reaches forward to grab his drink again. He takes another swig of it, before dropping it back on its coaster, this time centered.

“Fine by me. We got time.”

–

You stay at the casino until around seven in the evening before heading back home in the pouring rain. It's a good thing you remembered to bring your umbrella with you. The thought crosses your mind that tonight would be a good time to record a video.

Leo didn't continue to message you after the first string of texts, and you still had yet to open Snapchat. The fact that he didn't seem that desperate for your attention helped you feel less guilty about the whole thing. Not that you felt bad…

Leo's ego is probably just slightly bruised, and he'll get over it.

Once you enter the cathedral and make your way up the staircase, you immediately notice several strange things. The door to your room is cracked open and the lights are on. And you couldn't hear it downstairs because of the rain and the soundproof foam you have up, but music is playing audibly too.

…Who the hell could be in your room?

The only person to ever enter without warning was Jiro. And he wouldn't be here at this time– certainly not blasting electro-pop music.

Should you call someone to scope out the building? Is it safe to enter?

A familiar voice reaches your ears and it's enough to dissipate any looming sense of dread that had settled in your gut seconds before. You decidedly march to the top of the stairs and fling open the door to your room.

A body lays sprawled out on your couch, reading a book that's inadvertently concealing their face. You recognize the paperback as one of your manga volumes that had been collecting dust for some time. Not a second after the door makes contact with the wall, the book lowers.

Shit.

Leo smirks and tosses the volume carelessly on the coffee table in front of him. For reasons unbeknownst to you, he's wearing a set of headphones despite the music playing in the background. The vice-captain leisurely sits up and pulls them down to rest around his neck. He reaches for the stereo remote and lowers the music to where it sounds like a quiet lull.

You hear yourself gulp.

“You're out late, huh?” Leo's jaw shifts like he's chewing something.

Maybe he doesn't know. Act normal.

You frown and manage a steady tone. “What the hell are you doing here, Kurosagi? And how'd you get in?”

“You left it unlocked, duh,” Leo replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “And I just wanna talk, that's all.”

You slowly walk over to a nearby end table and set your keys down. “I never leave my door unlocked.”

Leo's eyes crinkle at the corners, his lips curling into a delighted smile. “No? You sure did this time.”

You narrow your eyes at him and redirect the topic. “What do you want to talk about? Make it quick, I'm tired.”

Leo rises from his spot on the couch. You instinctively take a step back and almost hit the wall, despite being on the other side of the room. If he noticed, he doesn't comment on it.

“I was just wondering about your friend that works for Kimyou,” The vice-captain explains innocently, his hand moving in an animated gesture. You watch him walk around, his eyes shifting to different areas of the room. “They got socials?”

You cross your arms over your chest, making a point to stay where you're at. “Even if they did, I wouldn't tell you.”

“Why not?” Leo walks up to the back wall and prods at a piece of foam hanging up. A red sphere of gum inflates from his mouth into the size of a tennis ball before bursting. “I thought we were just starting to be chummy too.”

“That's a crock of shit and you know it. I can't stand you. Also, don't move that!”

“Relax, NPC. I was just looking at the type of acoustic foam you have up. It's good quality, I've used this brand when I lived in a studio apartment.” Leo raps his knuckles against the textured surface and his gilt eyes meet yours again. “You sure have a lot of it, though. What for?”

Your stomach churns uneasily. “...Isn't it obvious? Your nosey ass snoops around all the time.”

Leo tents his brows, his expression skeptical. “Just for me, huh? This quantity can't be cheap for a regular Darkwick student.”

“I have savings,” You counter, holding your ground. “Anyway, you asked what you wanted. You know where the door is.”

“I still have more questions.”

“They can wait until tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Because I'm not in the mood. You came in unannounced!” You near shout as your patience wavers.

“Exactly. You would have been way more assertive with escorting me out if it were as simple as that,” Leo accuses as he steps a little closer to you.

You hold your position, unmoving. “What are you implying?”

“While you were out, I took the liberty of doing a little digging.”

Leo knows.

You roll your eyes in an attempt to hide your crumbling nerves. “Digging? What are you on about?”

“Where to start…” Leo taps his chin thoughtfully. Following a brief pause, his features brighten, like he had an epiphany. “Did you know that even if you use a VPN, if you have access to your location enabled on other devices it's sort of a dead giveaway? You should, if you're posting online and all.”

Fuck.

“Posting online?” You feel the palms of your hands begin to sweat. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I had my suspicions when I saw that bracelet. Not to mention every time that you've posted recently, it just so happens to be when it rains,” The vice-captain takes a few steps closer, until he's only a few meters away. Placing a hand on his hip, his eyes scan ambiguously over your form. “And those photos you sent me? You didn't even notice that you caught the beginning stages of bruising on your leg, right after your little tumble at Vagastrom. Then of course, there's that tacky looking mirror in here that’s a carbon copy of the one in the photos.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Your voice betrays you by cracking.

“Oh come off it! You're caught red-handed, so don't act all shy on me now.” Leo laughs derisively. “Tell me why you sent me those suggestive photos. Was it to seduce me? I really didn't think you had it in you. I mean, that takes guts considering how unappealing you are in real life.”

And suddenly you remember just why you took it this far.

You ball your fists up at your side as anger buries any and all feelings of disquiet. “Yeah? If I'm so unappealing, then why have you even entertained talking to me, dumbass?”

Leo squints at your comment, his phoney cheerful demeanor not faltering. “Maybe I just felt sorry for you. You ever consider that?”

“You're full of shit, Kurosagi. If that were the case you wouldn't have told me so much personal stuff or even messaged me in the first place!”

Leo pauses, giving you a sideways look. “All that personal shit may as well be fabricated. I could have been playing you the whole time.”

“I recognized that screen name of yours when you messaged me. You've been a viewer for months, so I don't buy it,” You argue. “What do you even hope to gain by coming here?”

“What made you decide it was a brilliant idea to ask me out just to ghost me?” Leo throws back at you, deflecting the question.

You clench your jaw. “I asked first.”

He scoffs. “Like I care.”

An exasperated sigh escapes you. “Obviously it was to get back at you for being an asshole!”

“Oh?” Leo raises an eyebrow, his expression tickled. “You think you hurt my feelings? That's rich, Honor Roll.”

“What did you really come here for?” You try again. “If you found my IP, it's irrefutable. So what's the point? And don't even try to blackmail me either, because I got shit on you too now, Kurosagi!”

Rather than deflecting with more insults, Leo shifts his stance and stares at you like he's deliberating something. After a few beats he speaks.

“Okay, I'll bite. Let's say I enjoyed your company. Maybe even though I suspected your identity a few days into chatting, I wanted to test the waters. So maybe I didn't bother verifying.”

Your stomach flips when Leo begins to saunter towards you. Unconsciously, you find yourself taking another step back.

The vice-captain stops two feet away from you, his jaw moving visibly as the gum shifts around in his mouth. His lips are tinted red and a little swollen, like he just got done eating something hot. A bitter smirk paints his soft features. “I wanted to see if you'd actually show. And when you decided to ditch without a word, I wasn't entirely surprised. You knew I had the means to find out your identity if I wanted to.”

You did know there was a possibility he'd confront you. The idea wasn’t intimidating enough to stop you from doing it.

“Almost like you wanted to fight with me about it.” Leo's eyes crinkle with mirth as he tosses a cat-like grin your way. “Fess up. Do you like our little disputes, Honor Roll?”

The teasing tone he uses inadvertently sends heat crawling up your neck.

You consider the question. It's not like it's one that hasn't crossed your mind before. Some part of you finds the conflict entertaining, but not when he involves Lyca or any of your friends. And his mean comments do get under your skin sometimes… But could you rightfully say you hated him for it?

“I could ask the same thing to you,” You reply with a smirk of your own. “You're the one bringing it up, maybe it's projection.”

“And what if I do think it's fun?” Leo admits readily. “Judging by your reaction, I think we're on the same page.”

The vice-captain takes another step towards you and loops an arm around your waist. You suck in a sharp breath of air as his free hand cups the side of your neck and his thumb brushes against your throat.

“H-Hey…!“ You press your palms instinctively against his chest, but for reasons you can't pinpoint, you don't shove him away. His cologne swarms your senses– earthy and a little floral. The sudden, non-hostile, proximity makes you feel a little dizzy.

Rain begins to pummel relentlessly against the roof. It's so deafening that if Leo wasn’t so close, his next words might be difficult to pick up.

“I guess you're not half bad now that I get a better look at you. It's a shame you've got the personality of a wet blanket,” Leo drawls, with a notable lack of animosity in his tone.

Your nerves catch on fire when his hand shifts to cup your jaw unexpectedly.

What the hell is he doing?

Leo's grip isn't restricting your movements by much. In fact, you're sure you could get out of this if you really wanted to. Why did his hands have to feel so soft? The warmth he's radiating is so inviting that you're tempted to lean into his touch. Maybe the cold weather is influencing this senseless feeling.

“...Yeah, you should find it really embarrassing that you carried an ‘NPC’ through so many lengthy conversations,” You bite back, your fingers curling against his shirt. “It must have been like talking to a brick wall.”

Leo's thumb brushes against your bottom lip. “Why do you think I'm really here? I need to make sure you keep that info under wraps somehow. A gossip blog highlighting that loser shit would ruin my reputation.”

“Pffft…” A snicker bubbles up from your mouth from his banter. “Wait until they hear about you touching up on me too. That would be so humiliating.”

“Oh, well.” Leo smirks. “I'll adjust the narrative in my favor.”

Thunder claps outside, loud enough that objects in your room shake with the reverberation.

The abruptness is enough to startle anyone out of their skin, but for some reason neither of you move. Maybe it's because your heart is hammering in your chest so violently that you hear it over everything else. And you might be mistaken, but you're pretty sure you feel Leo's beating just as desperately through the fabric of his shirt. His cheeks are flushed pink, and his gaze lingers on your lips, but he seems to be hesitantly dancing around an idea.

You're not sure how the two of you ended up in this predicament, or why he's even reacting like this. What you do know is that Leo's unusual display of nervousness is fueling your own ego for once. You decide to voice your hunch and accept the inevitable repercussions.

“I must not be that unappealing if you're staring at me like that. Don't tell me that after all that shit talking you’ve never kissed anyone?”

Leo's brow creases in annoyance. “Of course I've kissed people before, just not–...” The vice-captain cuts himself off and averts his gaze.

Now, that's a look you could get used to.

“...Just not?” You press in amusement.

Leo huffs, his eyes meeting yours again– this time with determination. “Ugh. Just shut up, Honor Roll.”

The vice-captain leans in, slanting his mouth at an angle and you accept the advance. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips meld into yours.

Butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach as you return the kiss. And despite the well anticipated crash landing, his lips are quick to move against yours with urgency– robbing you of the courtesy of easing into a rhythm. Seeing as how everything with Leo has always been an uphill battle, it's nothing you weren't used to.

You adapt, reciprocating with an intensity that mirrors his own. A tingling sensation begins to linger around your mouth the longer the kissing continues, but it's so mild that you dismiss it unthinkingly. Leo's arm tightens around your waist, and you're pulled right up against him. You decide that the plush feeling of his lips on yours is one you could easily get addicted to.

At some point Leo separates, just barely. His fingers dig into your cheeks, and he regards you with a half-lidded gaze.

“Open,” He demands, his hot breath ghosting over your lips.

The sudden verbal request throws you off guard. Your first instinct is to question him, but you fold after a brief standstill. His tongue delves past your parted lips, and you feel the metal bar of his piercing clack noisily against the back of your teeth. The inflamed sensation you felt earlier only gets stronger as the kiss deepens, to the point where you decide to break away. Just as you're preparing to jerk your face from his, the vice-captain pushes the wad of gum he was chewing into your mouth.

You involuntarily catch it between your tongue and the roof of your mouth to prevent yourself from choking. It's only then that you realize what the burning sensation was from, as the center of your mouth catches on fire.

Leo's hand grazes your upper thigh right as you're extending your palms forward to push him away. The second your mouths disconnect, your hand covers your own, and you start coughing violently from the overload of capsaicin.

The vice-captain laughs obnoxiously at your expense as he steps back from you.

“LEO, COUGH…! WHAT THE…COUGH…! FUCK IS THAT?!”

Tears well up in your eyes and you bolt for trash. Leo continues speaking, but you're too focused on getting the gum out of your mouth to actually listen.

“Carolina Reaper flavor. Pffft, you look so red! Ahahaha…!”

Once you spit the gum into the garbage bin, you immediately head for the sink and fill a nearby glass with water. As you chug it, you remember the hard way that water can exacerbate inflammation, but your options are woefully limited right now. You stand at the sink for a while, drinking a couple of glasses until the sensation dissipates to a manageable level.

Following your recovery, you flip around to reprimand Leo, only to find him perched on the edge of your bed with a phone in his hand. The harsh words you had intended to throw at him die in your mouth when you notice the case of the phone. You pat your now empty pocket to confirm your suspicions.

That idiot had the gall to take your phone too?!

“What are you doing with that?” You hurry towards him as mild panic sets in.

Leo kicks his shoes off and slides farther back onto the bed, as if to give himself a few seconds longer to finish whatever it is that he's doing. “Just removing evidence, chill out.”

“Evidence?!” You repeat impatiently as you stop in front of the mattress. “Give it back.”

Leo plops his head down on one of your pillows. “Two seconds.”

“What the fuck do you mean two seconds? No!” You climb onto the bed and grip the edges of the case to pull it from him.

Thunder cracks outside again, but this time it takes the power with it. The lights in your room flicker for a split second, and then the room goes black entirely. You and Leo blink at each other in surprise, your faces illuminated somewhat by the natural light coming in through the window.

You sigh, your grip loosening on the phone in defeat. “Fuck. This is your fault.”

Leo scoffs. “The weather? Wrong vice-captain.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “My poor luck. I was going to record today.”

A weather alert notification rings loudly from your phone. You slide next to Leo to peer at the screen.

“Severe thunderstorm warning until midnight,” You read aloud. “The campus cats will promptly work to recover the power back in the dormitories. Darkwick staff strongly advises students to remain in their respective buildings for the time being… Shit.”

Without warning, Leo peels back your comforter and settles underneath it, making himself right at home. “Aaawh. Looks like you're stuck with me. Poor you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I could keep you downstairs too.”

Leo's lips pucker into a pout. “After getting the privilege to kiss me? Show some gratitude.”

“You spit hot ass gum into my mouth,” You deadpan.

“It's not even that hot. Not my fault you can't handle it,” Leo retorts.

You stare at the vice-captain for a moment. He looks cute cozied up under your sheets. For the time being, you forget about him messing around on your phone. You realize how confused you still are by the random shift in his actions. “...Why did you kiss me, though?”

Leo rolls on his right side and props his head in his hand as he looks up at you. “‘Cause I felt like it.”

His statement is resolute, yet still leaves more questions than answers.

You shake your head tiredly. “You're so confusing, seriously. Everything you say and do contradicts itself.”

“Maybe you just suck at reading me.”

“Or maybe you do it so I can't.”

The soft accusation makes Leo shut up for a few moments. His expression remains unreadable, and your phone still limply resides in his free hand.

“Get under the covers with me,” He demands, blatantly diverting the topic.

You feel your cheeks turn pink at the sudden request. “Nice cop out. I'm not going to do anything until you tell me exactly what you deleted on my phone.”

“I told you– evidence. Just anything that indicates I'm connected to that burner account.” Leo shrugs.

You raise an eyebrow at that. “I wouldn't have told on you. And you better not rat me out.”

Leo smirks impishly. “It's cold as shit in here, Honor Roll. Get under the covers and your secret is safe with me.”

You click your tongue and stand up to peel back the comforter. “Fine. But it has to be permanently safe if I agree now– no backtracking.”

“Cross my heart~” Leo assures.

You browbeat him for a moment. Once you determine he's being sincere, you slip underneath the covers next to him and prop your head up on a pillow. “I'm taking this back, though.” You grab your phone in his hand, and he lets go without a fight.

“Have it your way,” Leo acquiesces.

You begin checking your apps for any signs of tampering besides what the influencer admitted to. As you flick through tabs, you feel a weight settle against your chest. You redirect your attention to find Leo shamelessly cuddling up against you, his arm looping around your waist.

It's… stupidly cute.

Rather than drawing attention to it, you bury your muddled thoughts to resume the task at hand. You look around for a little longer and determine that Leo had indeed only deleted some messages. He probably knew you wouldn't really do anything anyway. Almost everything he did to annoy you ended up being a ploy for attention.

A message notification pops up from Subaru and you click on it.

[… Kurosagi?]

Huh?

There’s a text beforehand from Subaru and then one sent from your device.

[Hello, (Y/N)! I hope you're in your dorm safe in this weather. I just checked the forecast for next weekend and there is a high chance that it will be storming Saturday. Do you have any plans for Sunday? 😊]

[Sry bozo i have plans. 🤥 Dont bother asking me other days either. 💀 Mayb if sho feels bad 4 u he will cancel service so u dont have 2 contest a refund 🤣🤣🤣]

“Leo, what the fuck?”

A ghost of a smirk appears on the vice-captain's face. He doesn't need to ask what you found. “Hmm?”

“Do NOT text people on my phone without permission. Now I have to apologize! You being here at this time of night is going to look weird, you know?”

“You going on a date with a guy after making out with me is even weirder,” Leo counters, not bothering to lift his head. “He shouldn't be messaging you this late anyway.”

You did tell him it was a date when you were shit talking to each other. But you really don't have the energy to explain all that right now.

You type out a quick apology text to Subaru and set aside your phone.

Having Leo this close to you felt foreign, but it certainly isn't unwelcome. The cold rain harshly pelting the roof of your poorly insulated room feels even more serene when there's a warm body nestled against you. You experimentally run your fingers through Leo's hair to test the waters. A pleased hum reaches your ears amongst the ambient noise, wordlessly inviting you to continue.

You're not sure how your relationship with Leo will be after all this. Romantic? That's something you can't really picture. Not in the traditional sense.

You got yourself a little too involved with Darkwick's most difficult and bratty ghoul. Now you'd have to navigate the consequences that follow.

#tokyo debunker #fanfic #fan fiction #leo kurosagi #leo kurosagi/reader #leo kurosagi x reader

215 notes · View notes