#they both hate each other and are doing almost NOTHING to hide it

[tamtaco]

10 minutes doodle of what basically sums up their beef

[madamechrissy]

Worst Behavior

Art in the center by Houhai673 on lofter

pairings- stepbrother! Sukuna x f! Reader (lil bit of Toji/reader)

summary - Sukuna’s dad married your mom while you were in high school, and you hated each other on sight. He endlessly picked on and tortured you. So much so that he became a fucking YouTube sensation from prank videos starring you! You come back home for summer break after a bad breakup, and of course annoying ass Sukuna is there, with his stupid smirk, ready to pick on you again, only to be derailed when he sees you're going out with his old friend Toji for a date. Turns out, Sukuna has had it bad for you for a long time, and making you hate him was the only way to guarantee you stay far away, but can he keep up the act?

content/warnings - MDNI, tw- stepcest, lots of pining, kinda one-sided lol, Sukuna is an asshole to you, reader hates him. Enemies to ????- ton of sexual tension, jealous ass Sukuna. This chap - fingering, Toji saying what's up, Sukuna masturbating and being just depraved and pathetic tbh, panty stealing, taboo relationships

part two>>>

part one

It was junior year of high school when your mom remarried, and you can't forget that day, the first time you met that pretentious little shit Sukuna. Who was now your 'family' you guess?

He was a couple of years older, already in freshman year of college, he'd come home on break and torment you endlessly, a whole fucking bulky. He'd hide shit high where you can never reach it, jumpscare you constantly, woke you up to fuck with you, and even filmed his pranks and put them on YouTube.

The jerk was actually YouTube famous from the amount of pranks he'd pull and your golden reactions. A mix of throwing shit at him, cursing him out or smacking him while he held his phone and recorded it. There was no doubt in your mind you just hated the giant asshole of an older 'stepbrother’ you had.

Now you're graduating this year, back home for summer break, and luckily Sukuna almost never visits anymore. He's running his stupid YouTube channel and banking on it, on being a dumb little prankster for his millions of subscribers, so now he lives pretty far thank God.

Let him prank everyone else.

You both don't talk whatsoever aside from holidays and family functions, and then it's just Sukuna picking on you. Not much has changed in five years, maybe his tactics are better. A little sneakier.

You smile and hug your mom, and your step-dad. He's actually pretty fucking cool, and your mom and him are cute together. "Hey hunny, I'm so glad you're here!" Your mom is going on and on about a party she's throwing, as you settle into your room, nothing's changed really. Your mom keeps it all the same.

"Mom, you don't have to keep all this out," you tease, looking at your old posters that adorn the walls, scattered Polaroids pinned to your corkboard. "You could make it a guest room?"

"We have a guest room, we love having your stuff here. And Sukuna's room is the same."

"Ugh don't say his name, you'll summon him!" Your mom laughs a bit as you shiver in feigned disgust.

"He's family honey."

"Not even. I get dad, I really do, but I think Sukuna and I will never get along."

"Ah shit that hurts sis." You hear his pretentious voice and panic as he leans in the doorway, stupid fucking smirk on his far too attractive face. You glare at him.

"Yuck don't call me that, weirdo." He flips you off behind your mom's back, putting his hands away as your mom comes up and hugs him tightly. He smirks over her shoulder as you flip him off back. 

"She's so mean to me, why can't she be nicer like you," he pouts, and your mom laughs a bit, leaning on her tip toes to ruffle his light pink locks. 

"You're both mean to each other. Maybe a couple weeks at home will help you two learn to get along."

"He's staying for a couple weeks!? Ugh." You sigh and he scoffs. Your mom shakes her head and looks at you both.

"Dinner in thirty. Get settled and don't kill each other."

Sukuna eyes you then, ever so slowly up and down, while you start setting things down. "Really filled out huh?"

"I'll punch you." He grins again, you wall up and shove at him, pausing when you feel just how hard his chest is. Blushing a bit, he notices apparently, raising a brow.

"Feeling me up?"

"Gross no. Gym rat." He glares now and you smile right back.

"Yeah how's that loser boyfriend of yours?" He asks so casually. Walking in your room and touching all your shit like he does. You follow him and put everything back in its place as he skews every position of any item.

"We broke up," he pauses at your tone, eyeing you then. You're so pretty you make his heart pound in his chest, not like he'd ever fucking tell you. He calls you a gremlin and worse, knowing you're a whole knockout. "Yeah, rub it in."

"Wasn't gonna," you pause then, as his ruby eyes glint and catch yours. For a moment you see a rare softness in them, making you falter. "He got tired of your bitchiness?"

"Oh fuck off." You roll your eyes, sinking on the white day bed, hands brushing the soft sheets that smell like your mom's favorite fabric softener. But you also smell him, Sukuna, so manly and taking over your space, he leans on your dresser, eyeing a picture of you.

"What happened?"

"Like you care," you lay back, shorts sliding up your thighs. Revealing far, far too much skin, he barely tears his eyes away. "He left me for my best friend."

"Oh shit..." he doesn't know what to say, all he's ever done is pick on you, prank you. Be a whole ass. How does he... comfort you? Without getting too close, feeling shit he can't?

What you didn't realize, is Sukuna has had it bad for you for years now. He knows he can never act on it, so the next best thing was to make your life a living hell. To make you hate him and stay far, far away.

It worked, you hate him.

But it's still not enough to stop the raging thoughts always inside him, of the filthy things he thinks of when he's alone. Stroking his cock to memories of you rather than porn, finding himself comparing others to the traits he loves about you. Traits you'll never know.

He can never ever tell you.

"I've got a date this week though. Old friend of ours." You lean up on your elbows, eyeing him then. He feels that familiar pang of fucking jealousy he also can't feel, remembering the ridiculous amount of men he's chased off over the years.

"What old friend?" He asks curiously, you smile a little then.

"Toji. Weren't you two super close?"

"Toji!? You are not going out with Toji." You sit up and glare, Sukuna crosses his thick arms. "Absolutely not."

"I'm twenty one. I'll do what I want, but don't you like him?"

"Tch, you're such an annoying fucking brat," his words make you stand up, as he sets down your polaroid, it's a pretty picture that's always burned in his brain. You at the beach all happy and pretty, he'd been so hard that day he'd had to jerk it in the fucking bathroom stall.

Why do you have to be so pretty? It's so annoying, and your shit attitude. Toji would be all over you, he always found you hot, but he never dared make a move once Sukuna let him know you were off limits. Was Sukuna not as imposing now that he's a YouTube star? Toji acted as if he couldn't still beat his ass down.

“Put the picture back, you’re so weird.” He holds it up high, smirking down at you, while you jump up and try to grab it, his big grin growing on his face, while he runs around your room with it.

“Too short, aww.”

“Anyone is short you giant, lord of the rings ent.”

“Nerd!”

“Give it!” You’re bouncing again, and he’s far too enamored by your pretty tits jiggling for a moment, his hand falls as his eyes catch them, you snatch your picture up then. “Hah! Now go.”

“Like I wanna be in here.” He’s scowling as he walks out, you lock your door with a little click when Sukuna stands in front of it, sighing and resting his back on it.

Why is it worse than usual seeing you? Typically he could hold his composure somewhat, why do you have to smell so good and - 

Shit he needs to stop.

*****

Dinner with Sukuna is the worst. He's devouring everything on his plate before leaning over, starting to slam down your food too. You scoff and shove the whole plate at him. "Yuck, just have it, now it's covered in Sukuna germs."

"You should count yourself lucky to have any of them from me, brat."

"Will you two stop," your mom and Sukuna's dad say it simultaneously with a big sigh, it's an automatic response when you both have to be in each other's vicinity.

"Why don't you just stay somewhere fancy, rich boy?"

"Tch, you really would miss me if I didn't come over, can't have you all upset." You roll your eyes as your mom gives you an entire other plate of food. Sukuna's already downed your plate and eyeing the new one.

"Let me eat holy shit," you turn away from him, about to stab him with the fork when he goes for a piece of chicken. "Sukuna!"

"Stop it, go get another plate." Sukuna's dad instantly has Sukuna resigned just a bit, he rolls his eyes and leaves your plate alone. The two of them look more like brothers than father and son really, he's a spitting image of him.

Sukuna is handsome, you suppose, though he knows it and is so pretentious about it, that it's just annoying. You'd never tell him he was, either, not when he calls you a little gremlin. That started the first year you lived here, along with dweeb, shrimp and brat, he was a classic bully.

You nibble a bit as you stare at your phone, swiping away the annoying notification that he posted, only for him to eye it, smirking. "Aw you do love me, following me and everything!"

"You wish, I keep ignoring it and it won't stop. Conspiracy or some shit."

"Honey, no cussing at the table."

"Sorry mom," she laughs at you two, shaking her head, while Sukuna leans over, peeking at the phone you're now bringing to your chest. "Will you fuck off."

"Language honey. Ow!" You stomp right on his foot, earning a scowl landed at you. "Brat!"

"Jerk! I don't want to eat, I lost my appetite." You stand up then, plate almost entirely untouched, walking up the stairs as your mom asks you to come back down.

God you can't stand him.

You get a knock later, and he's holding a plate in his big ass hands, frowning a bit. "What, dad yell at you?"

"Just eat," he shoves the plate at you, you notice it's been warmed up when the glass touches your skin. You blink a bit in surprise. "You didn't eat anything."

"You ate all my food like an ass, and I'm not hungry." You shove the plate back at him and his eyes narrow, your fingers touching as you try to put it back in his hands.

"Will you just eat? Now."

"You don't tell me what to do.

"You're such a-

"Brat, I know." You tug the plate back, rolling your eyes now. "I'll eat if you leave me alone."

"I don't want to hang out with you anyway," he says, lying his fucking ass off - god he wants to just spend time with you, not that he ever would say it or do it for that matter. “You better eat it all.”

“Oh Jesus.” You shake your head at him, sighing and nibbling some of it when he walks away, you hate how good his ass looks in those stupid gym shorts. He catches you staring damn near, looking back at you with a raised brow, you quickly scowl and shut the door.

Why does Sukuna look so good? You can’t think the shit.

After eating you’re washing up, bumping into Sukuna as he heads to the bathroom, shirtless just to distract you, surely. You’re breathless when you see his bare chest - has he gotten more chiseled? More tattoos? There are many sliding across his chest, his flat brown nipples, dipping down his rib cage and tracing his obliques. For a moment you can’t even say anything, just standing there.

“Did you eat?” You blink a bit, looking up and nodding a bit. “Nothing smart to say?”

“I’m just tired.”

You’re far, far too close to him then, just standing there, cheeks heating up at the proximity. He’s always been gorgeous, he’s always been buff, it shouldn’t bother you now so much. Without another word, Sukuna walks into the bathroom and you head out of it, shoulder brushing one of his biceps, the contact alone making your tummy tense.

The fuck was going on with you lately?

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t originally have a crush on Sukuna when you met him, how couldn’t you? He was so hot, especially to a younger you, before you realized what an ass he was as soon as he opened his mouth. After that first prank you knew he was just your enemy, not that you could have ever acted on your stupid crush anyway.

He’s family now, honey.

You cover your face with the blankets, avoiding any thoughts of that tattooed body on top of you. Maybe it’s your break up, maybe it’s the date coming up, maybe you’re ovulating, fuck… Whatever it is, you’re undeniably clenching around nothing from being too close to that asshole.

*****

Your date with Toji is tonight, you had a little crush on him when he’d come visit with Sukuna over the summers, but of course he never left you alone with Toji. He was annoying as can be when it came to making sure no one talked to you, because no one wanted to fuck with Sukuna, it’s just now gotten easier, since he’s out of college and some of them have gotten a little braver.

He hated your last boyfriend when you brought him over, on sight, though you have to admit he may have been onto something with that one, he really was a complete dick now that you look back on it. But he hated everyone you dated, making sure if he ran into them on campus to threaten them for no good reason, most of them just gave up.

You ran into Toji the other day randomly, and he was looking really good. He's that dangerous bad boy that your mom tells you to stay away from, but you never listen. Good guy you were just with fucked your former friend however, so you’re truly not so sure what everything means right now. Giving him a chance for a date seems like the perfect way to forget two things.

One, your shitty ex.

Two, your annoying step brother.

You’re eyeing your outfit in the mirror, turning this way and that, before brushing your hair out, you’re dressed in a lacy little black bustier and a pretty pleated skirt, you two are going to a concert so you figure you’ll look cute for it. You’re popping on a little gloss, slathering it over your lips until they’re glistening, doing a little spin and then checking Toji’s text.

You’re running down the stairs, hand on the rail, cool under your touch, when you pause, almost running into Sukuna and nearly tumbling off that last step. Sukuna  curses, catching you quickly, until you’re pressed against him. He is steadying you with his hands, huge fucking hands that feel way too good on your skin, when you’re eye to eye with his chest, looking up at him slowly.

“Clumsy brat…” He grumbles, pushing you back then, but his touch lingers for a little too long. When he looks at your outfit slowly, you feel those ruby eyes like a physical touch, slipping down your body and making you tremble just a bit.

Sukuna never looks at you like that.

It’s quiet for a moment, it goes on way too long, his gaze trailing down your breasts in that top, seeing the way your nipples press up like they’re dying for him. You look too good, too pretty, too much of that body revealed, and for another dude to look and touch? His old friend at that- it fucking infuriates him, his fists clenched on either side.

He barely composes himself, while you’re just looking at him under your lashes, doing too much to his brain, his heart pounding in his chest as desire hits him right in the stomach. He’s seen you in all sorts of shorts, bikinis, you name it, but he’s never really seen you dressed like this, and it’s fucking his entire mind up, short circuiting momentarily.

He finally composes himself, crossing his arms and scowling as you smile at him, arms behind your back. “Like the outfit, Sukuna?”

“Like it, fuck no. What’re you trying to dress like that for?”

“Because we’re going to a concert!”

“Tch,” he goes to the coat stand then, yanking his down from it and scowling right down at you. “Put on the jacket, now.”

Sukuna’s throwing his jean jacket over your shoulders again, you yank it off and shove it at him, pretty breasts just heaving in that slutty little fucking top again, he’s torn between being furious anyone sees you like this, and irritated it affects him this bad. What he thought was shoved far down is prominent as ever, fuck it was even worse than before.

“No! Don’t want your stinky jacket.” He is stepping even closer, when you inhale him - and you hate to admit the fucker smells good.

“This cologne is a hundred bucks a spray, you know it smells good.”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s nasty. As is your giant jacket, it’ll swallow me, he won’t see my outfit at all!”

“Good, no one should.” You scoff at that and shake your head at him.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! You’re not some big brother, and I’m grown. I’ll wear whatever I want- I look hot actually.”

“You look slutty.” His whisper is too close, you haul back and smack him then, hurting your hand and gasping, shaking it out as the tingles shoot through it, while the asshole smirks. “Hit like a little girl.”

“Oh fuck you, with your big ass head.”

“Honey! Ready for your date? He’s um…” your mom looks outside as she walks up to you two in the entry way,, where Toji is revving up his mustang. “He’s here… I guess.”

“Can’t come to the fucking door?” Sukuna says, you scowl at him.

“Like you do that for girls.”

Sukuna raises a brow. “Like you know what I do for girls.”

“I’ve heard plenty,” he smirks then, shaking his head. “Oh you’re notorious, how many girls have you dated? Manwhore.”

“Me, a manwhore?”

“Mom,” you turn to her now, as she still eyes Toji standing outside of his mustang, you can tell all her motherly instincts are telling her to intervene, but she has always let you make your own decisions.

“Yes sweetie?”

“Tell him I’m fine in this,” your mom pauses, lips parting as Sukuna’s dad comes out, and looks at you briefly before he takes off his jacket from the rack, earning Sukuna’s chuckle. “Really now!?”

“It’ll be cold,” he tries to play it off, clearing his throat as he covers you up with his jean jacket instead. “You’ll catch a chill. And why isn’t he at the door?”

“Exactly-”

“Shush.” You put your finger to your lips as Sukuna is about to gloat at the fact that your parents are in agreement. “Suck up.”

“Me? You!”

“Okay,” your mom takes off the jacket, earning the two men’s scowls. “She’s an adult, she chooses what she wears. Even if… she should wear a jacket.”

“I love you.” You kiss her cheek, grabbing your purse and phone then, walking outside. Sukuna walks to the porch with you, much to your irritation, glaring over at Toji who’s whistling across the yard.

“What’s up, Sukuna?” Toji’s voice makes Sukuna want to take him down, he’s grinning as he looks at you in ways he shouldn’t. “Long time no see. Oooh, don’t you look hot, doll.”

You’re giggling, giggling!? Sukuna is about to lose his mind.

He grabs your wrist, long thick fingers with black painted nails taking it over, you pause at the warmth, at the rough palms, looking up then. The night is humid but there’s a breeze tossing around his light pink locks, as he grips just a little tighter, making you turn to him.

“What is it?” You ask then, your voice for a moment is soft, Sukuna looks at you, then at Toji, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“Right.” He lets you go then, you’re bouncing down the stairs practically, Toji’s hand is at the small of your back, his fingers itching to break them, while you hug Toji and he wraps you in his big ass arms.

You’re opening your door, it’s not like Toji would do that, shit Sukuna’s not one to do it half the time, but the fact that it’s you makes him unreasonably angry. You look at him across the driveway, expression unreadable before you slip in the car next to him. Toji zips off so quickly Sukuna’s also worried about you driving with him.

He’s been jealous before, many, many times, but today is just too much, seeing you again, and knowing you’ll never be his, hits harder than it should. He stomps back in the house, your mom thanks him for being so caring - hah - if only she knew what he really thought about you.

Sukuna really isn’t proud of any of the next thoughts or actions that night, no he really isn’t. When he heads up to his room but lingers by yours instead, staring into it and seeing black lace on the ground. He knows he’s just horrible when he walks in and shuts that door quietly, eyeing everything in there, the sweet lingering scent of your perfume hitting his senses.

Sukuna is also not proud when he’s in your room, when he takes those panties you slipped off before you left, just sitting on the carpet by your dresser. He’s not very proud when he picks them up to his face, inhaling your scent - fuck, his ‘stepsister’ has the sweetest pussy. He has done this before, and you just get sweeter tasting, as he desperately laps your slick off them.

He’s so not proud when he’s right in your bed, putting them to his face and releasing his thick cock then, red tip leaking precum and smacking his stomach as it’s released. He knows this isn’t a good thing to do, he’s Sukuna, he could have any woman he wants, they’re all after him, and he’s stealing panties and jerking it on a friday night.

He’s furious that Toji gets to touch you.

If Sukuna touched you, he’d grip your breasts, squish them in his hands, have you littered with his hand prints, show you what it is to really get fucked, and fucked so good you’re delirous from it. Bend you over, grip your wrists with one of his hands, stretch your cunt the fuck out. God he bets it’s so pretty, too, his mind vividly pictures it as he touches his tip, exhaling.

What is he reduced to from you!? In your bed, so big he hardly fits on the fucking thing, sprawled out with his long limbs as he strokes his thick, veiny cock slowly. Your panties are right against his face, he’s perverted and depraved for doing it, especially in your bed, but he can’t stop himself. He’s moaning softly into them, as your scent fills his mind, while his hand jerks it faster and faster.

He’s whispering your name, sweat slicking his muscled body, a thin sheen glimmering under your pretty fairy lights while he’s being fucking filthy on your bed. Picturing your tummy bulging with him, stroking slowly in and out, making you squirt cum all over him till your sheets were soaked. He’s jerking faster and faster, wishing it were you, so desperate and pathetic you make him.

He hates you more for making him this way, him, fucking Sukuna, pathetically cumming in his ‘step - sister’s’ bed, as if he could call you it. He barely knows you, aside from being a dick every break, pranking you to watch your pretty face so angry, getting off on it in far, far too many ways.

He didn’t have to be home for the summer, he actually put himself out doing it, just to see you, to fucking torment you, but it’s you who torment him, when he imagines tasting your pussy from the source. He’d lap his cum out of your cunt, then fill you up again, over and over, until there was no room for anymore, just messy and dripping all down your pretty thighs.

“Fuck,” he whispers it, muffling his moan with that fabric, as his cum pumps from his huge length, dripping in white ropes down his hand, pulsing in his hold. He’s gasping at the release, picturing putting it inside your bratty little fucking mouth.

He’s cleaned up then, right with your panties, whimpering the tiniest bit as they hit his sensitive tip, jerking as he lays there now, sooty pink lashes fluttering, furious as he thinks of you on your stupid date. You’ll never know what he really thinks, it has to be that way, but it doesn’t make it easier, not when he’s cuddling with a pillow that smells like your shampoo.

*****

“I had fun!” Toji smiles, that scar curving up just a bit, his big hand on your thigh as his engine hums.

“You did, huh?”

“I did, I needed that.” He chuckles and leans close, tilting your chin up now, inky locks falling over his brow. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he practically purrs the words, you gather their meaning quickly, heart racing just a bit as his lips descend. “Been thinking of this all night.”

Toji’s kiss is nothing like your ex, it’s a rough kiss, his tongue tracing your lips and slipping in your mouth when you gasp a bit. You hear his moan when he drags one of your thighs closer, spreading you, you feel your body reacting quickly, a mix of nerves, thoughts, and clearing your pussy is reacting too. She’s already been soaked for two days, and now she’s way too excited.

“God, doll,” Toji hums as he kisses you deeper, you’re trembling when his fingers slip up your thigh carefully, teasing and leaving goosebumps everywhere. His dark green eyes lock with yours as he pulls back. “You feel s’good, ya know that?”

“Do I?” You tease, he moans and kisses you again, while in front of your childhood home, it feels so… thrilling but terrifying.

Was Sukuna watching?

No way…

And if so, what would that make you feel?

You’re contemplating that as Toji finds you over your panties, you moan softly when rough fingers slip up and down them. “So hot, fuck…”

“Mnh!” You’re spreading your thighs for more, he feels so good, kisses taking over your addled mind, and you wonder if it can shove down the thoughts you’re having about your dumbass step brother. Thoughts you can’t have, shit you can’t do - even if either of you did want to.

Sukuna would never want you like that. He’s never called you pretty, not that he should, but he’s said the opposite all the time. He doesn’t know, calling you a fucking gremlin or whatever sucks sometimes, you don’t expect his compliments, but deep down a part wants them anyway. You get looking extra pretty for him, a fact you’ll take to your fucking grave.

Toji slips under your panties, you’re gasping when he touches your wet slit with expert fingers. “Soaked, huh doll? Need me to make ya feel good?”

“I’m… ah! Toji…” you grip his wrist, his thumb is circling on your clit now, it feels really fucking good, twitching against his touch. “Mnh…”

“Wanna cum f’me, pretty?” He’s rolling quicker, more pressure now, while he drags messy kisses on your neck.

“Um, I don’t fuck on the - ngh - first date, Toji.” He pulls back now, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“Was just gonna have you cum on my fingers - fuck, mouth if you want,” you’re blushing and he notices, chuckling again. “You’re cute.”

“Cute, huh?” You wonder what it would be like, you’ve always pictured it with Sukuna, his long fingers and black nails in your cunt, things you should never, you shove it back, focusing now. “You wanna finger me?”

“Wanna have you cum,” his voice is gruff, he’s not fucking around when he slips a finger in your soppy little cunt, your nails press into the leather of his jacket as he kisses you again. “Mmm, that’s it.”

Your eyes shut as he massages your cunt with his fingers, stretching you out and making you tense, thighs trembling on either side. For whatever stupid reason you can’t get fucking Sukuna’s body in a towel out of your damn mind, no matter how many times you shove it down, instead just getting wetter. You focus on kissing him, on feeling him, the squishing wetness loud in his car still running.

“That’s it, cum, I can feel it.” Toji’s words urge you on, as he sucks along your shoulder, sinking his teeth in as his fingers curl just so, and you feel yourself cum then, pressure building and releasing in your tummy.

“Ah!” You’re whining out, earning Toji’s grin against your skin, you feel his teeth lines along you, breaths coming quicker and quicker. “Toji, god…”

“You’re so wet.” He puts your panties back, a hand entangled in your hair now. “See, I wasn't gonna go that far.”

“Are you a gentleman?”

“Fuck no,” you giggle a bit. “But we don’t have to rush things. Are you gonna go out with me again?”

“I’d like that.” He kisses you once more, you’re a little dizzy, from your thoughts, your mind, when you walk back to the porch and Toji takes off.

Why do you feel bad?

Surely not for his ass.

Surely not for a man who is just… a jerk, who’s hot sure okay, Toji is too. You need to shove it down, all of it. You try to do just that, it’s still warm outside so the jackets were a silly idea, you unlock the door with your key, stepping inside and sighing as you feel the cool air conditioning hit your skin.

You slip off your shoes by the front door, picking them up and carrying them as you walk back up the stairs, yawning a bit. You know it’s late, so you try to be quiet when you finally walk into your room. You’re taking off that top and skirt, fingers touching the knobs of your dresser so you can find some comfy clothes to sleep in. Mom has everything you’ve ever owned in here still, so you have to sift through the old clothes.

Suddenly, you hear a rustle behind you, making you jerk and eye the mirror, nearly fucking screaming as you see something turning under your goddamn blankets.

“What the fuck!?” You walk over there now, seeing the tints of pink hair in the dark, as none other than Sukuna is in your goddamn bed.

You shove at the big lug of a fucking man, only for him to stop snoring and peek at you with eyes almost black, you tense as they hit you, as you realize you’re just in a bra and panties now. They drift down your body, when he leans up, yawning now, his look making you feel even wetter, even more needy than earlier.

“Are you pranking me? Get up…” Your voice is quiet, as he yawns, gripping your wrist then, tugging you until you almost straddle him over those sheets. You gasp at it, at how his hand brushes across your shoulder.

“Let him mark your perfect fucking skin?” He demands in a scratchy, husky voice, shocking you so much you blink, leaning back. You’re far too close to his hard length you feel under those sheets, against your inner thigh.

“Are you having some weird dream? Sukuna, it’s me…” You say your name, but he hears nothing with the blood rushing in his own ears, as he eyes that damn mark Toji left on your pretty shoulder. His thumb brushes it, while he pictures leaving marks everywhere. “Sukuna?”

He tugs you closer, until you’re sprawled over him, and he’s too fucking tired to stop it, to stop how badly he wants you - the girl he shouldn’t but can’t fucking help but want over anyone. You have no clue, he sees it in your shocked gaze, when he eyes your other shoulder, pristine and free from any marks.

“Did you like it, brat?” He asks softly, you don’t know what to say at that moment, you just look at him, at his lidded eyes and parted lips.

What do you say to that?

“Would you be mad if I did? I’m a grown up, y’know that?” He scoffs then, huge hand slipping up your bare spine, watching as your eyes flutter shut. “Sukuna…”

“Can’t answer, brat?”

“What’re you even doing in here?” You tug back a bit, but he just drags you back down, and soon you find yourself completely straddling him - Sukuna, your enemy, your… what is he exactly?

tagsss- @sukubusss @yamadramallamaqueen @quinny23 @flowerymenendez @valleydolli @gradmacoco @lolliibunny @chosolover32 @tiredasiandaughter @nanam1nz @sukunabish @valentinegab3 @heichouaack @throwmethroughawindow @mizuwki @omkookie @lemonadesforsale @dannaya @maybe-a-bi-witch @fl4weriesworld @karvokr @pillkits @yummycastiel @fl4weriesworld @kitty-yaps @kitassecretgf @deathrye @musiclover2119 @goldenfawnwriting @sttaejoon-blog @lil-cinn @keiiate @sageosimps @paradisestarfishh @ohohostinkyyyyy @blitziwitch @b0nez9 @sukunaforlife @mihauh @gojodickbig @ashlantismorning @erenspersonalwh0re @uncertainlyours @t4ters @msniks @seellove @lnette04 @salemsays66 @chxngminji @poopooindamouf

[toji-bunny-girl]

subby panty sniffer loser!shigaraki i cant stop thinking abt 😖

Shigaraki has always hated you.

Ever since All For One brought you in, and your jaded eyes first met his—you’ve always goaded an odd, frustrating burn in him. At first, you both merely ignored each other’s presence. And he has always preferred that. Then things soon got annoying when you started cozying up to him and trying to be friends with him. It’s fucking irritating and the burn gets worst the closer you press yourself into his space.

All it took for you to switch it up was his unrequited demeanour to your friendliness. It’s a bit too easy, really. A harsh word or two and a sneer at your face already got him on your bitch-list—just like everyone else would.

Everybody’s the same.

And you’re nothing special. That’s what he tells himself, repeatedly, over the years. Even when the glow in his belly comes alive whenever you brush pass him, his eyes memorised the curves of your grown body behind the curtains of his shaggy hair and god—the sweet, head-spinning scent of your underwear that sends his nerves tingling.

Yes, you’re nothing but a pest. A pest who always leaves her clothes in the laundry room, and often finds her panties gone without a trace.

Stupid and forgetful and—

“What…the hell?”

The hair on his nape flew erect, prickly dots snaked beneath his skin in a shot the moment he heard your voice—laced in utter disbelief and disgust.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You weren’t supposed to collect your laundry this early yet. Weren’t you supposed to be training with All for One?!

“So, you’re the panty thief?” you sneered at him, the same way he would at you. You would’ve never in a million years even think of the scene in front of you—Shigaraki Tomura, who openly despises you, rubbing his cock with your panty? “What a joke.”

His pale face grew crimson red from the blood that rushed through his pulsing veins, his pride ripped from his clutch with every blink of your eyes soaking the embarrassing sight of him. God, he wanted to die right then and there. He shouldn’t have initially neared your laundry before, he should’ve ignored the tugging burn that urged him to touch the remnants that enveloped your bare body, and you shouldn’t have came here in the first place!

His thoughts are chasing after his sanity, and his heart threatened to beat its hard last. You’re nearing him and his sweating form with every dreadful step, and his body had the guts to feel…excited—his cock throbbed and the familiar burn came roaring through his vessels again.

Just what are you doing to him?

You snatched the damp piece of underwear from his grasp, soaked with his sticky precum, and his cockhead twitched from the lost warmth that previously hugged his shaft.

He’s now bare, blood continued to pump his cock hard as you stared at the mere size of his—length and girth you’d never thought would be hiding behind his dirty clothes; tip flushed in a pretty shade of pale pink, and veins that stemmed from the bush of light blue. His heartbeat thumped loud in his ears as you looked, and he almost lost of your words from the beating.

“Is this some kind of perverted hobby you have? I always knew you’re weird, but not to this extent,” you threw your underwear aside before shoving him, his back roughly bumped into the wall behind. Fuck, he doesn’t know what to say—and what to do other than to watch how you’re reacting to this twisted mess.

You’re staring at his twitching cock when his gaze flickered to your face, his hot panting hazed the air and it scorched your cheeks in a burnt shade. What are you thinking?

“It’s only fair for me to touch you after you’ve been jerking off to my panty, right?” it’s almost a reassurance for your own self than to him. His eyes widened, pupils dilating as you wrapped your hand around his throbbing member.

“W-What are you doing?!” he bit his bottom lip to muffle a moan, fingers curling into fists against the wall, nails poking into his flesh.

“Entertaining myself with a freak like you,” you snickered, stroking his veiny shaft with your cold fingers. Shigaraki shuddered to your touch, the nerve-numbing burn soaring through his stomach as his chest rose and fell quicker by the second.

“Get your d-dirty hand off of me,” his breath hitched as he stretched his throat, pushing his head against the cool wall. His toes curled as you pumped his length, and his nerves tingled from the sight of you staring at his cock with that look in your eyes.

“You seem to enjoy it, hm? I thought you hated me, I can’t believe you’ve been busting over my fucking panty. Do you have a crush on me or what?”

“Y-You…hngh—bitch!”

“I didn’t know a mutt could talk…much less call me a bitch?” your grip tightened, unforgivingly so around his slippery cockhead, earning a pretentious grunt—which tumbled out of his chapped lips in the form of a pathetic moan. “What was that? You sound like a little girl,” his cheeks burned in embarrassment as you made fun of him, your snickers ringing in his hazy mind, taunting the pleasure that piled over his nerves. “I want an apology, you perverted loser.”

“N-No way—nngh!” Shigaraki’s sweat-glazed body jolted from every painful twist of your fingers, his thighs shaking from the way you’ve been abusing his cock; flashes of bloody ruby glinted from behind his greasy bangs. It’s funny, really. He thought he looks all fierce and intimidating when actually, he’s nothing but a slutty mess holding back his drool.

“It’s not a fucking request,” your hand wretched his face closer to yours, his eyes nearly melting under your flinty gaze.

“F-Fuwah—aanh!” his hips drew backwards in creeping sensitivity, and a loud slick sound bounced off of the lewd-seen walls as your nails flicked in contact with his twitching red tip.

“You know I’m impatient, hm? So hurry,” your thumb hastily rubbed over his leaking slit, splattering his pre-cum all over the both of your clothes. His body shook into your arms, jerking and whining as his hands scrambled to hold onto you for support.

“Mmmgh! Haa—” his weight slopped onto your body, and his heavy head rest against your shoulder as you continued to stoke his throbbing fat girth with your tightening grip. “So—aangh! S-Sorry, m’sorry!”

“Aww, who knew you’d sound cute when you all whiney,” your other hand rose to tilt his chin, his ruby eyes glistening with tears of desperation, drool slipping past his mouth as he clenched his teeth. “What a pathetic face.”

His hips pistoned into your hand, clumsily rocking forward and messing up the fine rhythm of strokes you had, his moans sounding more and more breathy—you could tell he was at the near edge. Drawing your face closer to him, your soft lips met his cracked ones just as a crooked cry leaped out of his dry throat, and you could feel his hot cum shooting onto your shirt, staining your top white with the smell of him.

Shigaraki stayed unmoving, merely gulped as you licked and wet his lips with your tender tongue, your saliva mixing and dripping down his chin. The burn in him wasn’t just a flame anymore, it had exploded into chains of reaction—his heart squeezed and insides bursted into a sloppy, chaotic mess.

Does he have a crush on you?

[babyleostuff]

kissing them mid argument | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

instantly forgets what you were fighting about AND will chase your lips with his. cheol usually argues until the end, but when it comes to you, it doesn't matter if the blame falls on him (even though he didn't do anything) - as long as he can go back to hugging, kissing and suffocating you with his love, he’s a 100% fine with taking the blame (okay, who’re we kidding - he’ll be a bit sulky). you’d keep apologising to each other with his forehead resting on yours, and whisper quiet "i love you’s" that cheol would seal with his pouty lips on yours. 

❥ jeonghan 

jeonghan would roll his eyes, one - to tease you, two - to hide how shy your kiss made him. his cheeks would turn into a pretty shade of pink but he’d quickly try to distract you with a sarcastic remark or gaslight you that you’re the one that got shy, just to hide his reaction. at the end though, hannie would grab your hand, pulling you closer to him, and place a soft kiss on your lips. "you're lucky that i love you, because normally i would have kicked you out of the house by now."

❥ joshua 

shy at first then turns into a little menace. he’d try to turn it all against you and probably start chasing you around the apartment so he could kiss you back (a perfect way to put that awful argument behind you, since it was about something silly anyway). shua would still have a slight blush on his cheeks when he gets you, wrapping you in a big hug, as you’d try to wriggle yourself out of his grip. soon your living room would be filled with giggles and laughs. 

❥ jun 

turns into a shy and blushy bean, which always happens when you kiss him out of the blue. jun was just so focused on the argument and careful not to raise his voice at you that he totally didn’t catch the moment you grabbed him by his hoodie, smashing your lips into his. he’d thank his lucky stars for your kiss, he absolutely hated fighting with you, and nothing felt better than feeling your lips on his, your body close to his chest, and your hands cupping his face. 

❥ hoshi 

he’d grin so widely it’d be almost impossible, with the corners of his eyes scrunched adorably - soonyoung is a number one fan of your skinship and physical affection, and you kissing him is a cherry on top no matter what - even if you’re arguing. not a second would go by, and hoshi would pull you back, kissing you all over your face as both of you would erupt in a fit of giggles and soft smiles. just for funsies, soonyoung would try to start an “argument” with you just so you’d kiss him again.   

❥ wonwoo 

malfunctiones for a hot second. just kind of stands there and blinks - no thoughts, head empty. all his rational arguments would fly out of his head and he wouldn't know what to do with himself. "yes, well.. um." then he could react in two ways - either his ears would turn red with embarrassment, or he would snap at you with the "what the hell do you think you are doing." (with love of course). wonwoo just doesn't always know how to react to your affection.

❥ woozi 

jihoon can’t help but smile - he thinks you’re the cutest and most adorable thing ever. after he realises how widely he’s smiling, he scoffs and shakes his head in disapproval, just to hide how giddy and fluffy you made him feel with such a small thing. “do you think this will end the fight?” just give him another kiss and he’s gone - the fight is forgotten, there is no way jihoon will take this argument seriously anymore, thanks to you and your cute antics. what can i say, he has THE biggest soft spot for you. 

❥ dk 

he’s face would scream “kiss me again, please?” one of the things seokmin hates the most is fighting with you - even if it’s just a small everyday argument - he can’t handle that, so he’s so so happy and relieved when you kiss him. the second you pull away you’re met with his puppy eyes and an adorable pout, so you don’t have much choice but to kiss him again. your fight would quickly turn into a soft makeout session, filled with gentle kisses and apologies, though neither of you really knew what you were apologising for at this point.  

❥ mingyu 

sulky baby because he was about to say the best argument in his life, happy that he could finally stand up for himslef (though he knew he wouldn’t have won that fight either way). but to be honest, gyu would just be relieved that the fight was over, and if he wasn't so focused on kissing you back, smashing his lips into yours, he’d probably do a victory lap around the apartment. his puppy eyes would be sparkling with nothing but love and excitement, delighted that he could go back to being his usual clingy mingoo self.   

❥ minghao 

would ignore your kiss at first and keep on fighting with you, adamant on proving his point. he’d ignore the next three kisses as well, still babbling about whatever you were fighting about. by the fifth kiss, hao would start to lose his train of thoughts, and he’d start stuttering a bit, trying to remember what he wanted to say. then the sixth and seventh kiss would come, and that’s when he’d give up on the fight. “cute,” he’d mutter with a soft smile, and finally kiss you back. 

❥ seungkwan 

“i’ll give you a kiss later, just let me finish.” very adamant on finishing the fight although he’d completely forget what he wanted to say, all thanks to your kiss, (but boo would still continue to babble even though it wouldn’t make much sense). then he’d just kind of catch himself making no sense, and he’d just laugh and kiss you back, your fight long forgotten (just as you’d be about to fall asleep he’d remember what he wanted to say, and would keep you up for the next hour just so he could finish the argument). 

❥ vernon 

malfunctiones #2. “okay, but does that mean we’re done fighting?” just stands there trying to process what had just happened, because a second ago you were arguing, and now you were kissing him? a bit confused, but relieved at the same time - vernon hates fighting with you, and it doesn’t really matter to him who takes the blame - he could honestly take the whole blame if that meant the fight was over. he’d think about that lil kiss for the rest of the day, he’d even catch himself smiling at the thought of it in the middle of practice.   

❥ chan 

blushes furiously, and hides his head in your neck. “you can’t kiss me like that, we’re fighting!” he’d mumble, although you knew he had forgotten about the argument the second your lips touched his - chan was just too shy to admit that. turns into a little cutie, because even though your relationship is filled with surprise kisses, and out of the blue hugs, they always make him shy and so fuzzy on the inside, and he can’t help but blush as every coherent thought leaves his mind.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys

[saerotonins]

biggest scandals they have faced

ft. actor!nanami kento, fushiguro toji x wife!reader (separated) 

content warnings: fluff, light angst, jjk actor au, celebrity issues, cheating allegations, divorce allegations, none of them are true, misogyny, mentions of infertility, just cruel stuff based on the issues i see online, slightly suggestive (making out), toji and wife call each other "ma" and "pa", mentions/hinting of sex, internet trolls, horrible people online, pls don't read if these issues are triggering to you, shitty article names lol

wc: 2052

note: this got too long, will do other parts for the other actors instead <33 happy holidays, everyone!

NANAMI KENTO:

Jujutsu Kaisen Star Nanami Kento Facing Trouble in Paradise: Leads to Divorce

to say he was irritated when he saw the headlines from the tabloids was an understatement, he is beyond livid. but the comments just made everything worse.

user_1: wow aren't they married for years already? maybe his wife can't conceive any babies? LOL

user_2: must be, or maybe nanami's just realized his wife is just using him for his actor money 

user_3: the wife doesn't know to make a sandwich i fear 

user_4: maybe he got tired of his wife's ugly face, no wonder he hides it from the internet hahaha

kento doesn't give a fuck if people were dragging his name left and right but god forbid it involves you, his loving wife who has been nothing but utterly supportive of his career. for someone who stuck by his side for years, it angers him that people immediately assume that you were the problem. he knows the news isn't true, he literally just cuddled with you last night, so to say that you were getting a divorce almost makes him laugh if it weren't how stupid this situation is. 

when his manager informed him about the situation, he immediately cancelled every schedule that he has for today, he will call the lawyers to settle this later but for now, his main focus is you. 

you are someone who is used to the privacy of your own space which is why you opted to keep your face off his socials and remain anonymous to the eyes of his fans. kento hates it that your peace is getting disturbed due to his stardom, so he is willing to drop everything just to go home to you and comfort you. no one knows who you really are but the way it made people talk like they do, makes him angry. no way his wife is going to be disrespected like this.

the moment kento opens the door the your shared home, he's panting, sweat evident in his forehead and worry present in his eyes as he looks at you across the living room, sitting on the couch with your phone in your hands. 

"shit," he thought, he knows you already saw the news, and worse the comments. he can tell just by your body language. your eyes sunken in sadness and your lips form a frown. he doesn't see it but he knows your heart is breaking too.

"honey," kento breathes out as he walks towards you. he knows you heard him, but you stay in your position, disbelief flooding your senses. suddenly, you came back to reality when you feel kento's warm embrace, his large and quick hands getting rid of your phone before placing it on your head and immediately feeling his chest against your head.

his breathing his ragged, unstable deep breaths as he tells you, "it's gonna be okay," and a thousand apologies to go with it. you nod instead, finding yourself difficult to talk. you opt to rub onto his arm, a silent reply to his comforting and kento seems to understand your gesture. he then kisses the crown of your head as he pulls you tighter in his embrace.

"am i holding you back, kento?" you asked, your voice quite muffled as you speak through his button down blouse.

"oh god, darling you will never hold me back, if anything, you keep me moving. don't listen to them, alright? i'm happy and contented to where we are right now, don't worry about it." he lets go of the embrace and cups your face with both of his hands. he looks at you with loving eyes as he brushes your lower lip with his thumb. you close your eyes as he leaned closer, then you finally felt his lips against yours. he gives a peck, another, and then a third one before he crashes his lips onto you for the last time as he takes his time to explore your mouth.

kento knows a lot of ways to apologize, and this is one of them. he is gentle, but his love is loud as he allows his tongue clash against yours, the wet squelch filling up the room as he allows himself to be drunk with your lips.

when kento lets go, his breathing is heavy but satisfied. "i'll take care of everything from then on, okay?" he says as he caresses your face and a smile creeps to his face when you lean towards his touch with a nod. "will you be releasing a statement?" you ask.

"yeah, i'll contact our lawyer about it and then we'll see what we can do." his answer earned a curt nod from you. kento noticed pursed your lips, obviously thinking about something.

"are you still bothered by the comments?"

"no, i mean, i'm a bit upset about how people were talking about me online but i'm just curious as to where all this came from." 

"hmm, yeah, we'll take care of that too, for now, just rest your pretty mind and always remember that i will never leave you. that okay?" his gentle voice makes your heart feel full, and that's you know that your husband will always be at your beck and call. "yeah." you answered as you give his lips a quick peck, "i love you," you added.

"i love you too."

not a even a day later, the JJK LABEL had released a statement and an article regarding the fake news that had surfaced.

Nanami Kento Slams Fake Divorce Article: "Don't project your problems in your love life through me and my wife."

"the article itself and the comments are horrible and people are stupid enough to believe something that came from a tabloid known to release fake news. maybe this just tells about how gullible and stupid people are for believing groundless rumors and not my relationship." the artist stated.

"to everyone involved in the release of this article, we will see you on court and i hope you have any evidence about your claim. to the people who threw disgusting comments about my wife, please worry how alone you are instead of snooping around our relationship." he adds.

that day, kento's fanbase rejoice as the tabloids finally got their karma when it was reported that their company was finally shut down.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

it was a normal day in the fushiguro household until megumi bursts in through the door with a loud and resounding—

"dad, what the fuck?" 

"megumi, language, please!" you warned him.

your word goes through megumi's ears and went to his dad who is currently lounging in the living room reading his script. he paid his son's words no mind and gave him a raised eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"your name is all over tabloids because of a forum post. look," megumi says as he faces his phone screen to toji's face. to say that he's horrified to what he just saw is an understatement. so, with a worry mind, you go behind toji's lounging chair and read what's on the screen.

Acting Veteran 'T' Caught in An Affair! 

At the night of Tuesday, Actor 'T' is caught leaving a hotel with a seemingly younger woman clinging on his arms. The two are being lovey-dovey in their Shibuya rendezvous. Actor 'T' is currently married with a child which makes everything even more scandalous. What would actor 'T'’s wife and child think about this? Seems like the man really took a liking towards sneaking away with younger women.

Actor 'T'’s identity will be released by [MM/DD/YY] so stay tuned! For now, let us know your thoughts below.

user_1: actor veteran and the code is T? must be toji then?

user_2: this is definitely toji lmfao he looks like someone who would fool a younger woman

user_3: his wife must be so rusty now so he's running to the younglings LOL

user_4: respect for having the balls to cheat on his wife after this long, ik his ass is itching

user_5: @user_4 LMFAO should've done it sooner! bet he doesn't want to pay child support so he's staying 😂

user_6: NOOOO the GOAT got caught damn we were rooting for u 👑

"what the fuck?" both you and toji's voice were erupting in the whole room. out of shock? anger? rage? megumi is not sure but there is one thing he's sure of, both of you are being scary right now and the red in both of you and husband's eyes are almost showing due to the high range of emotions you were both feeling right now.

despite knowing that toji is utterly in love with you and he was actually with you that day, it scares him that his father is facing this kind of scandal. people are horrible out there trying to ruin his father's career that he worked hard on and this is the proof.

toji might be used to having false rumors spread about him all over the years he is in the acting industry, but what he can't take is people talking shit about his wife and thinking less about her. the comments that he just read just woke up the rage inside of him.

"mom?" megumi had called you since it's been minutes when you had gone quiet. the sight before him broke his heart. 

your eyes are trying not to let your tears fall, but the comments are too hurtful to ignore, too cruel to set aside. even though you know that it's covered with a codename (barely), you exactly know it's your husband that they are talking about. you're hurt about the comments but you're most scared of your husband's career coming to a screeching halt.

you suddenly feel your husband hug you so tight and you let it all out. his shirt might get damped but toji doesn't care, comforting his wife comes first. he then tells megumi, "call our lawyer, tell him what we just saw, they'll know what to do," megumi frantically nods and gets out of the house to do what toji had said.

"come on, ma, let's go and get some rest." toji had urged you to go with him.

"pa, this is so ridiculous, i know you know how to deal with these but this is just too much, they're targeting our family now." the sadness in your voice and the tears that flow through face break toji's heart. you don't deserve this. these assholes needed to be taught a lesson, and he knows he won't be nice about it. "i'll take care of this, 'kay? i love you and megs so much, angel."

toji's voice somehow calmed your senses and you let yourself cry in his arms until you're left with no tears. "i'm sorry, i'm too old to cry like this." you said as you try to wipe the remnants of your tears from your face.

"no one's too old to cry, darling," toji coos, glad that you're finally able to calm down, and caresses the back of your head. then, a sly smirk forms on his lips, "you know what else we're not too old for?" 

genuinely curious, you look up to him, "what?" you asked. 

toji leaned down and whispered, "another child, think we can give megumi a sibling?" and gave you a mischievous look.

"toji!" you exclaimed as you smack his chest, flustered of his words. 

"gross, get a room, and is now really the time for this?" you suddenly let go of yourself from toji's grasp the moment you heard megumi back in the living room. toji chuckled, "i got it all covered, both of you rest up and i will deal with all of this." toji walked towards where megumi is standing and gives his head a gentle pat, "no one's gonna ruin us, alright?" 

the conviction in toji's voice made it clear to both of you and megumi that he already has a plan in mind, and you trust him enough to believe him. he has never let the both of you down, after all.

the next day, news break out the the person who posted the rumor on the online forum is caught with other criminal charges aside from the defamation he just attempted to do. the horrible comments also seem to magically disappear.

Fushiguro Toji Busts Down Anonymous User, Other Criminal Charges Involved

"I hope this serves as a lesson to everyone else. I'm not backing down until everyone gets what they deserve for ruining the names of the people I care about. I will not let go until every single horrible person who rises their tongue against my family is punished." Toji stated.

"Be careful what you read and comment online, please don't forget that the people you talk about are not just subjects, but real human beings." The veteran actor added.

the fake news spreader should have really known not to deal with a veteran who is powerful enough to protect the people he cherishes.

edit: i just noticed that i wasn't able to add the ending to toji's part 😭 my apologies, i fixed it now!

[mrsbarnesblog]

I feel like when reader gets fed up with Rafe not making a move, she tries to go on a date with someone else and it makes him realize that he has to act if doesn’t want to be left with just “baby daddy” label. loved your story

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

summary: when you have a baby with your ex-friend with benefits, he realizes that he has to talk about your feelings if doesn't want to lose you (can be read as a standalone, but is part two of this fic)

word count: 1.1k.

warnings: ex fwb, baby daddy Rafe, he's really soft and cutesy (i can't help myself, sorry)

Raising a baby with you felt easy. It felt safe and stable because it seeming like you worked perfectly together, never having serious fights and always easily understanding each other. Rafe adored both of you and he was happier than he ever was, even if he was constantly tired from sleepless nights. 

Every time Rafe looked at you holding your daughter, smiling and particularly shining in your post-pregnancy bliss, he felt his heart flattering. You were his. The mother of his daughter, his friend, his family, his girl. 

Then, when you unexpectedly mentioned to him that someone had asked you out, things went south. 

You both hated every second of what was likely your first serious argument, but you were unable to contain your emotions when the situation deeply hurt both of you. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, Rafe! I don’t know what you expect from me when the only thing that I know for certain is that I am the mother of your child!” You screamed at him, blinking away your tears. 

“Don’t say that. You know what I want from you, and I can’t let you go out on dates with some random dudes, Y/N. Like, you have to be joking. We just had a baby, for fuck’s sake!” His hands flew to his hair as he started walking back and forth in the middle of his living room. 

“As far as I’m aware, I’m single, Rafe.” You said it bitterly, bringing your legs closer to your chest and wrapping your hands around them. You wanted to hide because it felt to heavy to be talking about it, especially when you never desired anything more than to be appreciated and loved by the man in front of you.

“So this means nothing to you?” 

“It was not what I said.”

“You said you’re single.” 

“Am I not?” You whispered. “You were horny and had a baby with me. Just admit it.” 

You were looking at each other with emotions and unsaid feelings on the tips of your tongues. It hurt you to say it; it hurt you to realize how easy it was to end everything here and face the reality that you were no one to each other. Tears flooded your vision and you looked down, defeated. 

“I’m sorry.” Rafe whispered back, as the panic started to settle in him. “I’m so so sorry, Y/N. It has never been my intention to make you feel this way, but I promise that you’re much more for me.” He came closer to you, kneeling in front of your shivering body. “Even if it was casual sex at that time, I would've never signed up for a baby with someone who I felt nothing for.” 

His hands reached for your legs, setting them down on the floor and instead moving closer to you. Rafe touched your face, making you look at him through wet eyelashes and you noticed a longing, almost pleading, look in his eyes. 

“I love you. I love you and our little girl, and I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want you. I need you because you’re my best girl—the prettiest, sexiest, most brilliant woman I’ve ever met. I was too dumb to not do it earlier, but I want to have it all with you. I want you both here all the time, with me. You are my family. ”

He left you completely speechless, making you sob harder and lean into his chest, leaving wet stains all over his shirt. You didn't know how you could live in denial for that long, but you realized how desperately you craved to hear these words. How desperately you tried to convince yourself to stick with what you had when the only thing you ever wanted was him.

“Sh-h, baby…” He soothed your hair, holding you closer and allowing you to let go of your emotions. Rafe hated how oblivious he was to your feeling this whole time. Seeing you break down hurt him more than he could imagine and he knew he would do anything to never see that look in your eyes again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mama. I love you.”

“I l-love you t-too.” You hiccuped, leaning back and wiping your face. Rafe’s eyes stayed on yours when he slowly traced with his thumb your slightly swollen bottom lip and then moved closer. 

He kissed you slowly, passionately, gently biting your lip, as if he were claiming you again and you felt that familiar sparkle in your body that appeared whenever he was touching you so gently. You brought your hands to his shoulders to feel his body closer to yours and he obliged, slightly hovering over you.

Soft crying from the bassinet interrupted you, and before you could even begin to worry about your daughter, Rafe had already pulled away, but not before giving you that promising look and moving in her direction. 

“Hi, pretty girl.” He cooed, taking her in his arms and lifting her up in the air. She looked so tiny compared to him and you felt another wave of tears coming in. “Sh-h, it’s okay. Are you hungry or did you just want someone to hold you, hm?” Rafe placed her on the crock of his arm and started swaying from side to side. Her cries slowly calmed down, as she was looking up at him with big blue eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re so natural with her, i’m kind of jealous.” You laughed, wiping the leftovers of your tears. Rafe smiled back at you and sat down near you on the couch, wrapping his free hand around your shoulders to bring you closer. 

“Not as good as you. You’re an amazing mom. We love mommy so much, right, princess?” He tickled your daughter's belly and she giggled, looking between both of you happily. “I meant it when I said it, Y/N. I want you to move in. I want to have you both with me 24/7, because I cannot do it like this anymore.” Rafe almost begged, turning his head in your direction. Your eyes searched for his and the look that you saw there made your heart flutter. 

The thing about Rafe was that he was bad at expressing his feelings, but his eyes always showed you what you wanted to know. And now, when there was nothing but pure love and admiration, you knew that it was true. 

“Okay. I want it too.” You smiled, peacefully resting your head against Rafe’s shoulder, as the worry inside of you finally calmed down.

[juyeoz]

APPLE CIDER — HAN TAESAN ‧₊˚✩彡

SYNOPSIS — Seven minutes in heaven with your enemy is more like seven minutes in hell.

PAIRING —  enemy!taesan x gn!reader ( enemies with tension )

CONTAINS —  taesan teases y/n, swearing, an almost kiss, and some suggestiveness as well as fluff.

WORDCOUNT — 772 words ( after trial and error with pftbz )

“Why are you so flustered?” Taesan questions, confused. The two of you are in a tight space, yes, but you are also with someone you swore to hate all your life.

He walks over to the door your supposed ‘friends’ locked you both behind and inspects the doorknob.

It is indeed locked, leaving both of you stuck inside until the timer is up.

You take a seat with your back resting against the wall of the closet and knees at your chest while Taesan does his own stuff — cussing at the door under his breath. 

“Shit, do they actually expect us to do something within these seven minutes?” He says with a sigh when walking back to his spot in front of you. You look down, avoiding any possible eye contact with him.

You feel your cheeks flush, hoping he can’t see the obvious change in your emotions under the dim lighting. 

“What?” Questions Taesan after noticing the way you are avoiding eye contact with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually flustered right now.” 

The boy chortles in disbelief as he takes a seat on the floor as well. He lowers his head to get a better look at your hidden face all while placing his hands on top of your knees.

“(Last Name), look at me.” He says and unfortunately, you follow through with his request. His gaze is overwhelming and only makes you feel smaller and even more flustered than you felt before. 

Taesan’s eyes search yours for any signs of emotions, however, there is nothing. Instead, you stare at him innocently. 

A sight he has never seen before. It is captivating, truly, and almost feels as if a switch flips off inside of him. It’s different from the look you usually gave him — a scowl with knitted brows, or even worse, a glare at anything he did. However, he would be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to such a sight at your lockers every morning. 

“If we kiss…” Taesan begins. “What are you going to do?” 

Your brows raise at his sudden question. The sudden question that he himself thought about, but is completely unaware of the fact it slipped out.

“I mean, that’s what they want, no?” He says, quick to make up an excuse. An excuse to shield away his true thoughts. 

An awkward silence falls over you both as you stare into each other’s eyes. Luckily because of the dim lighting, he isn’t able to clearly see your flustered expression and you aren’t able to see the way he nips at his bottom lip. 

Despite that, the cramped space isn’t any help to the both of you. You’re 100% sure he can hear your beating heart and he is 100% sure you can hear his. 

If you kiss Taesan, what would that mean for the two of you? You hate him and he hates you, however, who knew such a moment could make both of you rethink how you truly feel about one another.

Your gaze moves between his eyes and his lips and he watches with a glint from the terrible lightbulb evident in your eyes. Due to this, he bites back a smile before leaning and slightly tilting his head in the process. 

You, on the other hand, brace yourself for what is to come — but spoiler alert; it never came. Instead, a sudden weight is felt on your right shoulder. Taesan sighs and nuzzles his head further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder. 

Taesan whispers something, but it isn’t audible on your end, leaving you confused. Your head turns to look at him who continues to hide his own face in the same spot from before. 

There are many possible things Taesan could have said, starting with a simple yet irritating ‘I’m kidding’. The amount of embarrassment and hatred you’d feel after hearing those words is almost unbearable, but then again, it is expected from a boy that ‘hates’ you as much as you ‘hate’ him. 

“What did you say?” You ask, hoping it isn’t what you thought it to be. If it is, you wouldn’t waste any time getting up and asking to be let out immediately. And if that doesn’t work, you wouldn’t mind sitting alone in a corner on the opposite side of Taesan for the remaining minutes.

Seven minutes in heaven, more like seven minutes in hell. 

“(Last Name),” Taesan says, repeating himself as he raises his head to look at you. Once again, his eyes search yours as you fight back the urge to avoid his intense eye contact. 

“I like you.” 

Oh.

© JUYEOZ

BOYNEXTDOOR PERM TAGLIST — @ancnymcnzjy @miumura @ilovedallywinston @i03jae @borednia @s0shroe @leehanwish @sol3chu @en-dream @ribbeoms @itsactuallylina @macapunoz

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

Inner demons

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

Rain tapped against the windows like an anxious heartbeat, and the low hum of the fridge was the only thing daring to make noise between you and Simon.

You sat on the couch, legs curled up under you, rocking one knee nervously. You weren’t even aware of it. Just like you didn’t realize you were grinding your teeth until your jaw ached.

Simon sat at the table across the room, mask on, hoodie up, hand dragging slowly over the short stubble on his jaw again and again. Same spot. Same rhythm. A tic, almost. You’d seen him do it after missions - when his head was loud. He didn’t speak. Neither did you.

That was the problem lately.

You were both so used to silence. So used to hiding behind it.

You’d snapped at him earlier.

Not because of him, but because you couldn’t figure out why brushing your hair suddenly made you want to cry. Your moods flipped like a switch, and he took it.

Quietly.

Like he always did.

Like you did when he went cold and vanished into his head for hours without saying a word.

It hurt. But not in a way you could blame each other for.

You both had your ghosts.

Your leg bounced harder. He noticed.

His thumb froze on his jaw and his eyes shifted to you - dark, shadowed, unreadable. The mask might as well have been part of his skin.

You met his gaze and held it, jaw twitching from how tightly you were clenching.

He didn’t speak. Instead, he got up slowly and walked over.

The couch dipped under his weight as he sat beside you, close but not touching.

You wanted to lean into him.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to sob.

But you just rocked, and he just sat there, cracking the knuckles on his right hand one by one.

“We’re a fuckin’ mess,” he said finally, voice low and rough, the words a struggle from his throat.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Silence.

You reached for his hand without thinking - just needed to feel something steady. He flinched slightly, not from you, but from the vulnerability it took to let himself be held. Still, he laced his fingers with yours.

Your leg slowed.

His hand stopped twitching.

“I hate how it builds,” you whispered. “How I can’t stop it. The moods. The guilt.”

“I know.” His grip tightened. “I get... quiet. Shut down. Don’t know how to let you in.”

“You don’t have to. Not all the way.” You finally looked at him. “Just... sit with me. Like this.”

He nodded. “Deal.”

There was something broken in the way he looked at you- like he wanted to fix you while knowing he couldn’t even fix himself. But he stayed. And so did you. Even with the splinters beneath the surface.

The rain kept tapping. But now it sounded more like a rhythm than a warning.

Two Days Earlier

It had been nothing.

Just a passing comment from a coworker, offhanded and probably meant as a joke. Something about your tired eyes, the way you always seemed on edge lately.

"Rough night? Or is it just your face today?" she’d laughed.

You laughed too, politely, but something inside you fractured. You’d been holding too much - stress from work, bad sleep, your own brain never shutting up. It sat heavy on your chest the whole day. That one comment. That one stupid moment.

So when you got home and Simon asked, “You alright?” - you snapped.

“Do I look alright, Simon? Jesus, can you not see me for once?”

It was harsh.

You saw him flinch, and then he shut off. Instantly.

Like flipping a breaker.

No words.

No reaction.

Just... blank.

He slept on the floor that night, in the living room. Said the couch was more comfortable than your silence, but you knew the truth. He thought he didn’t deserve to sleep next to you after failing to read you.

He'd spent the next day moving like a ghost - present but absent.

Cleaning things that didn’t need cleaning. Avoiding your eyes. Whispering to himself in the bathroom, thinking you couldn’t hear.

You knew that voice. It was the one he used when the old Simon clawed up his spine - telling him he ruins things, that he should’ve stayed alone.

And you? You’d stayed quiet. Like always. Rocking your leg. Grinding your teeth. Feeling too much and not knowing where to put any of it.

Present day

Sitting with him now on the couch, your hand still in his, it came out before you could stop it.

“It was the nurse.”

He looked at you, confused.

“She said I looked like shit. I laughed. Then I felt like I was shit. And then... I took it out on you.”

He blinked slowly. Then gave a dry, almost bitter chuckle.

“I thought I was the one who pushed you too far. Again.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t. I was already too far gone. I just... hate that I let one sentence ruin everything.”

He was quiet. Then whispered, “One sentence can do a lot more than that.”

There was pain behind it. Old pain. You didn’t push.

Instead, you leaned into him - finally - and he let his head rest against yours. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, a silent apology. Or maybe comfort. Maybe both.

You didn’t realize when you both shifted, but the couch wasn’t enough anymore.

Somewhere in the stillness, you ended up in bed, tangled beneath the blanket like you’d both drifted there on instinct. Seeking warmth. Seeking each other.

Simon lay behind you, arm wrapped tight around your waist. His masked face rested against the back of your neck, breath warm, slow, steady. The hand on your stomach flexed once in a while - his only remaining tic, a silent way of anchoring himself to the present. To you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the dark. “I didn’t mean to break you.”

“You didn’t.” His voice was barely audible. Rough. Honest. “You’re the only thing that keeps me together.”

Your throat closed up.

You pressed his hand tighter to your stomach, grounding yourself in him. “I know you carry more than you ever say. I hate that I made it heavier.”

“You didn’t.” His nose brushed your shoulder. “I’d rather carry it with you than survive it alone.”

Tears ran down your cheeks silently. You didn’t shake. You didn’t sob. You just felt - because he gave you space to. Because he stayed.

“I’m so happy you’re mine,” you whispered. “Even when I’m a mess.”

His breath caught. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he kissed the base of your neck, slow and deliberate.

“You’re not a mess,” he said. “You’re just human. And you love me in all the ways I never thought I deserved. That’s... terrifying. But I’m not letting go.”

The hand on your waist slid up, just under your ribs. Not groping. Not possessive. Just there - holding, calming, real.

You both lay there in the dark, the silence no longer suffocating. It was soft now. Safe. A place to rest.

Together. Still standing. You both had your demons. And neither of you needed to slay them alone tonight.

~~~~~

It was the smell of coffee that woke you first.

Faint, comforting, like something you could wrap yourself in. Your body was still heavy with sleep, limbs tangled in the blankets, the pillow beneath you warm where he’d been. But his scent lingered - faint cologne, skin, worn fabric. You reached for his side of the bed without opening your eyes.

Empty.

But only just.

You heard the quiet clink of a mug being set down. Footsteps. Then the shift of the mattress as Simon returned.

No words yet. Just the weight of him sitting beside you, his hand brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead.

You cracked one eye open.

He was still wearing his mask.

His eyes met yours - calmer now. Still tired, but softer.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep.

“I like waking up to you,” you whispered, curling into the blanket, cheek pressed into the pillow.

He huffed softly - his version of a smile. “Brought you coffee. It’s not sweet. Thought you might want bitter today.”

You blinked slowly at him. “You always know.”

His hand paused at your temple, thumb trailing just along your hairline.

“Didn’t sleep much. Kept watchin’ you. Thought about last night.”

A breath caught in your throat. “Simon…”

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your temple through the mask. The gentleness of it nearly undid you.

“I know you didn’t mean the things you said,” he murmured. “And I wasn’t angry. Just… afraid. That maybe I was the weight you didn’t want anymore.”

Your eyes welled up again, heart twisting. You sat up slowly, cupped his masked cheek with both hands.

“You’re the only weight I do want,” you whispered. “And even if we break sometimes... I want to break with you. Heal with you. Always with you.”

He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into your palms like he needed that grounding as much as he needed air.

“I’m yours,” he said quietly. “Even when I’m quiet. Even when I’m a bloody mess in my own head.”

“I know,” you breathed.

You pulled him close. The hug was tight, wordless, desperate in its stillness. Forehead to forehead, mask to skin, and everything that mattered was right here. Just the two of you, clinging, surviving, loving through the storm.

And for the first time in days… You both finally exhaled.

[elvensorceress]

home is you

buddie | omegaverse | 52.5K | rated: Mature | ao3 | complete

for @chismosoeddie

“She suspects it’s a bond rupture.”

Buck blinks at him and looks confused. “But you’re not bonded. Shannon wasn’t even old enough before she— you know.”

“Not Shannon,” Eddie says. His stomach roils with nausea and his whole body aches. How does he say this? It’s so dumb. They should just have the infusions. Eddie moved away. They won’t be able to be in the same city anymore. He shouldn’t have even said anything. What is the point?

But— Buck. How can he lose Buck? He already had to move and leave him behind. How could Eddie possibly take those awful chemicals to dissolve and erase everything he has left?

He finds the letters on his arm with his fingers. B.U.C.K.L.E.Y. Then goes back to the beginning and absentmindedly feels the silken thread in the familiar shapes on the sweatshirt all over again.

Buck looks like he’s thinking but coming up with nothing. “Who then?”

“It’s probably— I mean. I don’t know for sure. But. If you think about it. Out of anyone it would be. Possibly? I’m guessing—” God, he just needs to say it. He can say it. It’s not a big deal. They didn’t plan on this. And they’ll deal with it like they do everything else. “It’s you. I think. You and me. Maybe. That was my thought.”

Buck turns bright red and hides his face by rubbing his hand over it and scratching the back of his neck. “H-how? How would that even— we’re not— you’re not interested in— We’ve never had— we’ve never, you know. Had— or made— or done—? Wi-with each other. How would we randomly be bonded? We can’t be bonded. I am not pining after anyone. Everyone thinks I am, but I’m not. Wouldn’t I know if I were b-bonded? Wouldn’t we both know?”

Eddie almost laughs. Does he really know anything at this point? “You don’t have to have sex to bond.” Sex is just going through the motions. At least in Eddie’s experience. But no one cares if an omega enjoys it. It’s not for an omega. An omega is there to service their partner. “It’s time and care and intimacy that do it. And usually intention.”

“Okay, but. Isn’t it like getting married? Aren’t there whole ceremonies and sex things or whatever other intimate rituals that have to take place?”

Obviously Buck hates the idea. Obviously he’s disturbed by it. “I don’t know, Buck. I just thought. Out of anyone. The most likely thing. Was you. Considering we’re—” Fuck. Maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe Eddie was too quick to assume.

What the hell does that say about him?

~~~

Eddie moves to Texas and finds himself growing sick and unable to make himself and Chris a home. He and Buck are aching without each other and have to choose to either become mates or permanently sever their unintentional bond since they're now hundreds of miles apart living separate lives.

(read on ao3)

[pucksandpower]

I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

pls do rafes revenge part 4🙏🏻🙏🏻

Rafes revenge part 4

part one, part two, part three

WARNINGS: manipulative!rafe, fighting, season 1 Rafe, probably read the first three parts to get it, mentions of sex and virginity.

You hated yourself for it. Not only did you sell your virginity for 2000 bucks to your brothers enemy and were hooking up with him for a month, you were now sleeping in the same bed as him every night, staying in the same house as him.

After your brother kicked you out, you had nowhere to go. You were completely, utterly alone. You were distraught, and the one to pick up the pieces, was of course, Rafe.

The motherfucker had managed to weasel his way into your life, manipulating you and using you all for some pussy and revenge on your brother.

Without even realizing it, after he took your virginity, you felt attached to the man. His plan was working. Because soon, people began to see the both of you pop up in places together, almost as if you were together.

It infuriated your brother, and that’s how you ended up in the situation you were currently in.

You bit back all of the distaste you currently had for the situation, Rafe and the rest of some of his kook friends all hanging out near the beach, drunk off their asses and being loud douchebags, hollering at anyone who passed.

You had your arms crossed over your chest, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when you heard another shout from Topper.

Rafe glanced down at you with a smirk, sensing your annoyance rather quickly.

“The fucks up with you?” He slurred out, you looking up at him now.

“Nothing.” You lied.

“You’re fuckin’ lying. What’s wrong? This-“ he chuckled, motioning to his friends around him. “This too much for you?”

“Shut up.” You huffed, him laughing loudly at you.

“Wow!” Kelce laughed along with Rafe.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, grabbing your arm roughly, stopping you from walking. He leaned down, the smell of alcohol heavy as he murmured down to you.

“Listen, I- I own you now.” He pointed to himself, “Did you forget whose house you’re at? And I can- like easily post those audios of you. If you want. Do you want that?”

You didn’t reply, but he could see the way your bottom lip trembled.

“I said, do you want that, y/n?” He asked louder this time, you swallowing and shaking your head at him.

“I didn’t think so. So… quit being a bitch, loosen up…” he told you, holding out a beer bottle for you. “Got it?”

You nodded again, taking the beer bottle from his hands, causing the corners of his lips to turn up.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout, baby.” He wrapped his arms around you with a smile, you downing the beer bottle in your hands to hide the way the tears slid down your face, before wiping them with the back of your hand, plastering on a small fake smile.

It was then that none other than John B who ran into Topper, the both of them bickering with each other, all of the other kooks and pogues gathering around each other.

John B glanced at you when he got shoved, Rafes grip on you tightening, pulling you even closer to his side. He had this cocky smirk on his face, while you stared down at the ground, too embarrassed to even look your brother in his eyes.

He scoffed, all of the other pogues looking at you now. Your friends.

“I swear to god, Rafe-“ John B murmured, walking up to him before Kelce held him back, Rafe laughing in his face.

“Man! It’s like midsummers all over again.” Rafe retorted, before JJ started shouting at Kelce, both of them beginning to fight, tumbling onto the ground.

Your brother and some other kook began to fight, Sarah and Kiara also starting to argue with two of the girls. It was a mess.

You watched with wide eyes, Rafe holding you close as you both backed up. He was chuckling and cheering them on as you watched with fear on your face.

“Best his ass, Kelc!” Rafe whooped, you watching with your eyebrows furrowed.

You let out a gasp when you saw your brother take a particularly hard punch to the face, you hiding your face into Rafe’s side, turning away from it all.

He chuckled at your reaction, letting you hide in his shoulder, letting you rely on him. It was all slowly falling into his hands, he was practically getting it all spoon fed to him.

You all heard the sirens not too far, all of them getting their last push’s and shove’s before they stood up, John B glancing back at you. You looked at him, your eyes pleading with him.

“Don’t come back home, y/n!” He told you, hints of hate in his eyes. Your bottom lip trembled and your eyes began to water at his bitter spoken words. Rafe’s eyebrows raised, this really was too easy.

You began to sob into Rafe’s chest, your tears soaking his shirt.

He smirked, leaning down, his lips ghosting against the outer shell of your ear as he spoke lowly.

“What do you say we go home, hm?”

I’m tagging some people who wanted to see the next parts/showed interest in some of the other parts. if you want to be put in or removed from the taglist for this, lmk and I will (: !

@theoraekenslover @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321 @theoraekenslover @ilovemensomuchagh

[mephistostwin]

Away from Him

SYLUS X NON-MC! READER

Part 2 Part 3

Reminders:

I do not own the characters, this is simply a story that I made up inside my head.

The plot and story line does not follow the events in the game.

MC, Sylus, and other characters' personality and behavior here are not the same as what's in the game.

I'm a first-time writer so please be understanding with the wrong grammars and misspelled words.

Expect that I probably did not use tumblr correctly because this is the first time that I will post an au here.

If this is not your type of story, please scroll up and ignore this post.

Some scenes that are like the scenes from other works are pure coincidence. I never intended to copy anyone's hard work and this is based on my imaginations alone.

Open for constructive criticism but be mindful of your words.

Description:

You are Sylus' best friend for 10 years. You already saw the versions of him that no one had ever got a chance to know or see. For the past years that you had been with him, your feelings for him grew and you thought that someday, you will become more than friends. Until something or someone appeared.

~~

Everything were all going well for the past years and months—until she showed up. You tried faking your reactions whenever you see them together. At first, you really did a great job at hiding your thoughts into playful and teasing manner. You shipped them and acted like you really love to see them being clingy to each other— but MC was not having it.

MC looked sweet and kind at first. She will constantly hug you and give you compliments. Because of her treatment towards you, you almost accepted the situation and move on so they can enjoy their time without a jealous eye piercing at their souls.

But it all changed one day when Sylus and MC finally announced that they are an official couple after five months of fixing their connection. You really never minded it and you started to hurt your own feelings and ego so you can be able to heal. To your surprise, MC's behavior changed. She became evil, possessive, hateful— every bad attitude, you name it.

She started pulling Sylus away from you and she will make it obvious that she does not like when he's around you. You normalized it when it first happened because you understand that no woman will like when their man is around other girls—but she tried to make you envious.

She will pull Sylus for a kiss or sit in his lap around you on purpose. She will look into your eyes and smirk as she do almost inappropriate things to or with Sylus in front of you. There are also times when she will confront you alone and shove it in your face that Sylus will never like or will never be with you because they are tied to a bond in every lifetime.

It is hard for you to avoid them both because you are Sylus' secretary. You arrange his meetings and some paper works and it is impossible to not cross paths with them. Of course, MC is always following him like a shadow. She will throw dirty looks at you when you go inside Sylus' office because of work purposes.

You wanted to tell Sylus about MC's behaviour because after all, you are still the best friend that he used to defend from any bad people. But you refrained yourself because you do not want them to fight over you and eventually ruin the connection that they built— already built in every lifetime.

But even Sylus has changed. He will give you extra works on purpose and it is obvious that the two of them planned it. He also became harsh and offensive when he talks to you. You tried taking his insults as a joke but you can't because it is clear that he meant to say it to hurt your feelings.

--

Today is nothing different. You are walking towards his office to hand over all the important papers that you have finished for the day. After you give this to him, you will head home and probably cry to sleep for the night. That became your routine for the past five months and fortunately, you can sometimes sleep without crying due to exhaustion. But most of the time, you will have a breakdown even if your body begs you for some rest.

As usual, Sylus is on his desk and typing in his laptop. His desk is clean and there is almost no papers because he passed some of his job to you because he had an urgent meeting with some of his business partners. MC is sitting in the chair in front of his desk. She's focused on spending Sylus' infinite money on online shopping.

It took less than a second for them to notice you as you entered the room. MC's eye roll and arched brow never missed your vision but you did not mind it, you are already immune to it. However, Sylus' nonchalant expression and eyes still hurt you. It's like someone is gripping at your heart tightly and wants to crush it under their palms. Sylus never looked at you like that long before MC came. Your Sylus was not like that.

“Here are the paper works that you gave to me earlier. I also have set all your meetings for this week. So far, there's no problem and adjustments to your appointments.”

You said like the usual times. The difference is just the tone is now more formal like you are a stranger working for a man that is hard to please or impress with normal work and conversation.

“Right... the only problem in the company is you...” MC murmured but she obviously wants you to hear it. She gave you a fake smile and a stare that holds grudges for no reason. You brushed it off and ignored the anger and pain that is building inside your chest.

“If there is nothing that you want me to do, I'll head home now.” You said with a slight and forced smile. Sylus looked up to you and brushed his hair. He smirked at you like he wants to fill your system up with anxiety.

“I want you to resign...” You were already expecting that he will say this because he always joke about this everytime that you are in his office while MC is also there. You gave him a nod and a smile like what he said was nothing serious.

“Is there anything else that you want?” You slightly tilt your head. He shaked his head and smiled— not to you, but to MC.

“Now, please leave us alone and leave. Wouldn't want my kitten to be distracted by some... dramatic person.” He said it like it's casual and not something that can hurt your feelings. You were already used to his new behavior towards you but everything that slips from his mouth never failed to shoot daggers to your already-fragile heart.

You gave them a faint smile and turned away from them and walked towards the door. You closed the door as you went outside his office but the pain that is throbbing in your chest made you grip the handle of the door.

You cleaned up your desk and put all your belongings inside your bag. You are planning to do his last request. Just as when you are heading out of the building, you saw the twins— Luke and Kieran— walking towards you.

“Hey... you brought out more bags than usual... don't tell us that you're finally leaving us all alone?” Kieran said, disappointment is evident in his tone. You smiled at them but pain is still showing in your eyes.

“As a loyal employee and a friend, I have to fulfill my boss’ last request...” You said with a kidding tone but the twins are obviously not happy about it.

“Don’t leave us with that girl... She's clearly fake. We wouldn't want to be around her suffocating energy instead of your warm presence.” Luke begged while caressing your hands that are gripping your bags.

But your decision is now final and you are willing to stand firm for it. You comforted the twins and you told them that they are going to be fine because you guys will still contact each other. You bid all your goodbyes with a lot of hugs and tearing up like you are gonna be separated from them forever.

You walked to your car and drive to your home. Each place that you pass reminds you of the memories of you and Sylus together that you should forget because he already belong to someone else— even before you came.

When you got back home, you started your night routine even if your body feels like it will collapse because of the pain and exhaustion that you are holding for such a long time. After your routine, you head straight towards your desk to fix your resignation letter.

Every letter and word that you type adds a heavy feeling that makes you sick. Your past self would never imagine that your bond with Sylus will end this way.

You stayed up all night because of fixing your resignation letter and booking a plane ticket to Linkon city. You also found an expensive apartment there and it already have all furnitures and essential things. Fortunately, you still have your card that Sylus gave you as gift for your birthday last year. You were too shy to spend it because you already save up tons of money because of your high salary but you never knew until now that it will be useful for you this time.

You get to sleep for 2 hours after packing all your things. Your alarm went off at 8:00 am and you had no choice but to wake up and get ready. Your flight is at 11:00 am and you still have almost 4 hours to prepare yourself.

After you prepared, you placed all your bags inside your car. You drove off to a near restaurant to have your breakfast and to buy a takeout lunch for later.

Just as when you are about to drive to the airport, you remembered that you did not prepare the requirements for your car to be transported to Linkon city. “Fuck, why am I being so unfortunate now? argh, I'm so dumb for forgetting my car...”. You curse yourself until you suddenly remembered a memory.

“Hey, don't curse yourself. You're too precious for that, sweetheart. It's not your fault.”

His voice and his memory rang into your mind. You did not instantly notice the hot tears slowly running down your cheek. You were not the type of person that swears on others but you can't help it. “You’re such an asshole, motherfucker.” You say as you wipe your tears.

Finally, you arrive at the airport. You decided to just book a ticket for your car to be transported to linkon even if it will take a lot of days to have your car again. You definitely had no choice.

“This is what you get when you suddenly act on something without a lot of time for preparation...” You murmured to yourself as you finished your transaction about your car at the lobby.

-Timeskip-

After hours in the air, you finally landed in Linkon city. The warm sunlight and comforting air greeted you. For a moment, you felt a relieving presence in your surroundings.

Away from trouble... Away from him.

You had to book an uber to get to your apartment. “If only I prepared the requirements for my car earlier...” you sighed in disappointment.

After you arrived in your apartment, you slipped into your comfortable casual clothes. You tried to stay awake but your lack of sleep pulled you into the darkness as you relax yourself on the comfortable couch.

You woke up to be greeted by the dark sky and shining moon that you can see outside in your balcony. You checked the time and it is already 6:45 pm. You forced yourself to stand and make your appearance more presentable. You are going to a nearby coffee shop that you saw earlier and you hope that they are still open.

After getting ready, you head out and walked a not-so-long distance from your apartment. The coffee shop is just five buildings away from the building of your apartment.

You are happy that you manage to come inside the coffee shop because they are still open until 10 pm. You ordered your favorite drink and snack. All of it taste delicious and kind of boost your mood. Your table is in front of the glass wall and you enjoyed the view of the towering buildings and cars passing by.

You were happily eating your meal until someone spoke beside you, startling you and almost made your snack slip out of your hands. “Can I sit here with you?”

“Ow, sorry for shocking you...” A man with a purple hair smiled at you. You gave him back a smile. The one that is not forced but genuine. You don't know why but his presence carry an unknown feeling that soothes your worries. But you won't admit it because of course, you just met him tonight in less than an hour— less than a minute, rather.

You gave him a hesitant nod and adjusted your position so he can comfortably sit beside you.

“I never saw you here in this area before... are you a new resident?” He asks as he sips his drink.

“Yeah... I actually just came earlier and I happen to see this café on my way here and thought that maybe I can give it a try.” You smiled as you looked down on your lap. You are shy to talk to someone else about your day because you are used to yapping to the twins or him.

“Oh, that's really nice! I can recommend you a lot of amazing places that are near here.” He giggled. His cute gestures while talking makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

You guys talked until both of you finished your meal. You really enjoyed the stories that he told you— or maybe, you just like the excitement in his eyes as he talks about things that you cannot relate to.

“Where do you live? I'll accompany you to make sure that you get back home safely.” He said as he looks down on you. You are a lot smaller than him and it makes you embarrassed but you hide it.

“I live in that building— just five buildings away from here.” You pointed.

“What a coincidence! I also live there!” He excitedly said as he chuckled. “Which floor is your apartment in?” he asked.

“Fifth floor, apartment 502” you shortly replied, sleepiness evident from your eyes and tone.

You guys talked again as you both walked towards the building. He never ran out of stories and it is also convenient for you because it helps you to stay awake as you both walk.

You both reached the door of your apartment. You turned and looked at him to say thank you and good night.

“Thank you... I never really asked for your name after all that yapping we did.” You both laughed.

“I’m Rafayel, by the way. And also, I live here in 501— In front of your apartment... hehe...” he massaged the back of his neck as he let out an awkward and shy chuckle.

“That’s nice to know! But you're full of secrets huh..” you teased him and he smiled.

“My apologies...” he hesitated to continue his words because he also does not know your name yet.

“Y/N... My name is Y/N.”

“Yeah, Y/N. What a lovely name.” You smiled at his compliment and lightly pinched his arm while giggling.

“Uhh before I forgot, here's my contact number. I'm literally living just in front of your home but I rarely come out because I usually paint or I'm not home because of something... Maybe you can call me when you need help.” He handed you his phone so you can type his contact number on yours. You also typed your contact number in his phone so he can also call you when he needs help.

“It’s nice to meet you, Raf! But I really need to rest now, my body is screaming for some sleep.” You warmingly smiled at him and he blushed because of your smile and the nickname that you gave him.

“Take a rest now, Y/N. I'll see you again tomorrow. Bye!”

You wave your goodbyes to each other as you faced the opposite side of the hallway to go inside both of your own apartments.

You did your night routine. You put layers of layers of skin care and body care in the bathroom and it made you sigh in relief. You felt clean and it makes you happy.

After your pampering routine, you head to the bedroom to get some rest for the night. You jumped on top of the soft bed and hugged your pillows as you pulled the blanket towards your fragile body.

You are so sleepy but you still managed to stare at the ceiling and rethink all the things that happened even when your heart begs you to stop hurting yourself. It is painful but you can't help to get your mind away from the thoughts about it. It is like your mind is not your own, but his.

But out of all the painful memories that you reminisced about, you still smiled at the thought of having a new friend and life in a new city. Maybe, just maybe, you can start a new life without him. Away from the memories of him.

You are so drawn on the memories of the past and what could have been if MC never returned. A part of you wants to free yourself from his life but a part of you also wants to come back and make him realize that you are the one that stayed with him in this lifetime.

But you do not stand a chance with fate.

You remembered the things that MC told you that made your heart ache. “We’re tied by fate, while you? oh, you're nothing but his little secretary for years... and you will stay in that place while you watch us be connected and build our future family...”.

She was aware...

She was fucking aware of the feelings that you have for Sylus that you buried just for the sake of their bond. Her evil character that was disguised before really makes you amused.

You begged your mind to stop replaying the evil things that she said. You pulled your hair and curled up into a ball. Your tears run in your cheeks as your heart tightens. Tugging your shirt did not help and it makes you more miserable.

You love him but your mind tells you to hate him for throwing away everything that you did just for his bond with MC. You hate the way that he picked the months that he is with MC than the years that you stayed for him, no matter what the situation is.

Darkness slowly took over you as your chest became more tighter, making it hard for you to breath. The pain is suffocating you but you can't do anything about it. After all, he is still the medicine for the pain that he also caused.

You felt your eye lids becoming more and more harder to keep open until you decided to let the darkness completely consume you.

“I don't know what will happen to me but I know that I wouldn't want to see you in the moment that I wake up.” You said as you slowly closed your eyes, still crying because of the pain.

“I love you Sylus... but I'm slowly starting to hate you...”

(Note: Idk if this will reach a lot of readers and I don't know if I should do a part 2 hehe)

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part seven)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The next morning, you sleep in, recovering from the party. Your head is still foggy as you scroll through your phone in bed, thinking about last night.

You spent a lot of time with Blake. He was nice and charming and all you did was talk and share innocent touches. He’s nothing but green flags.

Yet your mind kept reminding you of Rafe. And it kept replaying the sight of him kissing another girl.

Something between you two shifted the other day, when you dropped by after his dad’s visit. You agreed that you were friends. And then did something that friends definitely don’t do.

Then, of course, he took a few days to be a jerk. But last night, he mustered up a sorry for you, flirting with you again.

It’s almost like he’s leaving breadcrumbs, making you think he has feelings, with the possessiveness and the compliments and the looks he gives you. But time and time and time again, Rafe proves to you that he’s a douchebag who’s not looking for anything more than sex.

And neither are you, you remind yourself. Not with Rafe. He would break your heart if given the chance. And you’re not giving him the chance.

You see a text from Rafe from a couple of hours ago: you up?

You reply: i am now.

You open Instagram to see that Blake posted a story a few minutes ago. It’s a photo of a sign on the side of a building. He’s at a paintball range with his frat brothers. It must be another bonding event.

The text on the photo reads: let’s goooo red team.

You reply to the story: putting all my money on the red team.

He responds: I’ll win for you :)

Rafe has never played paintball before, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. His gun is loaded with blue pellets and he has Blake in his sights before the starting bell even rings.

This will be the best way to release his anger over the fact that he’s losing you. Well, other than getting naked with you and fucking until he can’t think straight. But you weren’t answering your phone this morning. So, this’ll do.

The field is vast under the cloudy sky, cluttered full of obstacles and barriers and embankments. When the game starts, Rafe has one goal and one goal only.

He hates how you were smiling at Blake last night. He hates how you touched his shoulder. How you laughed. How close you were.

Mere minutes into the game, he’s behind a colorfully splattered wall and finally finds Blake in his crosshairs. His finger presses down on the trigger over and over and over again, each pop loud and echoing, coating the front of Blake’s vest with bright blue drops of paint.

“Jesus, Rafe, I think you got him, man!” one of his teammates shouts with a laugh.

Even though one of his buddies on the red team nails Rafe in his arm a couple of times near the end of the round, the game ends in a blue team victory.

As the boys make their way back into the building, Blake shoves Rafe’s shoulder.

“The fuck was that, Cameron?” Blake asks, pointing to his vest, sheathed in blue. His smile is wide, but his tone is sharp. He’s trying to hide it, but he seems actually pissed off. Good.

“My bad, man,” Rafe half-chuckles, lifting his helmet off his head. “Got lost in the game. I love to win.”

The high from winning this stupid game is so intensely gratifying that Rafe wants to keep beating Blake in everything. Including in getting your attention.

When Rafe checks his phone as they leave the range, he sees you finally responded. He’s craving you now, but he’ll see you in a few hours at tonight’s party. And he wants Blake to see you with him.

He was stupid to think he could stay away from you. He’s going to see you as many times as you let him before your touches with Blake have more meaning behind them.

The “anything but clothes” party is slated to start at the Sigma Chi house in a few minutes. You and Liv decide to show up right on time to hang out with the guys and drink before the liquor runs out.

You made a stop at a party store off-campus to buy rolls of caution tape together, deciding to wrap the bright yellow nylon into haphazard tube tops and mini skirts, stuck together with clear packing tape. You’re careful so that the sticky tape is only on the caution tape, not directly touching any skin at all.

When you enter the house, you follow the noise in the kitchen. A group of frat boys are in the dining room, setting up the keg and putting out cups.

Blake and Rafe are standing with four other guys, talking as they set up.

Rafe should’ve put more effort into what he wore. He has a towel around his hips and when you walk in wearing next to nothing, he regrets it immediately. A boner would be way too fucking obvious.

Blake greets you with a side-hug and Rafe cracks his knuckles under the table.

“Hey, how was paintball?” you ask. “Did you win?”

“Lost and I’m wounded.” Blake’s wearing a plastic bag over his chest and another around his hips. He puts his hand over his sternum, the bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

“What the hell happened?” you laugh, placing your hand on his. He pretends to wince in pain when you touch him, making you laugh again. The sight makes Rafe scowl.

“Rafe went all Scarface on him,” Sam says. You look to Rafe, and at the same time, glass shatters in the kitchen behind you.

“Shit!” a guy shouts.

“So glad tomorrow’s thing is outside,” Blake mumbles. “This place is a mess and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“What’s tomorrow?” you ask.

“Family day,” Sam says. “We’re having a barbecue.”

“Do you guys have something going on every weekend?” Liv asks.

“Pretty much,” Blake in a bragging tone.

“And when do you study?” you say.

“During the week, fun police,” Blake mumbles with a playful smile. You hate the label and think back to a conversation you had with him over text about nicknames.

“Don’t call me that, babe,” you respond. Blake told you before that he loathes being called babe.

Rafe doesn’t know you’re saying it ironically. And he’s trying not to lose his mind. He looks down at his beer and takes another sip.

A moment passes and he doesn’t notice that Blake is trying to get his attention until he realizes seven pairs of eyes are on him.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Who are you bringing tomorrow?” Blake repeats.

“I’m not coming.” Rafe can’t imagine even mentioning the event to anyone in his family.

“What? Why not?” Blake says. “I need to meet who raised you to be so fucking competitive.”

Rafe looks away the same way he did when you confronted his dad for yelling at him. It’s not exactly annoyance in his expression, like you’re used to seeing. It’s discomfort. Embarrassment.

You don’t want anyone to grill him. Not about his family. You can still hear the way his father snapped at him, asked what he was crying for.

“Sounds like you’re just mad that you’re such an easy target,” you say to Blake, primarily to take everyone’s eyes off of Rafe.

You earn a few jeers, heads turning back in your direction. Rafe’s eyes find yours and you glance at him to see a softened expression, the hard lines in his face suddenly gone.

“I’d like to see you try to play paintball,” Blake says.

“Yeah, you’re really selling it,” you respond sarcastically, snapping your gaze back to meet his.

“What other events do you guys have planned?” Liv asks.

As Blake goes into the schedule for the rest of the year - including a community service drive, a Sadie Hawkins formal, and a camping trip - Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you.

He can’t forget how you stood up to his father, a total stranger, and told him to calm down. He can’t forget how happy your silly little gift made him.

Maybe you were just flirting with Blake, but he wonders if you purposely took the attention off of him, knowing what you know about his family.

You two are friends that have great sex, he knows that, but he’s staring at you like you’re more. You can be irritating and a tight-ass, but you’re kind and thoughtful, too.

Rafe looks away. These thoughts make him uneasy all over. He’s not a feelings kind of guy. And Blake is so obviously your type and Rafe is nothing like him.

He’s not stupid. Anything more than sex between you two would be ridiculous.

The house fills up with partygoers quickly, air thickening, music loud and conversations even louder.

Later on in the night, Rafe’s buzzed and standing by the keg, watching you dance with your friend. The way you roll your hips reminds him of how you move when you’re on top of him and he needs to force himself to look away before he gets hard. Again.

Eventually, he notices you head towards the back of the house alone and he takes the opportunity to talk to you.

When you leave the bathroom and head down the dark hallway back towards the party, you notice Rafe leaning by the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. There’s only a handful of people around, engaging in quiet, private conversation as the music throbs around you.

“Hey,” he says. He wishes he thought of something more clever to say, but he’s pretty close to being drunk.

It’s kind of sweet that he’s waiting here for you. But then you remind yourself he’s just horny.

“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting down his athletic body and to the navy blue towel sitting at his hips. “Pretty lazy of you to use a towel.”

“Nah, it’s smart,” he quips. “That tape is perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say.

“You can read, can’t you?” Rafe simply says, his hand ghosting over the bold CAUTION on your chest. You look down at the way his long fingers just barely brush over your breasts, imagining the way they were massaging you earlier this week.

The reminder sends a swirl of warm passion in your core. You want him again. And again. And again.

“Are you trying to say I’m dangerous? I’m not the one attacking people during an innocent game of paintball.”

“I got hit, too, okay?” Rafe complains. He brings his right arm forward, showing you his flexed bicep.

“I don’t see anything,” you laugh.

“These red marks are turning into bruises,” he says, pointing to his skin. “I’ll need you to take care of me.”

“I think you’re just being a fuckboy,” you respond.

Rafe’s smirk is playful and inviting and you realize you’re only inches away from each other, eyes connected and smiles mirrored.

You want to see him naked again. Neither of you had any pointers last time you hooked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re done learning, right?

“I’ve never gotten a ‘you up?’ text at ten in the morning,” you say. Admittedly, you were a little dejected that he didn’t reply to your message earlier today.

“You woke up late,” Rafe says, eyebrows quirking up for a second. “When’d you even get home?”

In reality, he wants to know if you were with Blake. He didn’t see you at last night’s party after he made out with a girl just to unsuccessfully make you jealous. Maybe you messed around with Blake and stayed up late with him.

“I don’t remember,” you admit with a defeated laugh. “I think I need to cool it on the partying. You frat boys never stop. I can’t believe how many things you guys have going on.”

Rafe breathes a sardonic chuckle, looking down, and you’re immediately reminded of tomorrow’s event.

Just like that, the air between you shifts. You’re both thinking of the same thing. You’re painfully aware of it.

Silence settles between you and you nervously scratch your arm.

“I wouldn’t want to bring him, either,” you finally say. Rafe’s eyes meet yours. He instantly knows you’re talking about his father.

Now he’s sure you weren’t just carrying on conversation with Blake earlier. You purposely took the attention off of him. Because you’re friends. Friends help each other.

“Yeah,” is all Rafe can say.

“Did you…” you say softly. “Do you not have anyone else you’d want to come?”

Rafe thinks of his life back home. His father, who never shies away from expressing his disappointment. His step-mother, who he has no relationship with. Sarah, who’s the clear favorite. Wheezie, who Rafe actually likes and sort of misses, but wouldn’t be able to visit on her own.

“No,” he admits. “It’s… I don’t have that kind of family.”

“Must be why you’re into this whole frat thing,” you say. You can’t stop yourself from trying to understand his complexities.

Rafe didn’t think about it that way. But the sense of camaraderie he has with his frat brothers, except for one in particular, does give him a sense of belonging he’s been chasing forever. He didn’t even realize it until you said it.

But that’s what you do. You make him think and feel things he hasn’t before and it’s so uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.

“You’re…” Rafe tugs at his earlobe. “You’re a really nice person.”

“What?” You laugh in disbelief. Is he being sweet to you outside of the bedroom?

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he says. “When he asked me why I’m not going tomorrow, you changed the subject.”

He can’t say Blake’s name.

“Guilty,” you say. You settle into eye contact that’s unlike anything you two have shared before. Rafe huffs, wanting to force away the tension sitting in his chest.

“I think you’re into this whole frat thing, too, by the way,” he says. He leans even closer to you, blue eyes focused on your lips.

“Not at all,” you joke, shaking your head. “I hate you guys.”

“Really,” Rafe mutters, his tone low. “Even me?”

“Especially you.”

“You don’t remember what you said last time we fucked? When I asked if I could put it in?”

Your skin burns as you think back to the way he asked you if you were ready before burying into you.

“You must be thinking about another girl,” you say. He won’t even entertain the thought.

“You said please,” he rasps.

“Well, at least I have manners,” you reply, looking him in the eye as anticipation curls in your stomach, refusing to shy away.

“You gonna beg me for it again?”

“I did not beg,” you respond.

You want to tease him even more, tell him you thought you were experts now, so what’s the point of hooking up anymore? But you don’t need it to be instructional to have sex with him. He doesn’t seem to need it, either.

“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about liking it.” His smirk is taunting. This cracks you, a smile spreading on your face again, your eyes trailing down his bare chest.

“Maybe,” you tease. It’s a lie. You’re not shy at all anymore. The sense of shame you felt around sex before is gone. At least with Rafe, it has.

“How can you be shy when you’re wearing that?” Rafe asks. “Showing fucking everything.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, nose crinkling. The way you cock your head as you gaze at his body, your lashes fluttering as you blink, makes his gut warm and his groin tighten. Wow. He really doesn’t even need to touch you to get hard.

“And don’t act like you don’t like my outfit,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You shock yourself with your forwardness. He looks pleasantly surprised, too.

You hear your name being shouted. Liv rushes towards you, hands pressed over her chest.

“My tape broke,” she laughs. “I almost flashed everyone.”

“Really?” you gasp. Rafe is annoyed that you got interrupted, but he finds that he really likes what caring for somebody looks like on you. Your eyes deepen. Your brows lower. Your guard is down. You’re stunning.

“We should’ve brought extra tape,” Liv says.

“We can borrow a shirt,” you suggest. “Let’s find Blake.”

Rafe is seething. Blake. Of fucking course.

You offer Rafe a tight smile before taking your friend’s hand and walking in front of her to shield her.

When you find Blake, he leads you and Liv upstairs to his room, scrambling through his dresser to find a shirt for Liv.

“I’m not gonna get kicked out for wearing clothes, am I? It’s against the rules,” Liv says.

“No, only ‘cause you’re friends with fun police over here,” Blake replies, smiling over his shoulder as he hands a black shirt to Liv. “Special privileges.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you say with a laugh. Liv pulls the shirt over her head.

“Thanks!” she calls as she walks out of the room, a grin on her face. You know she’s purposely leaving you alone with Blake.

You meet Blake’s eyes, standing in the middle of his quiet, private room.

“Study fort’s gone,” you notice, looking down at his bare floor.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says stiffly. It’s awkward between you and you’re not sure why. “You look…”

Blake doesn’t finish his sentence. You knew he was a bit on the shy side, but he’s actually nervous.

You would normally find it endearing. But because of the intoxicating way Rafe was talking to you downstairs, how he’s so unafraid of telling you how attracted he is to you, you feel tense around Blake for the first time.

Still, intrigue coarses through you. You like him. You want him to flirt with you and to touch you and to finally kiss you. But he’s still.

Rafe spots your friend in the crowd with a t-shirt on. And you’re not next to her. He pushes through people to stand beside Liv and ask her where you are.

“Upstairs with Blake,” Liv simply responds. Rafe glances up the staircase, lips twisting as he nods. He stalks away, storming through the house with no real idea of where to go.

He paces around for a few minutes. He wants to rush upstairs and hurt Blake. Badly. Without a paintball gun this time. The thought of you being up there in his room, of his hands on you, of him on top of you… It’s too much. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that it hurts.

Rafe has had enough. He heads back towards the front of the house, not sure what the hell he’ll do if he walks in on Blake on top of you, but before he can go upstairs, he sees you in the crowd, chatting with your friend.

“I left you alone up there for a reason,” Liv says quietly when you approach her.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you laugh. “But the vibe was weird, so I left. I think we were both nervous.”

After Blake couldn’t finish his sentence, you thanked him for helping your friend and split.

“Do you not like him?” Liv asks.

You do. But you think you like someone else, too. And it’s terrifying.

Rafe weaves through the crowds, approaching you, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You watch him duck to speak into your ear.

“Leave with me,” he says so only you can hear him over the music. You look at Liv, who has a sly, knowing expression on her face.

“I can’t abandon my friend just to hook up with you,” you say to him. A painful pang of rejection twists inside him.

“But do you want to?” Rafe asks. He needs to be sure. What if your next words are that you’re with Blake now?

Your pulse is racing. The promise of another night with Rafe is electrifying.

“Yes,” you admit. He smiles to himself, pulling back to look at Liv.

“You gonna be okay if she leaves?” Rafe says, tilting his head towards you.

“Of course, if she wants to,” Liv replies with an amused laugh.

Rafe pulls you towards him, out of the crowd. And for once, he’s actually glad to see Blake, who’s standing by the keg with a few friends.

He wraps his arm around your waist, mumbling to you that he’s going to rip that stupid tape off of you, as he glares at Blake, who’s staring at you two with a disconcerted grimace.

He leads you out of the rowdy house, grip tight on you as if he could lose you again.

The second you’re in Rafe’s dorm room, his hands are on your ass, fingers dipping under the tape. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him heatedly as you stand by his bed.

You can smell his cologne and his shampoo as his tongue runs over yours.

“You know everyone was looking at you tonight, right?” he says between kisses.

“No,” you scoff. While he’s helped you gain some confidence, you can’t imagine thinking of yourself as the most desired girl in a room.

“I told you not to do that,” he says against your lips. You feel the nylon around your ass lift off your skin as he tugs it away, pulling apart the material, tape unsticking.

“Do what?” you mutter. He grips your ass, feeling the fabric of your underwear on his palms. You lower a hand to undo the knot keeping up the towel on him.

“You pretend like you’re not beautiful and it pisses me off,” he says. Beautiful. He said hot before. But not beautiful. He never used that word with you. “How hard do I have to fuck you for you to get it?”

“Rafe,” you gasp with a giggle.

“How hard?” he asks. “Until you can’t talk?”

His towel drops and he kisses your neck, tugging at the tape bound around your chest. You shift to wrap your hand around his length over his boxers, aching for the feeling of him inside of you.

Rafe loves that you touch him like this now, without any hesitation. He rips the tape off of your chest, his fingers burning.

While you wore panties just in case, you’re glad you went without a bra simply because of the way Rafe breathes when he looks down to see your bare chest.

He fondles your tits with eager, rough movements, squeezing as he clenches his jaw.

“Every guy was staring at you, but only I get to do this.” His lips are against your neck, breath hot.

You tense for a second. He shouldn’t say shit like this. His words are possessive and tender and way too fucking heavy.

But you push yourself out of your head, focusing on how you feel physically, forgetting the emotions that have slowly been tacking themselves onto you like the crumpled tape on the floor.

You dip your hand into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his girth. Rafe inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. You drag your hand to his tip, feeling the warm precum and spreading it with your thumb.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“You like that?” you whisper with a smile. It’s exciting talking like this. You were always quiet when hooking up with a guy, but Rafe has pushed you completely out of your shell.

“Get on my bed,” he says gruffly, pressing your hips back. You lie down, watching his cock spring out of his boxers when he tugs them off.

Rafe almost asks to skip the condom, but it feels too intimate. Too serious. And he’s sure you’d say no.

You pull your panties off as he rolls on the latex and gets on his knees, sinking onto the mattress, hands gripping your ankles. He shifts and rests your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hands skimming down your legs.

He drags a thumb over your wet clit, gazing down at you with yearning as he spreads your slick arousal over you. You moan at the sensation, realizing just how sensitive you are from how long it’s been and how much you missed him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” Rafe rasps. “Who got you like this, baby?”

“You did,” you reply. The words coming out of your mouth are so fucking soothing. He can’t think about anyone else doing this to you. Only him.

Rafe pulls his hand off of you to grip your thigh and holds his cock at its base with his other hand, tapping it over your middle. You look at him, eyes meeting in an exquisite, mutual longing.

“Say please,” he teases.

“You say please,” you reply, smirking. Rafe shakes his head in disbelief and awe and desire, his hair falling over his forehead.

He can’t wait. He guides himself into you, slipping in so easily, feeling just how drenched and tight and warm you are. He groans as you take him in with a deep breath, tilting to feel the curve of his cock.

“That’s so fucking nice,” he whispers, watching himself push into you. “Your pussy is so fucking nice.”

His fingers dig into your thigh as he pulls back and pushes in again. You throw your head back as he shoves himself into you, filling you completely, the pressure hard and incredible.

Rafe’s thumb is on your clit again, rubbing in circles as he thrusts, making you tremble. Your mouth is agape, your hands above your head as he pleasures you.

It’s such a phenomenal view to him. Pleasure written on your face, your tits bouncing, your chest heaving, your body jolting.

You feel your stomach tighten, the rising sensation making you moan. Rafe starts to go harder, rubbing faster, a smile curling on his lips as he watches you.

“I…” you breathe. “Fuck, I…”

“Can’t talk?” he rasps, amused. You bite your bottom lip and moan a giggle, willing yourself to look at him before he has to tell you to.

His gaze is piercing into you as you feel yourself dissolve into ecstasy, your body going numb before it heats with the most amazing feeling you’ve ever had.

Rafe feels you clenching around his cock and he leans over to get as deep into you as possible, your legs bending as his shoulders push you forward.

After you come down from your orgasm, he places his hand on your cheek, dipping his thumb into your mouth.

You stare at him as he drives into you and you wrap your lips around his thumb, tasting yourself. Rafe might just go crazy. You take him so much better than he’s ever had before.

He tightens and you watch the euphoria wash over his face, his brows furrowing and his lips parting. You love that you can do this to him, that a man so commanding and dominant and brash crumbles like this when he’s inside you.

He cums in hard pulses, hips bucking with every jerk, seeing stars. When he slowly pulls out, you close your eyes, sighing in pleasure.

Your palms rest over your eyes, feeling high off the feeling as you feel him shift off the mattress. When you catch your breath, you open your eyes to see Rafe offering you a towel.

“You have fun?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to do the whole aftercare thing, but because it’s not genuine, you’d rather not play along.

It’s clear he wants you to leave with the way he’s holding out the towel, surely wishing you’d cover up and go. You’re not surprised. You sit up, taking the towel and wrapping it around your body.

“C-minus,” you say.

“What?”

“Kidding,” you laugh. You stand to leave and decide to let him deal with the mess of caution tape on his floor, desperate to be alone so you can pull yourself together.

You go so suddenly that Rafe watches his door shut with confusion. He thought you’d wipe yourself down with the towel he gave you, maybe sit a while with him.

He oddly wanted you to stay a little bit. He liked joking around with you earlier tonight. It was fun.

But you were so eager to go. Probably because Rafe is the kind of guy you fuck and forget, and Blake is the kind of guy you make love to and stick around for.

He knows that he’s in a competition he’ll eventually lose because he can’t offer you a relationship. You said yourself he’d be the worst boyfriend ever the night he told you not to cuddle him.

But he’ll happily take these nights with you for as long as possible. And he’ll keep fighting for as many as he can.

When you make it to your dorm, you sit on your bed, breathless. Just when you think the sex can’t get any better with Rafe, it does.

He almost disappointed you with his lack of emotion afterwards, but you’re glad you didn’t give him the power to. He’ll always let you down in that department. As long as you keep any feelings for him at bay, you know you’ll be fine.

After you feel a bit calmer, you check your phone to see five texts.

Liv: didn’t get a chance to tell you but rafe is down BAD for you

Liv: when i told him you were upstairs with blake he looked like he was about to kill someone

Liv: hope you have fun lol :)

Liv: i sure am… i made out with sam after you left… oops

Then you see a block of text in the next notification.

Blake: Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

(part eight)

author’s note: thank you anon for this iconic idea!!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[sh4nksslvt]

Stuck on You

Some prankster superglues Marco’s hand to yours. You both pretend to hate it… but secretly enjoy staying glued together.

Marco x gn! reader | ONE SHOT

Tags: fluff, flirting, chaos, sfw

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

word count: 3.3k

MINORS DNI!!

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It all started with a prank.

A very bad prank.

One minute you were standing on deck, minding your own business, chatting with Marco about nothing in particular — and the next minute, someone (you had your suspicions) superglued your hand to his.

Literally.

Palm-to-palm.

Fingers intertwined.

"You have got to be kidding me-yoi," Marco muttered, staring down at your very stuck hands with the emotional range of a man who had survived actual wars but could not survive this level of annoyance.

You tugged.

Marco tugged.

Your hands stayed locked together like some sort of romantic death grip.

"…Well," you said, very eloquently.

"Well," Marco echoed, voice utterly dry.

From somewhere behind a barrel, muffled snickering erupted. You both turned in time to see a few crewmates (Ace, you would bet your next paycheck) sprinting away at full speed, laughing their asses off.

Marco sighed heavily. "Should've seen that coming, yoi."

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed. "You think they superglued us together… on purpose?"

Marco gave you a long look, deadpan as hell. "…No-yoi. It was a coincidence that someone left industrial-strength glue exactly where we were standing."

You snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. "Fair enough, Mr. Smartass."

He smirked, tugging lightly at your conjoined hands again. No dice. You were fused like some godawful romantic statue.

"Guess we’re stuck-yoi."

You both stared at your hands, at each other, at your hands again.

Slowly, you realized the entire deck was staring.

Crewmates leaned against rails, poked their heads out of doors, peered from crow’s nests. Watching. Waiting.

You could almost hear the bets forming.

You hissed under your breath, "Don't make a scene. Act natural."

Marco smiled, the slow lazy kind that made your heart do stupid cartwheels.

"You think we’re good at ‘natural' -yoi?"

You elbowed him (gently, because, you know, superglue). "Walk. Casual. Now."

He obligingly started walking, swinging your joined hands obnoxiously like you were newlyweds on a stroll. You tripped trying to keep up with his stupid long strides, and Marco had the audacity to chuckle under his breath.

"Oh, you're enjoying this," you accused, half-laughing, half-glaring.

Marco tilted his head innocently. "Why wouldn’t I enjoy being glued to such charming company-yoi?"

You blinked.

Heat flared up your neck.

Was that… flirting?! From Marco?!

You decided to play it cool. "Obviously, I'm the lucky one. Being stuck with the infamous cool guy of the crew."

He arched an eyebrow. "Cool guy?"

You nodded sagely. "Yeah. All mysterious and strong and… broody. You know. Classic heartthrob material."

Marco actually laughed, full-throated and amused.

"You've been spending too much time with Ace, yoi," he said, but his thumb was rubbing slow circles into your knuckles — absent-minded, soft — and he made no move to pull away.

You pretended not to notice.

The ship doctor declared the situation "temporarily incurable" unless you wanted to rip off some skin.

You did not want that.

So you and Marco were officially handcuffed together for the next few hours, possibly longer.

The announcement spread through the ship like wildfire. Everywhere you went, people tried to hide their snickering — and failed spectacularly.

At lunch, you had to sit next to Marco. (Technically, on Marco, because the bench was too narrow and you kept bumping into him.)

Passing plates was a disaster.

You dropped a spoon into Marco’s lap at one point, and he just gave you a look so dry it could set fires.

You grinned sweetly. "Oops."

"You’re doing this on purpose."

"Maybe," you sang, swinging your legs.

Marco grunted — but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

After lunch, things got worse.

You tried to help Marco with paperwork.

Emphasis on tried.

"Hold still, yoi," he muttered, trying to shuffle through documents with one hand while your hand clumsily trailed after his.

"This is your fault," you whispered dramatically.

"You touched me first."

"You glued yourself to me!"

"You leaned into the glue puddle-yoi."

"You—!" you sputtered.

The tension snapped — you both cracked up, laughing so hard the pen rolled off the desk.

Sometime around sunset, you found yourself sitting on the figurehead of the ship, watching the ocean shimmer gold. Marco sat next to you, your hands still hopelessly, ridiculously intertwined.

The atmosphere shifted — soft, quieter.

A breeze tugged at your hair.

Marco turned his head lazily, regarding you out of the corner of his eye.

"You know," he said casually, "if you wanted to hold my hand… you could’ve just asked-yoi"

You almost fell off the ship.

"I did not plan this!" you yelped, cheeks burning hotter than a volcano.

Marco chuckled — that low, warm sound you could feel in your ribs.

"I know," he said, a little softer. "But still."

You glanced down at your hands — how perfectly they fit together, the way his thumb lazily traced circles over your skin without even thinking.

"…It’s not so bad," you admitted, voice small.

Marco smiled.

Not the lazy, cocky smirk he gave everyone else — a real, soft smile that made your heart flutter traitorously.

"Nah-yoi," he agreed, squeezing your hand. "Not bad at all."

When the glue finally wore off (courtesy of some miracle solvent the ship doctor whipped up late at night), you both sat there for a second.

Free.

Hands separated.

No excuse anymore.

Marco looked at you.

You looked at Marco.

Long pause.

"…We’re allowed to hold hands without glue, you know," you blurted, immediately wanting to jump overboard from sheer embarrassment.

Marco laughed — really laughed — and before you could hide your face, he caught your hand again, lacing your fingers together easy as breathing.

"No more excuses-yoi," he said, lips brushing your temple in a featherlight kiss.

You clung tighter.

Maybe being stuck together wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[swiftdove]

bleeding crimson

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: no matter how much you try to run from the truth, the road leads you back onto the path, forcing you to confront the thorns from your past.

content: angst, tension, knife-play, dark actions, slight smut

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a part 2 i feel like this is a very monumental moment for me

part 2 to collateral damage

Later that night, you had found yourself leaning against the trunk of the tree, willing yourself to sleep. Yet, despite your best efforts, the earlier conversations seeped into your mind, forcing out any rational thought. 

It wasn't right, how easily they managed to pull you back under their spell. They knew exactly which buttons to push to get what they wanted, whilst your skills had rusted over time. The way they treated you; it was as though they'd never left. It was almost comical, how little they'd suffered over their abandonment of you, how they expected everything to be the same as it was. You knew they were wicked, downright evil, but you hadn't expected them to be this selfish. Your sympathy for them was fading, as was your will to fight against their seductive charm. There must've been something grievously wrong about you to have even looked their way. Perhaps it was the mutual damage, the way you all understood each other so perfectly. Perhaps it was that that let you excuse their past actions. The idea that maybe, just maybe, you could fix them.

You had snapped right out of that attitude when you had seen Agatha act so apathetically about Sharon's death. It may have been the one thing that could have finally let you move past her. But earlier today, when she had tried so desperately to save Teen, redeemed her. You hated that about her - the way she flickered from evil to morally gray. 

And Rio, who balanced out Agatha's wickedness. You felt it, how her eyes always lingered on you. But never for longer than she did with Agatha. 

The reasons against them were stacked, and yet there was still that one part of you that wondered about what a reconciled relationship with them would entail. Most likely more damage to your already fragile mind. Then again, you'd always found that pain turned you on.

The sound of footsteps jolted you out of your train of thought, immediately waking you up from your half-asleep state. 

"Who's there?" you called, failing to mask the fear in your voice.

"Your worst nightmare," a demonic voice resounded, which you instantly recognized to be one of Rio's attempts to humour you.

The witch came into sight, accompanied by the last person you wanted to see right now.

Despite your pronounced hate for them, you couldn't deny that they looked perfect - especially under the glow of the moonlight. 

"What are you doing here?" you murmured, smoothing out a wrinkle in your blouse. 

"Couldn't sleep," Rio replied truthfully, eyeing you up and down. Her gaze finally rested on your hands, where you were nervously playing with your index ring, a habit you'd picked up years ago when she'd first bought it for you. 

However, your attention was directed at Agatha, who had adopted a villainous smirk. Something had changed in her tonight; behind her icy blue eyes hid macabre intentions. It was almost comedic how you still felt like you knew every serrated, damaged inch of her soul. Old habits died hard, you supposed.

"What is it, Agatha?" you asked, failing to hide the tremble in your voice. 

"Oh, nothing," she replied, her tone lilted, "it's just ironic, I suppose. All that 'I'm not yours' bullshit and defiant attitude..."

You tensed as she neared you, noticing the way her eyes glinted at your recoiled stance. In a split second, her fingers wrapped around your throat, trapping you in a chokehold.

"... when we both know why you came."

Her grip tightened, her veins becoming more defined as your breathing shallowed.

"Agatha," Rio admonished, prompting her to relax her grip. 

A soft cackle rang through the air as Agatha stroked your cheek with her free hand, reveling in the way you trembled under her touch.

Flashbacks of the life you'd had with them echoed in your mind, memories of your past encounters hammering at the walls of your skull. It was always the same. Agatha, skillfully inflicting the sweetest torture imaginable on your body, whilst Rio sat back and watched. The mocking, saccharine tone Agatha adopted whilst Rio carved their names into your flesh. The way they forced you past your limits, the long, euphoric nights. 

"So helpless," she jested, dragging out her words. "Now, where have I seen that before?"

Your reply was barely audible, interrupted by a hitch in your breath. "Stop."

Ignoring your plea for mercy, she pulled up your sleeve, releasing her grip on your throat. The faint outline of the words 'RIO' and 'AGATHA' were only just visible, having faded after decades of neglect. Agatha swiveled around, jerking your arm out for Rio to see.

"Would you look at that?" Rio marveled. She tutted softly, before brandishing her dagger. A sadistic smile tugged at her lips as she held it to your throat. You flinched away from the cold metal, beads of red decorating the blade. Your attempts to run away from the dagger were foiled when she swiveled you around and secured you waist with her free hand, the other keeping you in place.

"You were so jealous of Rio earlier, weren't you, pet?" Agatha taunted, relishing in the way your eyes narrowed at the use of her pet name. "You wanted me to leave a scar, didn't you?"

If you hadn't had a blade pressed against your throat, you would have called her out for twisting your words. But, in this instance, you couldn't help but shrink back from their towering presences.

Snorting at your silence, she continued with her onslaught of cruel jokes. "Why so silent? Cat got your tongue?"

"There's a blade to my throat, if you haven't noticed," you snapped, causing Rio to add pressure to your skin.

"There's that nasty attitude again," Agatha proclaimed gleefully, circling around you. "How long has it been since you've been properly punished, sweets?"

You recoiled at her use of the word 'punished', your gaze steeling. "Stop," you murmured, failing to mask the quiver in your voice. "I'm not going to indulge in your sick revenge fantasy."

"Aren't you?"

Rio's voice cut through the tension in the air like a knife through butter, her fingernails digging into the side of your waist. Agatha smirked maliciously, tilting your chin up with her calloused fingers. 

"I don't think you have much of a choice, pet."

Satisfied with your silence as a response, she trailed her fingers down to your blouse, roughly unbuttoning it. She pinched at the peak of your breast, relishing in how it hardened at her touch.

"So sensitive," Agatha murmured, twisting it sharply. A small yelp escaped your lips, reprimanded by a sharp cut to the throat. Hot blood trickled down the wound, staining the witch's fingers.

"Agatha -" you gasped, only to be cut off by the sound of Lilia's voice echoing down The Road.

"They're coming. We have to go."

Glancing at the direction of the voice, Agatha withdrew her hand, causing you to sigh in relief. The sound didn't go unnoticed by the witches. Visibly annoyed, Agatha grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

"This isn't over," she threatened, before dramatically whisking her cape and walking away. Rio followed, but not before dragging her dagger over your throat again. When you didn't budge, she looked over her shoulder, glancing at you expectantly.

"Come on," she said, taking ahold of your arm. "We have to go."

As you trailed behind the witches, the warm, crimson blood trickled down the small wound in your throat, bleeding into the collar of your shirt. To anybody else, it would've just seemed like a simple cut, but you knew what it truly was. A symbol, of their claim over you. Hard, cold proof that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't escape their hold over you. And for some strange, demented reason, you found comfort in knowing that. 

The dynamic between you and them remained ever the same. Agatha and Rio, your sacred protectors, and you, a wolf in the clothing of a sacrificial lamb. And despite your pathetic attempts to hide it, you knew that they understood exactly who you were to the very marrow of your bones. 

That was what scared you about them.

[brattysx]

some... fwb x seongjae, angst (boss specialty) fluff smut???? pls i love your blog sm 🤭 i hope u receive requests 😭🙃

🧸-

“Friends?”

Geum Seongjae x reader | Weak Hero Universe | +18 mdni!

Tags: fluff and angst, smut, jealousy, friends with benefits, fwb to lovers, mutual pining, possessive behavior, emotional sex, slow burn, sexual tension, drunk confession, protective male lead, toxic…

They said we were just friends.

So did we.

With one difference: we lied better.

It all started as a joke — an inside joke between two people who pretended to annoy each other out of sheer spite, but deep down used the arguments as an excuse to keep in constant contact. There were barbs, sure, but there were also silences far too long to be merely awkward, looks that lingered past the limits of friendship, and touches that started off casual but ended thick with unspoken tension. There wasn’t a specific moment when we crossed the line, because the line had always been blurred — fragile, volatile. It was a slow process, like a rope stretched until it snapped, and by the time we noticed, we had already fallen — not into love, not yet — but into something intimate, dangerous, and wildly addictive. We weren’t dating. We never dated. That would’ve required courage, honesty, and the willingness to face feelings head-on. Neither of us was ready for that. We lied so well we almost believed it ourselves.

Seongjae was the kind of guy who looked like he had it all under control. Calm face, calculated words, that unshakeable posture. People admired him — some even feared him — because he never showed all of himself. He was a walking mystery. And yet, with me, he let pieces slip — anger, desire, confusion — fragments of himself he tried to smother before they could become real. He was arrogant with others, but with me… it was different. Sometimes it felt like he was fighting something inside himself. Like he was at war — between what he felt and what he thought he should feel. And that was never clearer than when we said — loudly, always — that we couldn’t stand each other. That we were oil and water. But it only took one bitter remark, one sharp exchange, for the anger to spark fire — and for that fire to consume us until there was nothing left but our bodies, tangled together, searching for relief from a pain we hadn’t yet learned how to name.

It was a cycle. Vicious. Almost toxic. A quiet game where we both knew the rules but insisted on pretending we didn’t. A kind of delicious hell, because every fight ended in trembling hands and desperate kisses, and the addiction to being near each other always outweighed the clarity to walk away.

Nobody knew.

Well, nobody knew. But they felt it. That thick tension in the air whenever we were in the same room. The way he looked at me when he thought no one was watching, or how I went quiet just to listen to his laugh, hiding my smile like it was nothing. Even our friends started to comment.

“Don’t you think there’s something going on between them?” I heard someone whisper at the end of class once, while I pretended to look for something in my bag.

“No way. They hate each other.”

“Exactly. That’s why. There’s too much tension for it to be just bickering.”

I swallowed hard. Pretended not to hear. But it stung — because it was true. There was something. Something suppressed, something we fought to deny with everything we had. But it was there. And it was growing. With every touch, every late night together, every time we pretended it was just one more night and not what it had always been underneath: the desperate need to be close, even if we didn’t know what to do with it.

And I was getting tired.

Tired of pretending, of hiding, of feeling small when all I wanted was to be seen. Not just in the dark of his room. Not just in the silence of our secret nights. I wanted to be acknowledged. Spoken aloud. Named. I wanted to exist fully in his life — not just in the in-between moments he didn’t deem important.

The first time I brought it up was after a particularly long night. We were lying across the mattress, breathless, sweaty, the sheets half on the floor. I turned to him, waiting for a touch, a look, something. But he was just there, staring at the ceiling like I wasn’t even in the room. Like nothing had happened. Like I was invisible — even after I’d given him everything. Again.

“You never wanted this,” he said with that fake calm that drove me insane.

“Wanted what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Anything serious. You always said you hated commitment.”

“I said that a year ago, Seongjae. People change.”

He didn’t answer. Just looked away — like he couldn’t bear to meet my eyes and see the reflection of his own cowardice. And that was the moment I knew. He was lying. Again. It wasn’t about me. It never had been. It was about him. About his fear. About the scars he carried that made him choose the safety of a nameless arrangement over the risk of loving me for real.

But I couldn’t keep living off scraps.

I wanted everything. And all he ever gave me was almost.

Almost love.

Almost courage.

Almost truth.

And I didn’t know how much longer I could survive in that “almost” without completely falling apart.

I had asked again. For the third time. But this time, it wasn’t a reckless impulse driven by loneliness or anger. It was different. I had to gather every last inch of courage I had left in me, pick up the pieces he’d been leaving behind bit by bit, and put on the table what had been eating me alive. He knew. He’d always known. The problem was, he never wanted to admit it — not to me, not even to himself.

“Answer me, Seongjae… Why don’t we try something real?” I asked, straight to the point, my voice steady even though I was falling apart inside.

He didn’t reply right away. He blinked slowly, like he was trying to delay the question, postpone the inevitable. He looked down and licked his lips — a nervous tic I’d come to recognize in moments where he felt cornered. The silence between us stretched too long.

“Now’s not the right time,” he muttered at last, with no real conviction. “There’s too much going on. My parents… the union… you know how tense everything is.”

“There’s always something, isn’t there?” I shot back, not bothering to hide the hurt already seeping into my voice. “There’s always some new excuse. A fresh reason. A convenient distraction.”

He drew a deep breath. His posture was the kind of strong that’s built on the edge of collapse. But he would never show it — not to me. Not fully. His eyes avoided mine, as if every time I looked straight at him, he might give in to the truth he tried so hard to silence.

“I don’t want to drag you into my mess,” he said softly, like he thought he was doing me a favor.

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?” I asked, pulling away slightly, swallowing down the ache that now pulsed in my chest. “You use me as a pressure valve, like a sedative for a pain you won’t even share. You want me close when it’s dark, but you shut me out when I want to be in your daylight. That’s not care. That’s cowardice.”

He stayed quiet. Silent the way he always got when I said too many truths. And that silence was deafening. Cruel. Worse than shouting. Because it meant that, once again, he was choosing fear over me. Safety over the risk of something real.

The second time came weeks later. Another night. Another dark room. Another set of sheets that bore witness to our exhaustion disguised as desire. We were lying side by side, not touching, like the bed had turned into neutral ground on a war zone. I looked at him. The profile of his face was lit faintly by the streetlight outside. He looked tired. But it was more than that. There was weight there. Pain. Something ready to snap.

“You’re amazing. You deserve someone who’ll actually claim you,” he said suddenly, as if it were a compliment — a distorted way to protect me.

“And that someone can’t be you?” I asked, without hesitation.

He hesitated. Swallowed hard. His voice came out low, a little broken.

“No… I ruin everything I touch. I always have. I don’t want to hurt you.”

That was his specialty: sounding noble while running away. He’d put himself in the martyr’s seat, like he was doing me a favor by keeping me away, when really he was just hurting me in the slowest, quietest way. And still… I couldn’t hate him for it. Because there was truth in that fear. I saw it in his eyes. He was already in love with me — in his own way. Twisted, silent, terrified. He loved me without knowing how, without knowing what to do with it — so he ran. And hurt. And came up with excuses he could barely keep straight.

But the third time… that’s when it really broke me. The worst one. The one that shattered something in me that would never fit back quite the same.

“You know that if we end up together, it’ll just fall apart. And I don’t want to lose you,” he said, with that sharp honesty of someone who’d rather rip the wound open than try to heal it.

“You’d rather have me halfway than risk losing me for real?” I asked, my voice trembling, my heart screaming on the inside. “Is that what you prefer? This miserable version of presence?”

“I’d rather this than not have you at all,” he said, and this time his eyes locked on mine. And what I saw there wrecked me more than any words: fear. Real, raw, paralyzing fear.

In that moment, I knew he wasn’t going to change. Not now. Maybe not ever. And so, without yelling, without some dramatic scene, I chose to walk away. It was me who chose — because he never made the hard decisions. He just let time and silence make them for him. He just watched as I left. Didn’t try to stop me. Didn’t ask me to stay. Just… let it happen.

“We went our separate ways.” That’s what we said when people asked. Neat words. Convenient. Detached. “It was for the best,” we’d add. Like it had been mature. Like it was mutual. Like I hadn’t cried for days, and he hadn’t locked himself deeper into that shell of his.

But nothing moved on. Nothing continued. The truth was, everything stopped. I felt hollow. Like I’d been ripped out of myself.

And him? He vanished. Disappeared like a ghost, leaving behind only scattered traces. He pretended to be busy with union matters, buried in new conflicts and responsibilities. He acted like he was dealing with bigger things, more important things — when in truth, he was using external chaos to avoid the storm inside him.

And just when I thought the dust was settling, when I thought my feelings might finally fade, he showed up.

Not Seongjae.

Someone else.

Someone new. Someone who spoke to me like he actually saw me. Who listened. Who complimented my smile without needing me to earn it. And even though I didn’t truly want him, I let him get close. Because pretending a new beginning was easier than facing the end of something that had never been said out loud.

He was just a classmate. At first.

Someone nice. Present. Conveniently attentive. The kind who smiled too much, complimented out loud, and made sure to show how much he cared — even when no one asked him to. He started slow, like someone trying to build something solid, but his steps felt too calculated to be innocent. First came the late-night messages — random questions at 2 a.m., like a “are you still up?” was just curiosity, not a poorly disguised excuse to create intimacy. Then the coffees, always just the way I liked them, left on my desk before class with my name scribbled on the lid, like we’d been close for years. And then the invitations — persistent ones: snacks after class, movies, “just friends” walks. I didn’t encourage it, but I didn’t turn it down either. Not because I wanted something with him, but because, in a way, the whole act gave me this petty sense of revenge. Pretending I liked him was a childish — maybe even cruel — way of punishing someone who probably didn’t even know he was being punished.

Or maybe he did.

Seongjae had changed. Quieter. Sharper. More distant, even when he was right there. He didn’t look at me the same way — or pretended not to. If before he made a point of teasing, now he just walked past. If before his sarcastic remarks led to thick tension, now he didn’t speak at all. And when we were in the same group, I could feel his gaze on me — tense, dark, sharp — but the moment I turned to look, he was already pretending to scroll on his phone or stare blankly at the floor, like I was just another shadow in the room.

But it wasn’t indifference. It was held-back rage. Jealousy chewed down until it turned to poison.

His jaw would clench every time the other guy got too close to me, and he gripped his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He never said a word, but his silence screamed. Every time he saw me smiling at the other boy, he’d avert his gaze like it physically hurt. And still — he did nothing. No attempts to talk. No effort to come closer. No confrontation. Seongjae chose to back away. He avoided me everywhere he could: school hallways, union meetings, even the usual spots where we’d always bumped into each other like fate. I started to notice how he’d change directions when he saw me from afar. How he’d switch study rooms. Leave early if I walked in.

And then came the comments.

Mutual friends — unaware of anything — started talking to him about me and me about him, clueless about the weight each word carried. One of them, laughing, said: “Seongjae, did you see your ex-bestie’s all smiles these days? That Minho guy’s glued to her. They’re always together.” Another was more direct: “Honestly thought you’d care. Guess it really doesn’t matter to you, huh?”

He wouldn’t reply. Just frowned slightly and kept doing whatever he was doing. But after that, I’d catch him running his fingers along the side of his neck, like he was trying to soothe something burning from the inside out. That restlessness of his didn’t go unnoticed. And that’s what hurt the most: he refused to get involved. Refused to stop me. Refused to fight.

And I kept pretending I was happy. I smiled in pictures. Laughed at my new admirer’s jokes. Let myself be touched on the shoulder, hugged from behind. I let it happen because I knew Seongjae saw. Even if he didn’t say a word. Even if he avoided me. Even if he acted like I no longer existed — he saw. And it was eating him alive. I could feel it.

Until one night, at a party, things nearly slipped out of control.

We were in a small hall — dim lights, loud music. Just another school event, nothing special. But everyone was there — including Seongjae. He saw me with the other guy the second he walked in. I saw the way his eyes hardened like stone, his whole expression shutting down into something cold and unreadable. He didn’t come talk to me. Didn’t say a word. He stayed across the room, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like part of the decor — but his eyes didn’t leave me for a second. The way he stared made me dizzy.

The guy — the new one — was full of energy. And clingy. He pulled me to dance, wrapped his hands around my waist, whispered something in my ear that made me laugh nervously. I could feel Seongjae’s eyes burning into me, even without looking. He was on fire, and it was almost tangible.

And then, the inevitable: the guy tried to kiss me.

He didn’t hide it. He was direct. Probably thought he’d timed it perfectly. And I, on instinct, turned my face away. Not out of loyalty to Seongjae, not because I was scared of feeling something — but because, in that moment, it just felt wrong. Dirty. Forced. Pointless.

Before I could fully pull back, I turned my head.

And Seongjae’s stare hit me like a blade straight to the chest.

It wasn’t just anger.

It was something darker. Deeper. Desperate.

But he didn’t do anything. He just turned his back and walked out through the side door like the room was on fire and he had to escape.

He left me there — in the middle of loud music and hands I didn’t want to hold.

And for the first time, I wondered if maybe we weren’t just stuck in a game where we had both already lost — but neither of us had the guts to admit it.

Three days later, on a random Friday, he showed up at my door.

No warning. No message. No excuse.

Just him. And the weight of everything we never said.

The scent of alcohol got there before he did. Not strong, but just enough to give him away. His hair was messy, his expression unguarded, his eyes red — and not just from exhaustion. He looked lost, like he’d been drifting ever since the last time we saw each other. And only now had he gathered just enough courage to face the wreckage.

“Are you going out with him?” he asked right away — no hello, no hesitation.

“And what if I am?” I shot back, arms crossed, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart was pounding.

Seongjae let out a dry, bitter laugh, like the question itself was a personal offense.

“That asshole Minho can’t even hold a conversation without sounding like a lovesick teenager. Imagine dating someone like you.” He took a slightly off-balance step forward, swaying a little, but his eyes never left mine. “He doesn’t know you hate clingy people. Doesn’t know you can’t stand when someone talks only about themselves, or that you can’t fall asleep unless the fan’s on — even in the middle of winter.”

“And you do?” I challenged, trying not to flinch.

“I know everything. I know you like your coffee bitter, that you can’t keep quiet when you’re mad, and that you cover up how you feel by joking around. And I know you only let that idiot hang around to get back at me.”

He was visibly shaken. And even with his pride in pieces, what came through was a pain more honest than any half-assed excuse he’d ever given me.

“You’re drunk, Seongjae.”

“Maybe. But I’m not stupid.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I’m drunk off the thought of you with him. That idiot with the tight-ass pants who thinks making you laugh means he gets you. He doesn’t even know you talk in your sleep. I do. I’ve heard you say my name, by the way.” He nodded toward the inside of the house, like every room in it was burned into his memory.

“You only came here because you’re like this,” I said, trying — and failing — to keep my distance.

He smiled, but it was crooked, sad, full of rage.

“I came because I can’t watch that jerk put his hands on you like he has the right. I came because seeing you with someone else felt like someone ripped the air out of my lungs. I came because…” He took a deep breath, his voice dropping, “…because I can’t stand the idea of anyone else knowing you the way I do.”

We stood there in silence for a moment. A silence that hung heavy, trembling between us. He was closer now. I could smell the alcohol mixed with that scent of his I knew too well. And even then, I didn’t step back.

“You got mad, so you came here?” I asked, eyes locked on his.

“Mad? Mad doesn’t cover it.” He lowered his head, laughed again. “You talk about Minho like he’s some kind of prize. Like I didn’t know exactly what you were doing. You were punishing me, weren’t you?” He looked up again, calmer now, but still burning. “Admit it. You knew I’d see it. And you knew I couldn’t take it.”

I stayed silent. My heart pounding like a drum. Because he was right.

He stepped closer. So close I could feel the heat of his body on my skin.

“Tell me you don’t want him,” he said, in a low, husky voice, soaked in jealousy, desire, and pain. “Tell me you still want us.”

“You pushed me away, Seongjae.”

“And now I’m here. I’ll get on my knees if I have to. Just say it. Just tell me it’s still me.”

I didn’t say a word. Just looked at him. And in the next second, he pulled me in. His hands firm on my waist, his breath hot against my skin, his eyes locked on mine — and he kissed me. No asking. No thinking. No permission for pride.

The kiss was rushed, messy at first, fueled by anger, urgency, and all the pain we’d been carrying. But it was real. Alive. Intense. He held me like he needed proof I hadn’t vanished. And I kissed him back like I was tired of pretending I didn’t feel anything anymore.

When we finally pulled apart, he kept his forehead pressed against mine, breathing deep, eyes closed.

“I’m sorry. For everything. I just… I can’t pretend I’m okay watching you with someone else. I can’t.”

And for the first time, he said what he’d always kept buried.

And for the first time… I didn’t want to run.

His breathing was still shaky when his lips pulled away from mine, but his eyes — those eyes that were always so guarded — were now wide open, overflowing with feeling. You could see everything there: the jealousy, the longing, the desire, the fear, and a kind of desperate love that looked like it was choking him from the inside. He was still holding me in his arms, like letting go might actually make me disappear. Like if he dropped me now, I’d vanish for good.

“You drove me crazy,” he murmured, brushing his lips across my cheek, down to the corner of my jaw. “You and that idiot… smiling like you were fine. Do you know how many nights I tortured myself, imagining him touching you? How many times I almost went after you and stopped halfway, thinking I didn’t deserve you anymore?”

His voice was low, hoarse, almost shaking. I could feel the tension in his muscles as he carried me to the bedroom, every step driven by something that wasn’t just anger — it was need. But not the blind rage of someone who wants to punish. It was the frustration of someone who wants to love right and never learned how.

He laid me down on the bed like he was afraid I’d slip through his fingers — even though I wasn’t going anywhere. Not this time. He hovered above me, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. His hands were trembling, but even so, they moved with purpose — down my arms, my waist, my thighs. And every touch left a trail of heat, like he was drawing into my skin all the things he never had the courage to say out loud.

“You’re mine. And not because I’m saying it. Because you’ve always been. Since the beginning. Since that first fight. Since the first touch in the hallway.”

With each word, he lowered himself over me, our bodies aligning like he wanted to melt into me. His hands weren’t rushed — they were slow, deliberate, exploring me with a kind of wild reverence. He knew where to touch. He knew how to take my breath away with just the right pressure of his fingers. And he did it on purpose.

His kisses traced down my neck, hotter now, wetter, more possessive. He bit gently, whispered things in my ear, and I arched under him like my body had memorized this kind of surrender. And he talked. He wouldn’t stop talking.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice rougher now, deeper. I opened my eyes and met his gaze — wide, breathless, holding a truth that hurt to look at. “I want to see you while I have you back.”

Then our bodies began to move together — slow, heavy, like every motion carried months of silence. It wasn’t just sex. It was anger, guilt, confession. But it was also love — raw, urgent, wrecked. He touched me like he was somewhere between worship and collapse. The kisses turned hungrier, the grip of his hands tighter, and the sounds escaping between us were so intimate they felt like the only things that existed.

“I love you,” he whispered again, this time with his lips against my chest, as his body moved against mine. “Do you get it now? I love you so much it hurts. It tears me apart. And still… you’re the only thing that makes it worth breathing.”

I didn’t have words. I just wrapped my legs around him and pulled him closer, deeper — as if I needed to say “I love you too” with everything except my mouth.

And in that bed, with the room dark, the sheets tangled, and the weight of everything we’d held back between us — we finally made love. But not the soft, cinematic kind. It was real love. Messy. Intense. Full of pain, full of longing, full of return. The kind of love that comes from people who broke it, came back, and still don’t know how to fix it — but won’t walk away again.

Because by now, it was too late to deny.

And far too early to stop.

The light slipping through the cracks in the curtain made it clear the day had already begun, but inside the room, everything still tasted like the middle of the night. The sheets were a mess, clothes scattered in random spots on the floor, pillows tossed far from where they belonged — the whole scene looked like it had been painted by some kind of private storm made just for us.

I opened my eyes first. The silence was calm, and Seongjae was still sleeping, lying on his side, his face turned toward me, breathing deeply — almost childlike. His messy hair fell over his forehead, and one arm was draped lazily across his waist like he was still making sure I hadn’t disappeared. He looked… at peace. For the first time in a long time. And even with his face smudged with sleep and a tiny bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, he somehow still managed to be annoyingly handsome.

Suddenly, he groaned.

“My head’s killing me…,” he mumbled, eyes still shut, his voice low and raspy with sleep.

“Well, good morning to you too,” I said with a soft laugh, propping myself up on my elbow to get a better look at him.

“Let’s sleep a little more…” he whispered, reaching out to pull me back in like I was his favorite pillow. “My head’s gonna fall off if I get up right now.”

“You were such a baby last night. And now you’re even cuter — all clingy like this.”

He opened one eye slowly, face scrunched into a fake scowl.

“If I’m the baby, then you’re the blanket. And I’m not leaving you anymore.”

I laughed — couldn’t help it — and tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Get up, Seongjae. We have school.”

“Ugh… real life ruins everything,” he groaned, pulling the sheet over his face. Still, after a few more minutes of stalling, he finally got up, and we got ready together — with quiet laughs and slow, playful touches as we bumped into each other on purpose.

We left the house together, fingers laced, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. Maybe it had always been. We had just taken too long to admit it.

At school, we didn’t bother hiding it. We walked side by side through the main hallway, and it was almost funny to watch people turn their heads, one by one, like they hadn’t seen it coming — even though everyone had always kind of known.

We sat next to each other, same row. He didn’t let go of my hand. From time to time, his fingers brushed against mine, or he’d rest his hand on my thigh — and whenever someone stared, he’d flash that smug little smile of his, the one that now worked in my favor.

But of course… Minho showed up.

I saw him approaching with that overconfident walk, eyes going straight to our joined hands. He froze for just a second, like his brain was still processing what he was seeing — our hands, the smudge of lipstick, the faint purplish mark on my neck. But he held his posture.

“You disappeared last night…” he said, stopping beside us. “Left the party early. You’ve been kinda forgetful lately.”

“Wasn’t feeling too well,” I replied calmly, glancing at Seongjae — whose expression clearly said he wasn’t thrilled to see Minho.

“Oh, right… Must’ve been the dizziness from being around someone who lies to everyone and then vanishes,” he added, slicing his gaze between the two of us. Seongjae had already let go of my hand and straightened up in his seat, jaw clenched tight.

“Minho…” he said in a low voice, with a forced sigh — like he had to find an extra level of patience just because we were in public. Though, it wasn’t about the people around us — it was about me.

“Anyway,” Minho continued, ignoring the warning in Seongjae’s tone, “wanna hang out after class? Just the two of us? There’s something I’ve been meaning to say for a while.”

He already knew.

And Seongjae knew exactly what that kind of line meant coming from a guy — and he wasn’t having it.

Before I could say a thing, Seongjae stood up. Slowly. His eyes locked on Minho’s. His smile was polite — but his gaze? Pure warning.

“She’s not going. Because she already has a boyfriend. That would be me. We’re perfectly fine on our own, so keep your eyes off her before I mess up your face.”

Minho scoffed. Tried to laugh it off like it was some kind of joke.

“Boyfriend?” he repeated with a scoff. “Maybe clarify that — seeing how she wanted me before you ever put a ring on her finger.”

“Yeah. Boyfriend. Official. Holding hands in the hallway, good morning kisses, all the things you’re never gonna get. Oh, and that? That was during our dark phase. We got back together. So don’t ever come near her again,” Seongjae said, his tone harder than before.

Silence fell over the hallway instantly.

Minho said nothing.

He hesitated for a few seconds — then turned and walked away without another word.

Seongjae, on the other hand, sat back down beside me, arms crossed, and shot me a sidelong glance with that familiar, satisfied little smirk.

“Now that’s peace,” he muttered.

“Oh, please… Don’t give me that evil look. You look like a scary baby,” I teased, pouting your lips and kiss him. He chuckled.

I smiled quietly, turned my face toward him, and rested my head on his shoulder. For the first time — no fear. No pretending.

And for the first time… he wasn’t pretending either.

a/n: hii, tyy honey, for you message, i hope you enjoy it. i took a while to reply but here it is, happy reading! 💋🤭

yes, i’m taking requests! anyone who wants to can send them through the ask box, 24/7. see you and bye bye!😸🙃