#i don’t know if this makes sense to anyone but me

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | ch 3 (jjk)

☆summary: when you finally come over to his place, Jungkook realizes he'll need more of you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, alcohol, an NDA (brief mention), explicit content: grinding, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), edging, begging/praise kink, spitting, jerking off, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), creampie

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: i was horny i guess lmao hope you enjoy! this is unedited so beware for typos and stuff that doesn't make sense haha love y'all <3

☆☆☆☆☆

There’s something about you that Jungkook can’t quite figure out.

Maybe it’s the way you signed the NDA when you got to his place, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with playfulness. Maybe it’s the way you teased him, threatening to spill his secrets with a wink that went straight to his dick. Or maybe it’s the way you told him he can’t tell anyone about you either.

It can be our secret, mmh?

Your words have been resonating through him since he made you dinner And he only did so because he wants to spend some time with you, to get to know a little before he actually fucks you, and all that shit. He’s just trying to be decent. But ever since you walked into his apartment with that skirt of yours - showing your indecent, strong legs, and thighs he wants to be crushed by - Jungkook has known he’ll get his dick wet tonight.

Hell, he knew it even before that, but the sight of you has been making him feel feral. It’s nothing new - he’s been feral for you ever since the first time he saw you at the gym, with that stupid Cooky keychain he hated then.

He doesn’t hate it anymore. In truth, he doesn’t even give a shit anymore. Maybe it’s because you have him wrapped around a finger, and he’s ready to make you see stars.

“Thank you for the food,” you say as you sit back in your chair, toying with the glass of the wine you brought. 

He tilts his head to the side, offers a small smirk and says, “Anytime.”

Your eyes glint. They glint like jewels in the sun, and it strikes him deep. “Does that mean it’s time for me to repay you?”

Fuck. His blood shoots down to his dick, and Jungkook stirs in his chair.

“I think we’re on uneven grounds, mmh?” he lets out.

You cock an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I haven’t seen you come yet.”

You smile a small, secretive smile, looking at your wine. “Does that bother you?”

“It does.” He shifts in his chair, leaning closer to you. He suddenly hates that you’re sitting on the other side of the table, but he’ll be patient tonight.

He wants to savour you until the sun comes up.

“So tonight is all about me?” you tease.

He can’t help the small laugh he lets out. “Oh, I think we’ll both find our pleasure.”

It doesn’t take you long after that to get up, walking around the table. Jungkook pushes his chair away from the table, and you straddle his lap with the quiet confidence he likes about you, lowering yourself on him until he’s sure you can feel his dick on you.

And he feels you, feels the warmth radiating off of you, and he already knows his climax will hit harder than it ever has.

“So,” you purr, circling your hips. “What do you want to start with?”

His hands find your waist, and he gently rubs you with his thumbs. “Why don’t you take your shirt off?”

You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat, because you pout, saying, “Can’t do it for me?”

He’ll go insane tonight. Thoroughly, completely insane.

What will be left of him in the morning?

“You want to play this game?” he says, voice low.

You blink innocently. “What game?”

Jungkook gets up, carrying you with him. Your eyes widen in surprise, but you recover quickly, wrapping your legs around him. And he meant to carry you to his room, but your lips find the side of his neck, and you suck hard.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and he immediately directs himself towards the wall, pinning you against it. “You’re impatient.”

You lean your head back against the wall, looking at him through your lashes. “Maybe a little.”

It spurs him into action - Jungkook captures your mouth in a languid kiss, parting your lips with his tongue to taste you. He can taste the food and the wine on you, but also a taste that is so distinctly you that he sighs in relief.

He’s a man starved when it comes to you, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Jungkook grinds his hips, rubbing his length on you. You whimper in his mouth, your hands pulling on handfuls of his hair, and he hisses in pain, though it only turns him on more. Still, he kisses you, sucking on your lower lip and teasing it with his teeth. He doesn’t bite down too hard, doesn’t want to hurt you, but when your tongue toys with his piercings, he knows he needs to have you now. So he makes sure he’s holding you up with one hand, and then slides the other one between your bodies. 

He makes quick work of pulling your skirt up, and then his fingers deftly push your underwear aside. One digit parts your folds, tests your wetness, and his dick twitches in his pants at just how slick you already are.

“Who’s impatient now?” you purr.

He feels an inherent need to shut you up, and so he dips his finger inside of you up to the first knuckle, swallowing the needy moan you let out. And then he’s pulling his hand away, bringing it up to your face, and he pulls away from the kiss to push his finger in your mouth.

Your lips wrap around the digit, your eyes blazing bright, and you suck on it, your tongue teasing the pad. It reminds him of how your mouth felt on his dick the last time he saw you, and he grinds into you again, loving the way your eyebrows bunch together with pleasure.

He can’t wait to hear you moan his name. That, more than anything, pushes him to pull his finger out of your mouth, and to then carry you to his room. You busy yourself on the skin of his neck as he does so, and he grunts when your tongue teases the earring he’s wearing.

“No hickey,” he reminds you when you go back to sucking on his neck.

You stop, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

He’s reached the bedroom by then, and Jungkook puts you down on his bed. He takes his shirt off while you make yourself comfortable on the bed, and he throws the piece of clothing on the floor before climbing on the mattress. You immediately spread your legs for him, and he pushes your skirt up to reveal the black lacy thong you’re wearing.

It barely even hides anything, and he can already tell that you’re slowly soaking the fabric.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing his chest, lust and desire swirling in the depths of your gaze. Your eyes, glistening earlier, have turned darker, and he can’t help but admire you for it.

You’re beautiful. Beautiful in a savage, strong way that he can’t even describe. Maybe it’s your muscles, or that quiet confidence you carry yourself around with. Or maybe it’s just the way his body reacts to you - his lust for you is wild, feral, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jungkook bends down to kiss you, hand sliding to your wrist when you run your hand through his hair. He pulls your hand over your head, pressing it into the mattress right as you wrap your legs around his waist again. 

“Be nice and don’t touch me, mmh?” he tells you.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. He’s already sliding down between your legs, readying himself to finally get the taste of you that he’s been craving. And there’s something sinful about your skirt, about your black lacy thong, so he decides to keep your clothes on, hooking one finger in your thong to pull it aside.

You’re gleaming with your slick juices, your pussy flushed red with arousal. Jungkook just knows you’ll feel divine on his dick, but first he wants to lap you up.

And so he does, leaning forward to push his tongue between your folds. Your taste is heady, inebriating, and he grunts as one of your hands shoots to his head as if you’re trying to push him closer.

“Nu-uh,” he tuts, kneeling between your legs. He grabs your hands, puts them over your head, and then says, “Don’t move.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly unbuckles his belt, and then takes it off. Doesn’t break eye contact as he ties you up with it, making sure to not make it tight enough to hurt, but still tight enough to restrain your motions. 

Your breath is ragged when he sits back on his heels, tilting his head to the side as he smirks. “Now, if you move again, I’ll tie you up to the bed too, m’kay?”

You flash a lustful smile. “Maybe I’d like that.”

It turns him on far too much, his dick rock hard in his pants. He rubs himself, watches with manly contentment as you look down at him and bite at your bottom lip.

“Careful, baby,” he says. “If you’re too much of a brat, you’re not getting anything tonight.”

“As if you can resist me.”

He can’t. He knows he can’t, so he abstains from replying, instead choosing to make you regret your words. Indeed, he goes back to your pussy, pushing your underwear aside once more to blow a breath on your clit that makes you squirm slightly. He loves it, loves everything about how your body responds to his. Even more so as he dives in, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it lightly. You moan, somehow shy, and he looks up at you to see your jaw as your head is thrown back.

But you’re obeying, hands gripping at the pillow over your head, and Jungkook knows he’s got you right where he wants you to be. So he unleashes himself, feasts on you until your moans grow louder, his name intertwined with your pleasure. His dick hurts in his pants from lack of stimulation, and he starts palming himself as he eats you out, as your juices cover his chin.

Circles after circles around your clit lead to it growing sensitive, flushed with so much arousal he knows you’re teetering close to your orgasm. But he won’t give in yet, won’t let you come even though he thinks the sight will entrance him, will make him worship you like a goddess.

So instead, Jungkook pulls away, blowing another breath on your clit as you whine.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” you complain.

He smirks, waiting for you to look down at him. 

“You think I’m just going to let you come like this?”

You clench your jaw, chest going up and down rapidly as if you’ve just sprinted down the street. “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”

He bends down, bites at your clit lightly yet it makes you cry out in pleasure, and your hands shoot to his head. 

“What did I say about touching me?” he warns.

“Jungkook…”

“Hands up, baby,” he tells you, kneeling between your legs. “I think we have to tie you to the bed.”

You obey, yet Jungkook resists from restraining your movements further. Hell, he might want to edge you, but he also wants you to be a brat, to tell him how much you want it.

So he kisses you wild instead, lets you taste yourself on his lips as his hand lets go of your wrists where he’s pinned them over your head again. He trails his way down your side, lifting your shirt so that he can graze the skin of your stomach lightly, and you let out a breathy sound that he thinks might have been his name.

“What?” he asks.

“Touch me,” you say, eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

Your gaze is sex-crazed, a clear indication that he indeed denied you an orgasm, and Jungkook sits back on his heels. 

“Where?”

“Are you always like this?” you ask.

He nods. “Only with pretty girls like you.”

He doesn’t think you like the mention of other girls - he’s been with plenty of them, but evidently that’s not something you’d want to hear. So he decides to stop teasing, to finally let you ride the wave of your climax.

If only so that you stop looking disappointed. And so Jungkook brings his hand between your thighs, collecting your juices on two fingers before slipping them inside of you. 

You’re tight. Or maybe your walls just fight against him for a moment, relaxing the second he starts rubbing on your velvety spot. Your hips raise from the bed, your back arching as you moan loudly.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you cry out.

“Feels good?”

“Yes.” You wet your lips, gaze meeting his. “Eat me out at the same time?”

He tilts his head to the side, the predator and you its prey. “Why should I?”

“I’ll suck your dick after.”

His dick twitches in his pants at your crude words, but Jungkook ignores it. “What makes you think I want that?”

“The fact that -” Your words are interrupted by a loud moan, your walls momentarily clenching around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you quickly, his thumb rubbing on your clit. “That you came down my throat last time.”

He bends down to whisper against your lips. “Open your mouth, baby.”

You look like you want to fight him, but he knows you’re nearing your high. Indeed, your gaze has lost its focus, your cheeks are flushed red, and your breathing is ragged, so much so that he wonders if he should give you a break before fucking you.

When your lips part, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate before he spits in your mouth. You moan in answer, your walls fluttering on his digits.

“Fuck,” you curse. “I’m so close.”

He knows it. He knows it, because you’re growing impossibly tighter, and your eyes are screwed shut now, your eyebrows almost touching. So he gives in to your earlier desire, going back between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit.

He only has to suck on it once, teasing it with his tongue, for you to crash into your high, and you moan as you come, your walls pulsing on his fingers. You taste divine, like the ambrosia of the gods, and Jungkook laps you up, guides you through your orgasm. And it lasts a while, wave after wave after wave crashing into you until your thighs are shaking, instinctively closing around his head.

Only then does Jungkook pull away, looking down at your ruined panties as he slips his fingers out of you.

“Holy shit,” you let out, and the breathy laugh that follows makes Jungkook pause, eyes widening as he looks at you.

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Fuck. Yeah. That was…”

He toys on his piercing, everything in him waiting for the praise. But it doesn’t come, and his dick hurts in his pants, and all he wants is to bury himself deep in your hot wetness. So he moves away enough to remove his pants, and then he fists his cock, stroking himself as he waits for you to look at him. When you do so, he slowly takes off your underwear, never breaking eye contact, before kneeling between your legs again. 

“You think you can take me now?” he asks.

You look down at him, and your hands reach for him. As much as he wants you to touch him, he thinks he’s already close - if you were to suck him or jerk him off right now, he reckons he might come on the spot. So, once again, Jungkook pushes your hands over your head, but this time, he holds them in place before gently nudging your clit with the tip of his cock.

“Can you?” he asks.

“Can I?”

You sound confused, which he assumes might be because you’re fucked out from coming hard. So he kisses you once, pushing his tongue in your mouth lightly before he pulls away.

“Can I fuck you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, and he loves that the brat is back.

Even more so as he rubs his dick between your folds, collecting your juices.

“You’re dripping wet, baby,” he says. “You always get this wet?”

You meet his gaze, biting at your lower lip. “What if I do?”

He starts pushing in, and you surprisingly hold onto the defiance, your smirk never fading. His, on the other hand, melts as he feels you for the first time, and you’re even better than anything he could have imagined.

“Then,” he lets out, pushing in inch by inch. He pulls back out for a second, and then pushes in again. “I better fuck you good until all you want is my dick, mmh?”

“Please.”

It’s the begging. It unravels the last of his restraint, and Jungkook pushes all the way in, grunting as he hits your cervix. He pulls out slightly as he surveys your features, aware that he might have hurt you, but you don’t look like you care.

No, your hips lift from the bed, trying to meet his, and so he starts pushing in and out, slowly at first if only to make sure you’re adjusted to his size. And when you moan his name for what might be the hundredth time but feels like the first, Jungkook increases his pace, increases the strength of his thrust until his headboard is banging into the wall.

He takes you in, takes the sight of you as you mewl from your pleasure, your walls sucking him in so good he thinks he sees stars. You’re heaven personified, his own nirvana, at least for the time that he’s fucking you.

Everything else fades away - his life, his fame, the NDA you signed that’s still on the counter. All there is is you and him, and the way that your bodies move like one. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way while having sex. Hell, he reckons twenty years from now, he’ll still be thinking about this moment while he’s fisting his cock.

But for now, Jungkook tries to focus on the present. Tries to focus on the way you respond to his every motion, your walls clenching around him. His balls grow tight, a knot forming in his lower back as he tries not to come. It’s hard, but he manages to refrain from coming by slowing down, establishing a deeper rhythm that makes your eyes flutter open.

“I really want to touch you a bit,” you whisper.

It’s not said out of lust. There’s something else in your eyes, and Jungkook wonders if you feel like he does.

If you, too, will be thinking back on this moment twenty years down the line.

“Let me…” he trails off as he stops moving, and then he unties your wrists. 

Your arms immediately wrap around him, holding him close, and Jungkook likes it. Likes the way you lightly trace his back with your nails, and he winces as you slightly dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you again.

“No marks,” he reminds you.

You whine, yet it morphs into a moan as he starts pounding into you again. His balls are tight, heavy, and he knows he’ll have to let himself go soon, yet he wants the moment to last just a little longer. Maybe that’s why he pulls out, flipping you on your belly. Why he takes a moment to massage your ass cheeks as you glance at him over your shoulder. Your hair is a mess, but it’s beautiful, in such a simple, feminine way that it stabs Jungkook in the chest.

Or that might be the way you’re looking at him - it’s hard to tell, and Jungkook decides to chase the vulnerability away by pushing inside of you, up until he feels your ass against him. And then he’s fucking you again, relentlessly, sweat dripping from his forehead. It falls on you, but you don’t look like you mind, and though it’s burning his eyes, he doesn’t care either.

All he cares about is the way is dick grows infinitely hard, and soon his motions grow sloppy. He focuses for a time, tries to hold it in, but then you say, “You’re so good, Jungkook”, and the praise sends him over the edge.

Jungkook slams all the way in, holding your waist tightly, and he comes deep inside of you, painting your insides white as your pussy clenches around him. He sees stars - galaxies and nebulas - and his body folds on itself until he’s got his forehead pressed to the side of your face. He thinks he might have moaned your name, moaned a silent prayer to your beauty, and the orgasm washes through him, erasing everything until he’s just a blank canvas.

It takes a long time for him to come down from his high. For his breathing to return to normal, for his blood to stop singing the song of you. Meanwhile, you’re just breathing in sync with him, your hand on his cheek - when did it get there? - as your thumb strokes idle lines on the side of his face. It’s intimate, and oh too vulnerable considering that you’re a fan, so Jungkook straightens, finally pulling out.

He watches his cum dripping out of you, the sight nearly enough to make him go feral again, but he takes a deep breath, reminding himself that, as much as he wants you, you’re still just a fan.

He’s never going to date you, is he?

But he can’t deny the attraction, or the way your body answers to his perfectly. So when you get ready to leave, later, Jungkook pulls you into a short embrace, kissing you slow as your hands rest flat on his chest. And then he pulls away so that he can meet your gaze as you look up at him.

His heart feels warm - he thinks his whole chest might slowly be catching fire. So, even though you’re just a fan, even though you probably shouldn’t, he whispers, “Can I see you again next week?”

Prev

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hope you guys enjoyed this... horny chapter haha jungkook finally got what he wanted with her... but he already wants more hehe let me know what you think of this chapter!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist:

@pamzn | @chimchimmarie | @llallaaa | @backseatana | @xmspurple7x

@jadestonedaeho7

[jadetheblueartist]

(Please click for quality it looks so crusty)

🎶 Teenage mutant ninja SHARKIES 🎶

Heroes with the fish tails, sharky power!

Oh and here’s a quick little Splinter design

(Individuals pics and yapping under the cut ^^)

HEHE THE HYPERFIXATION CONTINUES this took my several hours bc i draw so slowly and dont realize it so that was great but i really like them ^^

Raph is a great white just bc I thought it fit, Mike is a leopard shark bc of spots and bc little, Leo is a pelagic thresher bc he’s a speedy boy, and Donnie is a shortfin mako bc they’re very smart!

I was trying to find an equivalent to sharks for Donnie and his soft shell but i couldn’t think of a species specific thing so I’ve decided that when they were rescued my Lou, he got burn damage to his snout where his sensing organs are and since sharks rely on that organ a lot due to they’re poor eyesight, he can struggle in seeing things. Technically they all have awful eyesight but the others can sense the electro magnetic fields and whatever so they’re good. Hence Don needs glasses and just still struggles beyond that.

Ummmmm yeah so they all have tails and dorsal fins and little fins on their tails. They each have sets of gills on their necks and rib area while also having lungs. They can breathe underwater then, they just have to keep their mouths closed. I also think their lair situation would be the same with more pools for them since they do like water but their human characteristics don’t make them dependent. Maybe just water lovers and avid moisturizers.

OKAY IF ANYONE WANTS TO SEND ME AN ASK ABOUT THIS ID BE HAPPY TO TALK BUT YOU KNOW UP TO YOU TEEHEEHEEHEE I NEED TO EAT NOW BYEEEEEEE

[toruily1]

jerking megumi off.

0.8k

MDNI

standing behind megumi, completely bare from the tips of your toes up to your flushed red neck, letting him guide your hand up and down his cock, teaching you how to please him the way he likes.

he's equally as red, his whole body burning up from embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state. if it was anyone else, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea.

but its you, and he'd do anything for you.

so when you came to him with wide eyes and a shaky voice, asking him if he’d teach you to get him off he couldn’t help but say yes, his cock stirring in his pants at the thought of your hand on him, squeezing and—

“a little tighter” he mumbles squeezing your hand. “you’re not gonna hurt me”

you stand on your tippy toes, looking over his shoulder as you tighten the grip you have on him, moving your hand up and down his length.

from this angle you can see everything. from his abs down to his V line and the thatch of black hair that leads towards his heavy cock, sitting firmly in the palm of your hand.

“w-what else?” you question, and the corners of megumi's lips tug up into a small grin at how you sound even more

you chose to ignore the amusement you hear in his tone when he replies, “use your thumb and play with the tip— it’s sensitive”

you can see his fat purplish tip and the string of his sticky white pre that drips from the tip.

at that, your thumb comes up and begins rubbing at the head, smearing the sticky pre down the length of his shaft. megumi sucks in a breath and for a second you think you’ve done something wrong— hurt him somehow and you’re about to let go, but when your eyes flick up towards his face you realize it’s anything but.

you can tell he's into it now, his eyes are hooded, lips parted slightly as moans out for you.

“yeah baby fuckkk— just like that,” he groans, letting his head fall back to lean on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets you take the reins. the hand on top of yours falls to his side, as you pick up the pace, hand squeezing him just a little tighter.

your thumb moves away from his tip, wanting to take your time, knowing that wasn’t something you could do if he came too fast and from how loud he was getting it was clear he was getting close. he lets out a shudder as the intense pleasure begins to fade slightly, breathing slowing down.

it doesn’t take you long to find a steady pace, hand jerking up and down, every so often applying pressure to his tip that leaves him groaning as bursts of pleasure shoots through him.

he’s practicing leaking pre, leaving your hand sticky with his arousal, making the glide of your hand easier.

after megumi gets his breathing back to normal he takes your hand in his once again.

“I like to have my balls played with.”

his hand guides your further down to his sac and you instantly take it into your hand, squeezing and toying with each of his heavy balls.

megumi moans, his body tensing as he attempts to hold himself back, not wanting to cum too soon. It was a futile attempt, especially with you standing so close to him, your scent radiating off of you and clouding his senses.

the feeling of your body pressed against his, your hard nipples rubbing against his back as you squeeze your legs together, desperately searching for friction to your aching clit as you watch megumi get closer and closer to the edge.

the sounds he's making going straight to your core.

megumi reaches behind him, pushing your legs apart just enough to allow his hand to slip through, calloused fingers instantly finding your sticky clit.

“mmm megu'—” you whine, legs bucking beneath you as he rubs your clit. you don’t even realize your hand has stopped moving, simply holding him in your hand.

“keep goin” he commands, bucking up into your hand and you instantly start to stroke his length once again, going back up to focus on the tip.

“m’close” he murmurs quietly, you feel his dick twitch in your hand. the hand playing with his balls squeeze just a bit tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to have him letting out a long groan, deep and broken when it’s paired with a squeeze to his tip.

“shitttt” that’s all the warning you get before megumi is going rigid against you as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, landing on the floor in front of him. your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, moving up and down slowly until his hand wraps itself around your wrist, stopping your movements.

[syluslnd]

Hello I'm sorry if you're not taking requests. But please please if you are can you make the part 2 of Sylus as an online sugar daddy meeting with his sugar baby.

But please ignore it if you don't take requests and your writing is SOOO GOODD. Have a nice day!!

Sylus meeting with his online sugar baby

(note-you sent this a while back when I first started posting so I hope you’re still around lol I’m sorry for taking so long🤍)

Tags • virgin reader,sugar daddy sylus,verbal teasing,fingering,climaxing

5k word count (I got carried away sorry)

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Sylus himself couldn't even believe he was doing this. It wasn’t just a waste of time for him; he never thought he’d be the type to seek out a woman, especially in a place like this but something about you intrigued him in a way he couldn't ignore.

As he leaned against his sleek black car outside the arcade the neon lights flickered, illuminating the faces of the young couples and friends inside. He felt out of place the leader of Onychinus waiting in a childish venue a stark contrast to his usual world of power and control.

He glanced at his watch, the minutes stretching painfully. He was serious about this arrangement, after all. He had his reasons, practical ones—companionship, a distraction from the relentless pressure of his life. But he couldn't deny the thrill of meeting you, the allure of stepping into a world so different from his own.

The sound of laughter drew his attention, and then he saw you approaching. Your smile was bright, a refreshing contrast to the shadows that usually loomed around him. You looked confident almost carefree as you made your way toward him.

“Hi! sorry if I kept you waiting,” you said your voice light and cheerful,opposite of how he’s used to people greeting him.

“It’s fine,” Sylus replied, maintaining his serious demeanor. “I’m just getting used to this.”

“This?” you asked, gesturing around the arcade. “I get it,It’s not exactly your usual scene.”

He finally met your gaze, feeling a flicker of something unexpected—curiosity, perhaps. “I’m not here for the games sweetie”.

You smiled at his straightforwardness, your cheerful demeanor undeterred by his serious tone. “I figured,but the games are kind of fun! You should try one!”

Sylus raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unwilling to show it. “I doubt I’d find much enjoyment in... this.” He gestured around, feeling a mix of irritation and fascination at how different your world was.

You chuckled softly, the sound warming the chilly air between you. “You might be surprised,It’s nice to escape sometimes.” There was a glimmer in your eyes that caught him off guard.

“Escape?” he echoed, feeling the weight of his own reality settle back over him. “I’m not sure that’s possible for me.”

Your expression shifted slightly, the playful light dimming as you regarded him more seriously. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, his voice sharper than intended. He didn’t want to scare you away, but vulnerability was foreign territory for him.

You looked at him, studying his chiseled features and the tension that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you said softly, as if sensing the walls he’d erected around himself.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” he replied, a hint of angst creeping into his tone. It was a reminder of the danger he lived in, the enemies lurking in shadows,never being able to be off guard . “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Your gaze remained steady, unwavering. “and yet here I am,Isn’t that the thrill of it? To step outside our comfort zones?”

“Thrill,” he muttered, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “More like recklessness.” But even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the instinct to protect you, to shield your brightness from his dark world.

You tilted your head, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “You’re so serious sylus,what are you afraid of?”

He hesitated, the weight of his duality pressing down. “That I’ll lose you, kitten.” The admission surprised even him. He didn’t know you well, yet there was something about you that ignited an urgency within him.

Your smile returned, softer now, disarming his cold demeanor. “I’m not going anywhere,not yet at least.”

For the first time, Sylus felt a crack in his armor. Perhaps this sugar daddy arrangement was about more than just companionship; it was a chance to explore a connection that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

As you took a step closer, he felt an instinctive need to draw you nearer, to keep you safe. “Let’s get out of here,” he said abruptly, surprising even himself with the sudden protective urge.

You blinked, a mix of confusion and excitement dancing across your face. “Where to?”

“Somewhere... away from all this.”

And with that, the tension shifted. Sylus realized he was no longer just a mafia boss seeking distraction; he was a man drawn to someone who could bring light into his otherwise shadowed existence.

As sylus drove you to the hotel, the tension in the car was palpable, a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The neon lights outside blurred by, but all he could focus on was the way you shifted in your seat, a nervous smile playing on your lips.

Once inside the hotel, he led you to a private suite, the door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality. The room was elegantly furnished, dim lighting casting a warm glow. You looked around, your earlier cheerfulness tempered by a hint of shyness.

“What happened to the lively little kitten I met at the arcade?” Sylus teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “You seemed so confident, and now...”

You bit your lip, glancing at the floor. “I don’t know! It’s just… different, you know?”

“Different,how so kitten?” He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”

“No, it’s not that” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. “It’s just... you’re a bit intimidating.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Intimidating? Sweetie, I promise I’m just a guy, a guy who’s curious about why you’re suddenly so shy.”

You took a breath, trying to regain some confidence. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be here, with you, like this.”

“Is that so?” He leaned against the edge of the bed, arms crossed, the teasing glint in his eyes intensifying. “I would’ve thought you’d be eager to explore every aspect of this arrangement.”

“Explore?” you echoed, feeling your cheeks heat.

“Yeah, you know,” he said, a playful smirk on his lips. “Try out all the fun things you can’t do over the phone .”

Your heart raced and you glanced away, flustered. “I—”

“Come on, kitten,” he coaxed, stepping closer again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you a little more innocent than you let on? Is that what this is about?”

You froze, your mind racing. “Um, well, I—”

“Are you a virgin, sweetie?” His words hung in the air, a teasing challenge that made you blush even deeper.

Your eyes widened, caught off guard. “I… maybe?” The admission slipped out before you could stop it, and you felt utterly exposed.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, that explains the shyness,but it’s cute,” he said, leaning in closer a playful glint in his eye. “I didn’t realize I was dealing with such an innocent little thing.”

You shifted your weight, heart pounding. “Stop it!” you protested, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “You’re making me feel like a kid!”

“Maybe you are,” he teased, his tone light but his gaze serious. “But don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, a mix of excitement and nervousness washing over you. “You’re such a meanie!” you said, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably.

“I’m just having a little fun, sweetie,” he replied, his voice low and inviting. “You’re adorable when you blush like that. I could get used to this.”

The playful banter hung in the air, creating an electric atmosphere. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself slowly crumbling. “Maybe I’ll show you more of my personality if you promise to be nice,” you offered, your voice teasing back.

“Oh, I’ll be nice,” he promised, stepping back slightly to give you space. “But I can’t make any guarantees about being gentle.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the thrill that raced through you at his words. “I guess I’ll have to hold you to that.”

And in that moment, amidst the teasing and the laughter, something shifted between you, a connection deepening beneath the playful facade. Sylus felt a flicker of something he hadn’t anticipated—an urge to protect not just your innocence, but also to cherish the light you brought into his dark world.

Sylus moved towards you, the teasing smile on his lips fading just enough for his expression to darken, a serious intensity taking over. He crossed the room slowly, closing the space between the two of you, and before you could react, his hands were on your waist. With a firm but gentle grip, he lifted you effortlessly and plopped you onto the bed. The air left your lungs in a quiet gasp and for a moment, you were caught off guard by how swiftly he moved.

“Sweetie,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something lower, something that made the room feel smaller. His gaze locked on yours, the playfulness still there but laced with a seriousness that hadn’t been present before. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”

You swallowed hard, the nervousness creeping back in as he loomed over you. “I… I think I do.”

He smirked, but there was something almost sad in it. “You think, huh?” His thumb brushed lightly against your waist as he knelt onto the bed, his hands still holding you in place. “Kitten, I’ve been playing this game for a long time. I know when someone’s out of their depth.”

The teasing edge in his tone made your heart race, but there was a weight behind his words that made you shift beneath him, uneasy but drawn in all the same.

“You’re a sweet little thing,” he said, his voice almost tender, though his words held a darker undertone. “Too sweet for someone like me. This isn’t like those playful messages online, sweetheart. I live in a world that’s... far from innocent.”

Your breath caught as his fingers trailed up your side, the motion almost soothing despite the tension in the air. “But you… you still want me here, don’t you?”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I want you, kitten. More than I should,but I worry about what happens if you stay in my world too long.”

You blinked, trying to steady yourself, your mind spinning. “What do you mean?”

Sylus pulled back slightly, his face hovering just inches from yours. The smirk returned, but his eyes were shadowed, conflicted. “You see, I’ve got my fun little games, but outside of this room? My life isn’t soft. It’s sharp edges and shadows..and you” he said, brushing a thumb over your cheek, “you’re too innocent,you don’t belong in that darkness.”

Your stomach tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. “I can handle it. I’m not a kid.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it this time. “You’re not a kid, but you’re pure, and I’m not.” His hand found its way to your chin, tilting your head so your eyes met his. “You think being my sugar baby is all fun and games. But in person? It’s different. You’re not just playing with me anymore, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”

Your pulse quickened as he shifted his weight, pinning you gently beneath him. “And what if I want to get burned?” you whispered, feeling bolder in the heat of the moment.

For a second, his expression softened, and his fingers threaded through your hair as he gazed down at you with a mix of affection and regret. “Careful what you wish for, sweetie,” he murmured. “I might just give it to you.”

Despite the teasing, there was an undeniable protectiveness in the way he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull you closer or keep you at arm’s length. It was as if he feared that pulling you too far into his world would extinguish the light you carried—something that had begun to matter to him in ways he wasn’t prepared to admit.

And in that moment, you realized Sylus wasn’t just worried about what he could do to you. He was worried about what his world could do to someone like you.

Sylus hovered above you, his eyes flickering between restraint and desire, that teasing smirk playing on his lips as if he was holding himself back. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, his fingers still gently grazing your cheek. Despite all his playful words and sly smirks, you could see it—he was hesitating, his dark world swirling in his mind, wondering if pulling you closer would be a mistake.

For a moment, you bit your lip, considering what to do. But something inside you shifted. If Sylus wasn’t going to make the move, you would.

With a sudden burst of boldness, you reached up and cupped the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes widened in surprise, the smirk faltering just slightly as you pulled him closer, your lips hovering inches from his.

“I’m not as fragile as you think, Sylus,” you whispered, your voice steady even though your heart pounded in your chest. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if caught completely off guard by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker, something hungry.

“Oh, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, “you think you’re being serious, don’t you?”

You kept your grip firm on the back of his neck, refusing to back down. “I am serious.”

The way his eyes softened at your determined expression made your stomach flip. He found you adorable—your attempt at taking control only seemed to amuse him more. “Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with affection and a hint of that ever-present teasing. “So tough, huh?”

Before you could say anything else, Sylus closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His hands, which had been holding you so delicately, tightened their grip, pulling you flush against him.

Your boldness evaporated as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a wave of flustered heat. The intensity of his kiss left you dizzy and though you had initiated this, you quickly realized you were in over your head. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment.

He broke the kiss just long enough to chuckle against your lips, his breath warm as he whispered, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You’re the one who made the move.”

You could barely respond, too flustered to form words. He loved it—he could see it in your wide eyes, the way your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. You’d been so bold just moments before, but now? Now, you were back to being the adorable, innocent girl that had him wrapped around her finger.

Sylus leaned in again, this time brushing his lips over your cheek, down to your jaw, his voice a low, teasing rumble. “So cute when you’re all shy like this.”

Your hands trembled slightly, but you held onto him, trying not to completely melt under his touch. “I’m not… shy” you mumbled, but the words came out weak, betraying how flustered you really were.

“Oh, sure” he teased, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “Is that why you can’t even look me in the eyes right now?”

You wanted to protest, to regain some sense of composure but before you could, his hand slid down from your waist, trailing over your hip, slow and deliberate. His touch sent a shock of heat through you, and you instinctively arched toward him, though the movement only made you feel more embarrassed.

Sylus grinned against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you responded to him. “What happened to handling everything, kitten? Still think you’re in control?”

The way he spoke, his voice thick with amusement and a teasing edge, made it clear he was fully aware of the effect he had on you. He wanted to push you, see how far he could take it.

His hand slid lower, his fingers brushing over the curve of your thigh, teasing you just enough to leave you breathless. He pulled back just slightly, his face hovering above yours, his eyes scanning your flushed expression with a mixture of fondness and wicked delight.

“You look so cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, his tone soft but with that same edge. “But you’re not ready for the things I want to do to you, are you?”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you met his gaze, determined not to back down completely. “Try me,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky.

Sylus chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, slower this time, savoring the moment. “Oh, kitten,” he whispered between kisses, “you’re going to be so much fun.”

Sylus hovered over you, his lips barely leaving yours as he deepened the kiss, drawing out every flustered breath and soft sound you made. His hand, still trailing over your thigh, paused, fingers curling just enough to make you squirm beneath him. He pulled back, only an inch, enough to look at you with that knowing smirk—the one that told you he had complete control of the situation, no matter how much you’d tried to take charge.

“You really think you’re ready for this?” he asked, voice low, dark, but still teasing. His hand slid higher, resting on the bare skin just beneath the hem of your dress, his thumb brushing in soft circles that made it impossible to focus.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest, but you managed to meet his gaze with more boldness than you felt. “Yea,I can handle it.”

For a second, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, his smirk softened into something more, something almost affectionate. “You’re adorable,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Trying so hard to be brave.”

Before you could respond, his hand gripped your thigh a little tighter, drawing a soft gasp from you. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your neck. “But you don’t have to pretend with me, kitten. I know exactly how to get under your skin.”

The teasing lilt in his voice sent a thrill through you, and though you wanted to hold onto that boldness, the way his fingers danced across your skin made it impossible to keep up the act. Your breath quickened, and you could feel the heat rising in your face as his touch became more deliberate, more confident.

“See?” he murmured, his lips brushing over your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “You’re already trembling, sweetie. I told you… you’re not ready for this.”

His words were a challenge, but they weren’t mocking. It was as if he was genuinely testing you, seeing how far you’d go before backing down. And despite the way he was unraveling you, you weren’t ready to surrender just yet.

“I can handle you,” you whispered, though the quiver in your voice betrayed your confidence.

Sylus chuckled softly, his lips moving up to your ear, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through you. “Is that right?” His hand slid even higher, fingers brushing dangerously close to places that made you gasp. “Then why do you sound so nervous, kitten?”

Your face burned, and you instinctively bit your lip to stop the soft whimper threatening to escape. But Sylus wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily. His lips were back at your neck, pressing a lingering kiss there before whispering, “I love how quiet you get when you’re flustered. It’s like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

You could feel the warmth of his smile against your skin and it made your pulse race even faster. His hand moved deliberately now, tracing the edge of your inner thigh, teasing but not giving you what you secretly craved. It was maddening how in control he was, how effortlessly he played with your reactions.

“You’re so easy to read, sweetie,” he said, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression both amused and intense. “I could keep this up all night, just watching you squirm.”

You couldn’t help it—your face flushed a deep red and you looked away, embarrassed by how easily he was getting to you. But Sylus wouldn’t let you escape that easily. He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning your face back to his.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, though no less intense. “I want to see every expression, every little blush. It’s too cute to miss.”

The tenderness in his words made your chest tighten, but there was still a darkness to them, a possessiveness that left you breathless. You were caught between the soft affection he was showing you and the overwhelming heat of his touch and you were losing, fast.

“I can’t…” you started, but the words fell apart as he leaned down, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. His hand slid higher, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear, and you gasped into his mouth, your body arching involuntarily toward him.

He broke the kiss just to smirk against your lips, clearly loving the way you were reacting. “Can’t what, sweetie?” he teased, his breath mingling with yours. “You were so sure you could handle it.”

Your mind was spinning, and though you’d started this, it was clear that Sylus had taken control completely. But despite how flustered you were, you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more, even if you could barely keep up with him.

“I can handle it,” you whispered, more determined now, though your voice shook.

Sylus smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned down again, this time his lips brushing just beneath your ear. “You’re so stubborn, kitten. I like that about you.”

Then, his hand slid down, tracing a slow, torturous path along your inner thigh. His touch was light, teasing, just enough to leave you aching for more but never giving in completely.

“But you still have so much to learn.”

Sylus’s smirk deepened as he watched your breath hitch, every little movement you made betraying just how much he was affecting you. His fingers, still tracing delicate patterns along your inner thigh, were slow, deliberate, and maddeningly teasing. Every time he got close enough to make your heart race, he’d pull back just a little, dragging out your anticipation until it felt unbearable.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped lower, sending a thrill down your spine. “You’re trembling already, kitten. You’re not used to this, are you? No one’s touched you like this before.”

You didn’t trust yourself to respond, but that only made his smile grow. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your neck, letting the heat from his lips sink into your skin. His free hand slid up to your waist, gripping just firm enough to make you arch toward him instinctively. He knew exactly how to play with your body, how to drive you wild without even giving you what you wanted.

Sylus pulled back just slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and the intensity in them made your stomach flip. He tilted his head, watching every flustered expression cross your face, drinking in the way your lips parted, the soft, breathless sounds that escaped you.

“Still think you can handle me?” he whispered, his voice rich with amusement, but his touch told a different story—it was heavier now, more intent.

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible with him this close. His fingers trailed back up your thigh, higher this time, slipping just beneath the edge of your underwear, the movement slow, teasing.

The sensation made you gasp, your body instinctively pushing closer to his. That small, desperate movement wasn’t lost on Sylus. He grinned, clearly loving how much you were craving his touch now.

“You’re not as innocent as you act, are you, kitten?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin. “Look at how you’re moving for me. You’re not shy now, are you?”

His words sent a wave of heat through you, and though you wanted to hold onto that boldness from earlier, you couldn’t deny how flustered you were under his control. Your body was betraying you, responding to every touch, every low whisper and Sylus was enjoying every second of it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, but he didn’t kiss you—not yet. He stayed there, close enough that you could feel his breath, the teasing proximity making your pulse quicken.

“You’re going to have to ask for it,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “If you want more, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell me.”

Your mind was spinning, but the heat of the moment made it impossible to think clearly. Sylus’s hand was still tormenting you, fingers barely brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs, teasing you in a way that made it hard to form words.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as his touch grew more deliberate, his fingers moving in slow, torturous circles that left you breathless.

“Come on, kitten,” he coaxed, his lips grazing your jaw, his voice dripping with amusement. “I know you want it. Just say it.”

You could barely breathe, let alone speak, but the way he was looking at you, the way his touch had you completely at his mercy, left you no choice. “Please,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

“Please what?” he asked, his tone smug, but his touch never faltered. “You have to tell me exactly what you want.”

Your heart raced as the words hovered on the tip of your tongue, but Sylus wasn’t going to give you any relief until you said it. He waited, his touch slow and deliberate, every movement sending shocks through your body.

“I want… more,” you finally breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk grew, clearly satisfied with your answer. “That’s a good girl” he murmured, and without warning, his fingers slid fully beneath the fabric, pressing against the heat of your body.

The sensation made you gasp, your back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure shot through you. Sylus’s hand moved with deliberate precision, his touch confident and unrelenting. He watched your reaction with a dark, predatory gleam in his eyes, clearly reveling in the way you responded to him.

“You’re so sensitive, kitten,” he whispered, his voice low and husky as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles. “I could make you come just like this, couldn’t I? Just by playing with you a little.”

Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath him, and you hated how much truth there was in his words. The heat was building inside you and the way Sylus’s fingers moved—slow but intentional, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—had you desperate for release.

But he wasn’t going to make it that easy for you.

Just when you were about to lose yourself completely, Sylus’s hand stilled, pulling back just enough to leave you breathless and aching. You let out a soft, frustrated whimper, but Sylus only smiled, leaning down to press a teasing kiss to your lips.

“Oh, sweetie,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with dark amusement. “I told you, I’m not going to be gentle. I want to see just how far I can push you.”

Sylus watched you squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the way you were unraveling under his touch. His lips ghosted over your neck, sending shivers through your body, while his hand lingered just out of reach, keeping you on edge. Your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, your body aching for him to push you further.

“Look at you, kitten,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with wicked intent. “So desperate already… all from a little teasing.”

You whimpered in frustration, your hips moving involuntarily toward his hand, silently begging him for more. But Sylus wasn’t going to give in that easily. He smirked against your skin, his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive spot between your legs, but not applying enough pressure to give you what you wanted.

“I could keep you like this all night,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just on the edge, begging for more. But…” His hand slid back into place, pressing more firmly now, drawing a gasp from you as he began moving again, slow and deliberate, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. “…I want to hear you scream my name.”

His fingers worked with maddening precision, moving in slow, rhythmic circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. Every touch, every stroke, was pushing you higher, closer to the point of no return. Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the heat coiled tight inside you, ready to snap.

“That's it, sweetie,” Sylus whispered, his voice dark and enticing. “I can feel it. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You could barely respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation building inside you. Your fingers gripped the sheets, your body trembling beneath him as his pace quickened, his touch becoming more relentless, more intense.

“Sylus…” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his tone both commanding and teasing. “I want to hear you say my name when you come.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and before you knew it, the wave hit you. Your body tensed, then shattered, pleasure crashing through you in overwhelming waves. You cried out his name, your voice shaky, breathless, as your body gave in to the intense release.

Sylus didn’t stop. His fingers kept moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were trembling and gasping for breath, completely undone beneath him. Only then did he slow, pulling back just enough to leave you sensitive and spent, but still aching for more.

As your body came down from the high, Sylus grinned down at you, clearly pleased with the way he had unraveled you so completely. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, and that familiar teasing smirk was back on his lips.

“You look so cute when you’re a mess like this,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Was that what you wanted, kitten? Or did I push you too far?”

You could barely speak, still trying to catch your breath, but Sylus didn’t need a response. He chuckled softly, his hand trailing lazily down your thigh as he watched your flushed, exhausted expression.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his tone both affectionate and mocking. “I’ll take it easy on you… next time.”

He pulled back slightly, his fingers still brushing over your skin in slow, teasing strokes that made you shudder even in your sensitive state. “But you’ve got a lot to learn if you think you can keep up with me.”

You looked up at him, still dazed from the intensity of your climax, and Sylus’s smirk only deepened. He leaned down, kissing the corner of your mouth before whispering against your lips, “You’re mine now, kitten. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he slid his hand away completely, leaving you breathless and aching, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent

“We’re just getting started,” he teased, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips as he watched the lingering need in your eyes. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

[innerfare]

You’re Jealous

 Summary: You get jealous of another woman in his life.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 

Zoro: He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 

Sanji: Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 

Ace: He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets you you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 

Sabo: Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  

Law: Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 

Kid: He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy

Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!

Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff

It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.

He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.

He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9

But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.

“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.

“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.

“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.

But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.

Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”

He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.

Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.

“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.

But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.

“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”

He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.

Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.

“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.

With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.

“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”

“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”

The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.

“Or she.”

Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.

You matched each other perfectly, in every way.

[papaya-twinks]

lando x reader where they go to a halloween party with matching costumes because they are going to pretend they are dating (they agreed to do this because an old schoolmate of the reader, who was in love with her, would be at the party and he used to be strange with her, kind of stalker)

The problem is that the reader can't stand Lando because she finds him very childish and immature, but he was the only one in her group of friends available to accompany her. What she doesn't know is that Lando has always been in love with her, but after he realized that she didn't like him that much, he started to irritate and provoke her as a way of not getting closer to her and ending up falling in love even more.

That night Lando can't hold back and ends up kissing the reader and fight with himself to not take things further but it ends up being too late since the reader gets turned on

spooky - l.n

Warnings: Angst, swearing, arguing, smut, 18+

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - spoky

You’d basically begged everyone in your friend group to go to the Halloween party with you, as you were dressed as Harley Quinn, and you needed a Joker. But every single time, you were met with a silly ‘no’. Except finally, you were forced to be with Lando.

And you couldn’t deny he looked downright hot with the white paint smeared on his face, the red paint done messily and his curls squeezed with green dye. Wow, he looked good. And you definitely saw how his gaze lingered on your half-exposed cleavage in the classic shirt.

“Couldn’t think of anything more unique?” he asked as he walked into the house beside you. “You agreed to it, Norris,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes as Lando swallowed down a snarky remark. “At least I’m not flashing everyone my tits,” he muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” you gasped, your eyes wide. You weren’t doing anything even remotely close to flashing your tits to anyone as Lando smirked and rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and be a good girl,” he flicked your chest gently, to the classic Harley Quinn line of ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’.

You pushed down the small moan as you carried on with the party. And you did enjoy yourself, when suddenly, Lando pulled you up the stairs, ignoring the various couples making out on the stairs, as he pushed you into a room and shut the door.

“Can you not grind on every guy you see?” he asked, sensing you were drunk as you rolled your eyes. “I’m not,” you said, “let me hwve my fun,”. Lando was growing frustrated.

“I’m not, not letting you have fun,” Lando growled, “you just don’t need to be doing that with every guy!”. You groaned, pupils dilated as he began his lecture. “I’m not doing it with every guy, I’m sorry you’re such a loser of a guy, that all you do is-,”.

You were cut off promptly by Lando’s lips crashing to yours. “All I do is what, hm?” he asked, eyes narrowed, “I can fuck the shit out of you, is what I can do,” he ran a hand through his now green curls. You didn’t even protest.

“Shit,” you cursed as Lando pressed the throbbing tip of his cock to your covered clit, rubbing slowly, leaking the pre-cum over your outfit. You didn’t care, too focused and desperate for the man on top of you as you whined, clawing to strip your clothes off.

“Someone’s a little needy,” Lando sighed, pulling you under him by your thighs, one hand holding your chest down. “F-Fuck,” you gasped, his hips immediately snapping into yours. A thin layer of sweat lined Lando’s face, the white paint of his face dripping sown but he didn’t care. You were his priority.

He could feel you were close as you clenched round him, your moans loud and unfiltered as he pivoted into you, angling so his cock slammed into your g-spot every time. And just as you were about to cum…he pulled out. “I’m not having some little bitch act like a brat and then get to cum,” he said simply, walking out.

This man was gonna make you fucking beg.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 9 - His Angel | ‘Act II’

word count - 12k

One evening, while at a friend’s party, things boiled over. Jude was already on edge, his emotions raw and barely contained. Toby had been trying to talk him down, saying it wasn’t worth getting upset over, but it only fueled Jude’s frustration. 

“She was probably just waiting till you filled her wardrobe up,” Toby said casually, taking a swig of his drink, not fully understanding the depth of Jude’s turmoil. Jude froze, the words striking a nerve he hadn’t even realized was so exposed. He narrowed his eyes, the anger building inside him. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.Toby shrugged, not sensing the shift in Jude’s mood. 

“I mean, come on, mate. You think she’s ignoring you because she’s heartbroken? Girls like that move on fast. She’s probably prepping for the next season—new baller, new clothes, new Instagram posts. You know how it is.” Toby chuckled a little like this was obvious. 

“Are you serious right now?” he growled, stepping toward Toby. “You think she was just some girl using me? Using me for fucking social media clout?” Jude snapped. His fist clenched, the frustration of everything—the uncertainty, the silence, the way you left—pushed him over the edge. Toby looked taken aback by Jude’s sudden aggression.

“Hey, relax, mate. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying...the whole thing’s been, what, a holiday fling? You’re just trying to make yourself feel better because you’re finally realizing what this was. You’ll be fine, bro. Take a breath and move on. You said yourself you’re still the same lad… before and after Y/N.” The words hit Jude like a punch to the gut. The idea that this was just a fling, something temporary, something you’d move on from, sent him into a blind rage. He shoved Toby back, his voice rising as his emotions bubbled over. 

“You don’t know anything about her or what we have!” Jude shouted, his face twisted in anger. “It’s not some fling, yeah? I fucking love her!” The room went silent. Toby stared at Jude, wide-eyed and speechless. He had never seen Jude like this—so raw, so vulnerable. It was clear this wasn’t just some casual relationship for Jude. His feelings for you ran deeper than anyone had realized, maybe even deeper than Jude himself had admitted before.

“You...you love her? Wow.” He asked, his voice soft, the shock evident in his tone. Toby blinked, trying to process what Jude had just said Jude, still seething, ran a hand over his face, realizing what he had just admitted in the heat of the moment. His chest heaved, the intensity of his emotions crashing over him like a wave. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, quieter now, almost like he couldn’t believe it himself. “I love her.” For a moment, neither of them said anything. Toby, still stunned, finally nodded, understanding dawning on him. 

“I didn’t know, mate,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize it was like that.” Jude slumped down on the couch, his anger subsiding into a heavy, aching feeling in his chest. 

“Yeah, well...I fucked it up so now the girl I love left.” His voice cracked slightly, the weight of his own words settling in. He had messed up. He had pushed you away, and now you were gone. And for the first time, he was admitting—out loud—that he was in love with you, and he might have lost you for good. Jude got up and left the room, his heart racing and his mind spinning. He found an empty bedroom down the hall, pushed open the door, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. His hands raked over his hair, pulling at the roots as if that would somehow release the pent-up frustration. Everything inside him was burning—anger, regret, sadness, but more than anything, pain. Moments later, the door creaked open. Toby hesitated for a moment before stepping in, the awkward tension filling the air. He cleared his throat. 

"Do you... do you really love her, mate?" He asked. Jude didn’t look up, his shoulders hunched as he stared at the floor. Toby, trying to lighten the mood, let out a small, nervous laugh. "I mean, I never thought we’d get past having school crushes. You know? Didn’t think you’d actually—"

"Shut up, Toby," Jude snapped, his voice thick with emotion. The lightheartedness grated against the rawness he felt. This wasn’t a joke. Not to him.

"Sorry, man. I didn’t mean—" Toby's smile faded. 

"It’s not funny." Jude’s voice cracked. His chest heaved as he tried to gather the words, his hands gripping the edge of the bed tightly. "You don’t get it. You don’t understand how much it hurts being apart from her. It’s like...it’s like breathing is harder when she’s not around. Everything is harder." His voice broke, the vulnerability he had tried to suppress for so long spilling out now that the dam had burst. Toby stood in stunned silence, his eyes widening as he watched his usually composed friend unravel. He had never seen Jude like this—so utterly broken. He wasn’t sure what to say. Jude continued, his voice softer but filled with despair. "When she’s around, everything feels lighter, man. She... she’s this perfect angel, and when she’s there, she makes everything easier. I didn’t realize how much I relied on her until she left." His fists clenched, and he let out a shaky breath. "I pushed her away. I hurt her, and now she’s gone, and I don’t know how to fix it." Toby took a cautious step closer, seeing the tears welling in Jude’s eyes. He had always known Jude to be strong, unshakable, but now? Now he was witnessing the depths of Jude’s emotions, the sheer gravity of what this relationship meant to him. Jude blinked rapidly, fighting to keep the tears from falling, but they slipped down his cheeks anyway. "You don’t know what it feels like. My heart... it’s in so much pain, and it’s my fault. I did this." His voice cracked again, the weight of his guilt crushing him. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming. Toby finally sat down next to him, completely out of his depth but trying to be there. He placed a hesitant hand on Jude’s shoulder. 

"I had no idea it was like this, man. I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t realize she meant so much to you." Toby spoke. Jude shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I knew. I knew and I ignored it... until it was too late." He let out a deep, shuddering breath. "I’m in love with her, and I pushed her away. Now, I don’t know if she’ll ever come back." Toby sat there, unsure of what to say, but knowing that this was the most serious, the most real, he had ever seen Jude. The magnitude of what had just unfolded between them was undeniable. Jude wasn’t just heartbroken—he was devastated, and it was clear that losing you was his worst fear coming true. Jude sat on the edge of the bed, his emotions swirling like a storm. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but the weight of it all was too much. His hands gripped the duvet beneath him, knuckles white with frustration and sadness. Toby wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. Jude—the cool, calm guy who always had it together—was now unraveling in front of him, and Toby had no clue how to help.

"So… love her? You sure? Maybe you’re just.. I don’t know, mate. Just take a breath here, yeah?”  Toby spoke, this time softer, without the nervous laugh from earlier. He thought maybe Jude was stressed, maybe he had drinks Toby didn’t see, he wasn’t sure. This felt foreign.  Jude didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the floor, eyes glassy with unshed tears. 

"You don’t know her, Toby." Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, but every word was loaded with meaning. 

“What do you mean? I’ve met her. She seems nice. But you know, maybe—" Toby frowned, confused by the response

"No." Jude cut him off, looking up at Toby for the first time, his eyes blazing with emotion. "You don’t know her." He wiped his face roughly, trying to rein in the tears that kept threatening to fall. "She’s...she’s not what you think. Not just some girl I picked up while on holiday, not some girl after my lifestyle. You have no idea." Toby stayed quiet, realizing Jude wasn’t just venting. He was confessing something very real. Jude shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. "She’s so much more. She’s strong, yeah, but... behind that strength, behind this thick wall she puts up, she’s soft, man. So soft. It’s like... like there’s this glass around her, and you’d never know how delicate she is unless you’re lucky enough to be let in. And I was." His voice cracked again, but he kept going. "I was the lucky one. She let me in, and I didn’t even realize how much of a privilege that was. I took it all for granted." Toby was silent, his earlier casual attitude completely gone. He could see now that this wasn’t just about a girl or a fling. This was something deep, something Jude had been hiding, maybe even from himself. Jude rubbed his temples, frustration clear in his every movement. "She’s... she’s perfect, Tobs. I mean, not in the way you’re thinking. Of course, she’s fit but she’s perfect in all the little ways that matter. The way she smiles when she thinks I’m not looking, the way she laughs at my dumb jokes, even when they’re not funny. And when she talks about something she loves, it’s like the whole world disappears. I’d be lucky to even have a chance to hear her talk about a painting for hours." Toby shifted, unsure of what to say, but Jude wasn’t done. His voice grew more intense as he continued. "You don’t know what it’s like to have someone like that. Someone who makes you feel like... like you’re not just another guy, like you’re special and not special in the way the whole world perceives you to be. Special in a way because of everything but that. And I messed it up. I pushed her away because I was scared. Scared of how much she means to me." Jude’s fists clenched, his breathing ragged as the emotion took hold again. "You don’t get it, Toby. When she’s not around, when she’s not there to lighten the load. She’s... she’s my angel, man. And I don’t know if I’ve lost her for good."Toby’s eyes narrowed at the weight of Jude’s words sinking in. Jude wasn’t just in love—he was consumed by it.

"Mate..." Toby started, trying to find the right words. "I really had no idea. You should’ve said something. I’m sorry I piled on. You’re Jude though, girl stuff always works out for you.” He gave him a sympathetic smile. Jude shook his head in disagreement. You were not another girl and he should’ve told you that because he knew it. Toby could feel his despair radiating off him. “I know I give you shit but you should’ve told me. I would’ve listened, I… I would’ve… I don’t know maybe treated her a bit differently knowing she wasn’t just passing through. I didn’t know you two were like that… honest.” Toby sighed a bit consumer by guilt that he hadn’t seen it.  

"Of course you didn’t," Jude muttered, shaking his head. "No one did. I kept it hidden because I didn’t want to seem weak. But now? Now, it’s all crashing down, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve hurt her, Toby. I’ve hurt the one person I’d do anything for." Jude’s eyes filled with tears again as he confessed, "I’ve never felt like this before. It’s not just about her being beautiful or smart or whatever. It’s about who she is when no one’s watching. How she holds everything together, how she let me in when she didn’t have to. And now… fuck." Toby couldn't wrap his head around this. A big part of it being that Jude had been playing two roles. One for everyone else and one for you. He sat next to Jude listening as his friend poured his heart out. Jude wiped at his eyes again, trying to stop the tears from falling. "I love her, Tobs," Jude said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I love her so much that it hurts. And now she’s gone. I really fucking love her." Toby squeezed Jude’s shoulder gently, realizing that this was more than just a rough patch. Jude had found something rare, something deep, and in his mind, he had lost it all.

The stillness of the gallery felt almost oppressive as you sat there, staring at a message from Aurelian. The silence that had once been comforting now seemed suffocating. The familiar hum of the city outside didn’t reach you here, not in this moment. The world outside carried on, but in this space, in this moment, everything felt frozen. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath. Your hand trembled as you clutched your phone, reading and rereading the message.

‘Hey, chérie. Haven’t seen you around lately. Thought you disappeared or finally wised up and left Jude xx’

The words played on a loop in your mind. What was meant to be a lighthearted joke carried the weight of something far heavier. The irony, the bitter truth woven into those casual words, twisted something inside you. It wasn’t the joke itself—it was the reality behind it. You had left Jude. You had wised up, hadn’t you? You’d finally done what was necessary to protect yourself, hadn’t you? But why did it feel like anything but wisdom? You leaned back in your chair, staring blankly at the paintings in front of you. The half-finished piece seemed to mock you, its vibrant colors dulling in the dim light of the gallery. Your mind wandered back to Madrid, to the moment you stormed out of Jude’s house, his voice ringing in your head, the anger, the hurt, the finality of it all. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the pain was still fresh, still raw. Your phone buzzed again, pulling you from the spiral of thoughts. Another message from Aurelian.

'Jude never said anything, so I wasn’t sure if you two were still a thing. I just wanted to let you know I’m having a party for my birthday. You should come. Jude’s invited too, but I figured you’re your own person, right? No pressure, just thought I’d throw it out there.'

You read the words once, twice, then a third time. It felt strange—foreign, almost—that Aurelian would reach out. You barely knew him beyond the surface level. He was Jude’s teammate, someone who existed in Jude’s world, not yours. Yet here he was, extending an invitation like none of that mattered. Like you mattered outside of Jude. A strange mix of emotions churned inside you—nausea, confusion, a flicker of something resembling hope, but mostly a gnawing emptiness. You weren’t sure why, but something about Aurelian’s message made your chest feel heavy. Maybe it was the idea that people already saw you and Jude as over, as if the relationship had never really meant anything. As if it was nothing but a fleeting moment in time. But it wasn’t fleeting for you. You hadn’t moved on. You couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face—those dark, cheeky, expressive eyes that told you more than his words ever could. You saw the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he said your name like it was something sacred. And now, all you had left was this void—a gaping hole where he used to be. You glanced back down at the screen, your finger hovering over the reply button. What could you even say? Did you even want to respond? Aurelian’s message, innocent as it was, brought everything crashing down on you all over again. You thought you were coping, thought you were getting through the pain, but the reality was you had simply buried it deep enough to pretend you were okay. And now, it was all bubbling back to the surface. You stood up, pacing the small gallery space, the echo of your footsteps the only sound in the room. Aurelian’s words replayed in your mind. 'Finally wised up and left Jude.' Was that how it looked to everyone else? Like you had made the smart, rational choice? Like leaving him was the right thing to do? But it didn’t feel right. It felt like a mistake—a colossal, gut-wrenching mistake. And now, here you were, standing alone in New York, trying to figure out where everything had gone so horribly wrong. You sank back into the chair, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. Your hand moved instinctively to your phone, pulling up Jude’s Instagram. He hadn’t posted much since you left. Just a few cryptic photos—training shots, some scenic views of Madrid. Nothing personal, nothing that gave you any insight into how he was feeling.  You clicked back to Aurelian’s message, staring at the text. Your finger hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say or if you should even say anything at all. But then, almost without thinking, you typed a response.

'Hey, thanks for the invite. I’ve been back in New York for a while now… just needed some space from the fun in Madrid. Have had a lot of work to do.'

You stared at the message, fingers trembling. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough. You hit send, heart racing as you watched the message deliver. It was a small step, but it felt monumental. 

'I hadn’t heard about the party from Jude…'

You carefully added, hoping the implication was clear enough for Aurelian to realize that you weren’t in touch with Jude. That you weren’t even in Spain. You made sure to emphasize you were definitely your own person now. The reminder, more to yourself than to Aurelian, stung. You had almost let Jude take that from you—your independence, your sense of self, your confidence.You didn’t know about the party from Jude. In fact, you didn’t know what Jude had been doing at all. You had been intentionally distancing yourself from him, avoiding his social media and keeping your phone at arm’s length. But it was impossible not to indulge in the pain of checking his match results. You still couldn’t help it—typing and deleting messages to congratulate him on an assist or a goal, as if some part of you was still tethered to him, as if a simple 'good game' might somehow fix what was broken. When Aurelian had messaged you about his birthday party, you felt a sudden pang of confusion mixed with something else—an ache, maybe, or a resentment toward the situation you were in. The sting of realizing that Jude hadn’t told you anything about it cut deep, but you quickly reminded yourself that you weren’t in Madrid anymore. You weren’t part of that world, part of his world. Not anymore. When Aurelian responded again, the message caught you off guard. The tone was familiar, comfortable, but there was something about it that made you pause. Flirty? Maybe. Or maybe you just wanted it to be. 

'City's not as fun without you around. You’re your own person so just wanted to extend the invite to you but it was a stretch. I’ve always known you were in a league of your own.'

It was a compliment, for sure, and your heart fluttered a little. You weren’t sure how to feel about it—how you should feel about it. There was a part of you that felt guilty, as if entertaining the idea of anyone else, even casually, was some kind of betrayal to what you had with Jude. But there was also a part of you that felt validated, like you needed to hear that someone—anyone—still saw you as more than just the girl Jude had left behind.

'If you find yourself in Madrid for my birthday, it’d be the best present if you came through.'

You stared at the message, unsure whether to laugh or feel conflicted. He was obviously joking—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But the words lingered, hanging in the air, teasing the idea that maybe you weren’t just a footnote in Jude’s life. Maybe you could still be seen, desired, wanted, even in this limbo you were living in. What really stopped you in your tracks, though, were the last few lines. Aurelian switched to French, and the words hit you in a way that English never could. 

'J’espère que tu vas bien. Tu me manques, ton accent, tes blagues, nos conversations.' [I hope you are well. I miss you, your accent, your jokes, our conversations.]

Even though French was spoken around the world, it still felt like a secret code between the two of you.You reread the message, your heart twisting in your chest. French had always been a part of you—a piece of your identity that grounded you, that reminded you of home, of your family, of everything that existed before Madrid, before Jude. And now, here was Aurelian, using it to reach out to you in a way that felt intimate, like he understood more than you thought. You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you, the familiarity of the language wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. There was something nostalgic and bittersweet about it, like you were being pulled back into a part of yourself that you had forgotten. Or maybe, a part of yourself that you had abandoned.

'Tu me manques.' [I miss you.]

You missed him, too. Not in the way you missed Jude, but you missed the life you had in Madrid—the conversations, the lightheartedness, the easy camaraderie with people like Aurelian, who didn’t make things so complicated. It felt simple, effortless. And right now, you were craving simplicity. You stared at your phone for what felt like hours, the cursor blinking in the empty text box. What could you even say? The idea of going back to Madrid seemed impossible, a fantasy. The thought of running into Jude again—of reopening those wounds—was too much to bear. And yet, the thought of staying away, of cutting yourself off completely, left you feeling hollow. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. You wanted to tell Aurelian that you missed the conversations too, that you missed speaking French, missed feeling like yourself. But the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, you typed something simple, something safe.

'Thank you for the invite. I’m not sure if I’ll make it back to Madrid anytime soon, but I appreciate it. Hope your birthday’s a good one. Joyeux anniversaire, beau garçon.' [Happy birthday, handsome boy.]

You sent the message before you could overthink it, and then you sat back, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The weight of everything—Madrid, Jude, the mess you left behind—settled back into your chest. You didn’t know what was next, didn’t know how you were supposed to move forward. But for the first time in a long time, you realized that you didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe it was okay to just exist for a little while, to find your footing again before diving back into the chaos.  As you sat there, your phone buzzed with another message from Aurelian. You didn’t open it right away. Instead, you allowed yourself to breathe, to sit in the stillness, to think about what you really wanted. Not what Jude wanted, or what Aurelian wanted, but what you wanted  Because in the end, you were your own person. And no one could take that from you.

When Whitney called to tell you she was going to see Jude this week, you felt a sharp pang in your chest. It wasn’t unexpected—after all, he was still part of her circle, somehow—but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. Your heart hurt, caught somewhere between jealousy and sadness, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words to respond.

“I just didn’t want you to be caught off guard,” she explained, her tone filled with concern. Whitney’s voice was careful, measured. You appreciated the gesture—her honesty, her care in telling you ahead of time—but that didn’t stop the dull ache from creeping up on you. You swallowed it down, trying to muster a neutral response.

“It’s fine,” you said, forcing the words out. “He’s your friend too, right?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Whitney’s voice came through, more insistent this time. 

“No, he became my friend by proxy,” she clarified quickly, almost urgently. “You’ve always been my best friend. My loyalty is with you.”  That small distinction—her reassurance—eased the tightness in your chest, if only just a little. Whitney had always been your person, the one who knew your heart inside and out, and hearing her reinforce that was a reminder that you weren’t alone, even in the aftermath of everything. You sighed, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Thank you,” you managed, but your voice wavered, the emotions rising up again. Before you could stop yourself, you stuttered, your words spilling out in a quiet, vulnerable rush. “Just… could you tell me if he’s okay? When you see him?” There was silence on the other end, but you knew Whitney. You knew she was processing the weight behind your words, the lingering feelings you had been trying so hard to suppress. You could practically feel her heart breaking for you, even across the ocean.

“I promise I will…” she said softly, her voice filled with the kind of empathy only a best friend could offer. You could hear the unspoken wish in her tone, the way she wished she could be there, in person, to wrap her arms around you and hold you through it all. “I hope he isn’t.” She sympathetically giggled. You smiled but bit your lip, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over.

 “I wish you were here,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability of the moment caught you off guard, the way everything felt raw and exposed. Since Whitney moved it had been hard. You didn’t fault her any, in fact you encouraged her move to England but you missed her.

“I wish I could hug you right now,” Whitney said, her voice cracking just enough to reveal her own emotion. “But I’m here, okay? I’m always here, even if it’s over the phone.” You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, and let the quiet between you settle like a balm on your aching heart. She offered to come be with you but you had work and she had Teddy. When you needed her you’d tell her.

When Whitney saw Jude, it was after an England international team friendly. Jude and Trent had gone out with some other friends for dinner, but eventually returned to Whitney’s house, where a group of footballers filled her living room. Despite the chaos, Jude slipped away from the group, finding Whitney alone in the kitchen. 

“Have you talked to her?” Jude hesitated for a second before he spoke.She was rinsing out a glass when he walked in, his presence behind her unmistakable.  Whitney turned off the sink, exhaling softly as she faced him. 

“Obviously, I have. You know I have,” she replied, her tone firmer than usual. There was no room for pleasantries. She had always been fiercely loyal to you, and this moment wasn’t any different.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, the weight of the words heavy. Jude stood there, not knowing what to say. His hands fidgeted at his sides, his eyes a little lost. 

“You should be,” she told him, the anger she felt for you evident in her voice. “You really fucked her over, Jude.” Whitney didn’t hold back, meeting his apology with the kind of brutal honesty only a best friend could deliver. The kitchen fell quiet, and while the silence felt tense, it was also thick with a shared understanding. Whitney had every reason to be mad. She had seen you through the worst of it, the heartbreak, the silence, the ache that wouldn’t go away. Jude felt the weight of her words sinking deeper into him. Despite her frustration, Whitney’s naturally nurturing side softened her posture after a while. She had always been a mix of fire and warmth, too kind for her own good at times. So, after the silence had stretched on, she rounded the kitchen island and sat next to him. Jude’s hands clenched into fists on his lap as he looked down, clearly torn.

“How is she?” he asked meekly, as if he was afraid of the answer. Whitney looked at him for a moment, her expression softening. She could see how broken he was, but her loyalty to you came first.  Your heart came first. 

“I’m supposed to tell you she’s fine without you…” She bit her lip and shook her head gently, her voice dropping. Jude’s face contorted in a grimace at those words, the thought of you being okay, of you not caring about him anymore, striking something deep in him. His jaw tightened as if he was fighting back something raw. “Jude… she’s hurt,” she finally admitted, her voice tender despite the situation. “You didn’t just treat her poorly. You led her on and you left her with questions she didn’t deserve.” Whitney saw the pain flash across his face and sighed. Whitney sighed, her frustration palpable as she tried to find the right words. She wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things, but she also didn’t want to completely crush Jude. Still, this wasn’t a situation where being nice felt easy or right. “She’s upset, Jude. You hurt her. You hurt someone who has never even put herself in a position to get hurt before. It was a massive deal that she was opening up to you. She was willing to hurt and you promised her you wouldn’t and yet here we are.” Whitney said, her voice carrying a heaviness that had been building since this whole mess began. Her eyes locked on him, trying to gauge how much he really understood. “Do you even know how much she liked you?” The question hung in the air, and Whitney’s stomach twisted as she waited for his response. She wasn’t just asking for you. She needed to know if Jude had even an inkling of what he’d lost, of how deep your feelings had been, and if he was capable of feeling anything in return.

“Subconsciously, I felt like I knew… but it scared me,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed. “Because I think—I know—that I might’ve had even stronger feelings for her. But I didn’t know what to do with that. It scared me, Whit. Telling her, admitting it, would’ve meant growing up… leaving behind this life I knew I was good at.” Jude ran his hands over his face, frustration and regret etched across his features.  He looked down at the floor, almost as if he couldn’t bear to face the truth of his own words. “I don’t know anything about real relationships, and I know she doesn’t deserve anything less,” he added, the words almost a whisper. Whitney sighed again, softer this time, and reached out, picking up his hand.

“Every relationship is different, Jude, so I can’t speak for yours but none of us know what we’re doing at first. We’re all going in blind.” Her fingers tightened around his, a gesture more sisterly than anything, as she looked him square in the eyes. She paused, trying to give him space to let her words sink in. “But eventually,” she continued, “things get crystal clear. You figure it out. But you’ve got to be brave enough to take that step, to risk it. You’ve hurt her so much by not even trying. You’ve been playing it safe because you think you’re good at the life you had before her, but… you’re not that guy anymore, are you?” Jude shook his head. He had told Toby he was but he knew he wasn't. He wasn’t the guy he was ahead of that Greece holiday. His expression twisted, the words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. He did feel stupid. 

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered. He felt reckless for how he handled things with you, for not being able to face his feelings, for choosing a fleeting life of surface-level connections over something real, something lasting.

“Yeah, but we like you…” Whitney took a deep breath. “Jude… She really really likes you.” Whitney paused. She wasn’t going to say something for you but she knew you loved him.

"I bet she told you to kick me out." His voice was quieter. Jude shifted uncomfortably, his hands still fidgeting as he looked at Whitney.  Whitney glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the tension in the air. 

"I offered," she said with a playful edge, trying to cut through the heavy mood, knowing he needed something lighter for a moment. Jude’s lips curved into a genuine smile, the first one he had managed in what felt like forever. "But you know her. She’s not like that... especially with you."  Whitney quickly clarified, her smile fading into something more serious. 

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know." Jude nodded, the weight of those words sinking in. Whitney hesitated for a beat.

"Y/N… she asked me to make sure you were okay." She explained. Jude’s heart clenched, his chest tightening at the thought that, after everything, you still cared enough to ask about him. The sound of your name, even in passing, nearly undid him. His throat felt thick, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak.

"She… she asked about me?" Jude’s voice broke slightly, his face a mask of conflicted emotions—relief, guilt, regret. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. He couldn’t say your name though it hurt too much and it pinged in his brain that this could’ve all been avoided if he had just grown up and said it. 

"Yeah. As much as you’ve hurt her, she still wants to know you’re alright." Whitney nodded slowly. Jude let out a long, shaky breath. He was crumbling from the inside, the realization of just how much he had messed up crashing down on him like a tidal wave. 

"What do I do, Whit?" he asked, his voice full of desperation. Whitney sighed deeply, walking around the counter and enveloping him in a hug. He felt like a lost kid in that moment, someone who had made a mess but wasn’t sure how to clean it up. She rubbed his back and let out a breath of her own before she stepped back and met his eyes.

"I want to help you, Jude. I really do," she said, her voice laced with compassion but also firm. "If I tell you what to do… well then I should be the one seeing her.” Whitney smiled. “But you’ve got to make a decision for yourself. Take action, real action, on your own." Jude swallowed hard, sensing there was more she wanted to say. And there was. "If you can’t put in the effort on your own merit…" Whitney hesitated, hating that she even had to say it, but she knew it was the truth you needed to hear. "Maybe it’s not right for her. Maybe you don’t deserve her." Jude’s face fell, his eyes shutting tightly against the sting of her words. They were brutal, but he knew deep down they were right. Every step he had taken up until now had been half-hearted, marked by insecurity and fear. But those steps had led him to lose you.

"I know," he whispered, the admission feeling like the hardest thing he’d ever said. He opened his eyes, filled with determination but clouded by regret. "I’m going to fix it. I have to fix it all." Whitney watched him, hoping against hope that this time he meant it—not in the shallow, fleeting way he’d tried to patch things up before, but genuinely. She could see the fight in him, but she had seen it before, and it had never been enough. Jude was always good at grand gestures, but this time, she needed him to be good at the small, meaningful actions too.

"You better mean it this time," Whitney said, though her voice was softer now, more gentle than before. She wanted to believe him. Jude stood up straighter, his fists unclenching as he let out a long breath. 

"I do. I swear, I’ll do it right." He pulled Whitney into a hug, one filled with unspoken gratitude. When they pulled apart, Jude asked, "But will you help? With the… you know, the finer details. The stuff that isn’t make-or-break, but would… I don’t know, make it all feel special. Like, a nice gloss over the top?" Whitney smiled softly, shaking her head at his typical Jude manner of wanting things to be perfect, even in chaos. 

"Of course, of course," she said, her voice warmer now, filled with the hope she had buried earlier. "You know I’m a sucker for a good love story." Jude chuckled lightly, though the gravity of the situation never really left. 

"Thanks, Whit. I’ll figure out the rest. I have to. For her." Whitney gave him one last encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, her voice soft. 

"Make sure it’s not just about fixing things, Jude. Make sure it’s about growing up. Loving her for real. You owe her that." Jude nodded, his eyes serious, carrying the weight of everything he had lost and everything he still had to prove. Whitney stood there, watching as he steeled himself, silently praying that this time, he’d really be the man you deserved.The air in the kitchen was still thick with uncertainty, Whitney hoped more than anything that this wasn’t just another fleeting attempt. You deserved more than that. As Jude stood there, lost in the weight of his thoughts, Trent strolled into the kitchen with his usual easygoing smile. Without missing a beat, he threw his arms around Jude in a goofy hug. 

"Wow baby, really been bulking up, huh?" Trent teased, pulling back and laughing at his own dad joke.

"You’re hilarious." Jude let out a small, tired chuckle, shaking Trent off him along with a disapproving kiss of his teeth.  Whitney, standing nearby, smiled, rolling her eyes at Trent’s antics. She could always count on him to bring lightness to the room, even when things felt heavy. Trent playfully shoved Jude in the shoulder before turning to wrap his arms around Whitney, kissing her cheek in that affectionate, natural way of his.

“You know, mate, it’ll be alright. If you work at it." As he pulled away, he turned back to Jude, his expression softening, but still carrying that calm confidence Trent always had. Jude glanced at him, taking in his words. There was something comforting in how Trent said it, like a quiet reminder that not everything was lost. But it was the way Trent looked at Whitney when he spoke that made Jude stop and really listen. Trent kissed Whitney on the cheek again, grinning as she rolled her eyes but smiled at him all the same. "Good ones," Trent added, his eyes still on Whitney, "take work." Jude's chest tightened, his eyes flickering between the two of them. There was an undeniable truth in Trent’s words, something simple but powerful. He could see it in the way Trent looked at Whitney, the ease of their relationship, built on years of effort, love, and mutual care. It wasn’t easy, but it was real. Jude swallowed hard, nodding slowly as the realization sank deeper. He had to work for it. He had to fight for it. You were worth that, more than worth it.

"Yeah," Jude murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I know." Trent clapped him on the back, a supportive gesture that said more than words could. Jude gave him a faint smile, appreciating the quiet wisdom in the moment. It wasn’t going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever was. As Trent and Whitney shared a look, both of them hoping Jude would finally figure out what he needed to do, Jude stood there, taking in the moment. He felt a spark of something he hadn’t in a while—hope. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start fixing things.

Your apartment was quiet, too quiet. It felt suffocating in the silence that followed your final goodbye to Jude. The words had spilled from your lips before you could stop them, before you could even fully comprehend them. 'I’m done,' you had said, your voice cold, detached. But when you returned home, the weight of it all came crashing down. You hadn’t meant it— maybe not entirely, a part of you knew very well that you wouldn’t ever be ‘done’ with Jude. But your heart was bleeding beneath all the bandages you were trying to wrap it in, and you didn’t know how to stop the pain. Jude had hurt you, over and over, and now it felt like the only thing you could do was push him away before he could break you further. The worst part was that when you told him you were done, you broke your own heart even more. Sitting on your bed, you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the sobs that were already clawing their way up your throat. You never cried before you had met Jude. You were always the strong one, always the one to hold it together. But Jude had shattered that, broken down every wall you’d spent years building. Since you met him, it felt like you’d done nothing but cry. Your chest heaved as the tears came anyway, silent and unstoppable. You wanted the world to swallow you up, to take the pain away because it was too much to bear. You were drowning in the ache, in the loss, in the thought that maybe, just maybe, you had lost the one person who made you feel like you were truly seen.

On the other side of the Atlantic, Jude sat in his own room, staring blankly at the floor. His phone was in his hand, the screen dark now, but your voice—your words—echoed in his head. 'I’m done.' He hadn’t believed it, not at first. But the longer he sat there, the more it sank in. You were really gone. He felt like the world had shifted beneath him, like he was untethered, drifting in a void. Everything was harder without you. Breathing, moving, thinking—everything felt like a monumental effort. You had become a part of him, and now that part was ripped away, leaving him raw and exposed. Jude ran a hand over his hair, frustration and despair mixing in a sickening cocktail of emotions. He’d tried to make you understand how much you meant to him, but he’d failed. Words weren’t nearly enough. He had pushed you away without even realizing it, and now he was paying the price. You were his everything, and he had let you slip through his fingers.

In your apartment, you curled up on the bed, pulling the covers around you as if they could shield you from the emptiness that was swallowing you whole. Your heart ached, every beat a reminder of what you had lost—or rather, what you had forced yourself to lose. Jude was still there, in the back of your mind, in every corner of your soul, but you had pushed him away. You had to. It was the only way to protect yourself. It felt like you were dying inside. You had never loved anyone the way you loved Jude. It hit you like a tidal wave, the realization slamming into you with full force. This was love. This was what all the poets and songwriters and dreamers talked about. The kind of love that took everything from you and gave you everything in return. The kind of love that tore you apart and put you back together, all at once. And you were pushing it away.

Jude stayed sat, tears burning in his eyes as he stared at the floor. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted you. But now, the distance between you felt insurmountable. The silence was deafening, the space between you growing with every minute that passed. It was as if you were moving in parallel, both of you hurting, both of you broken, but never able to meet in the middle. That was the cruelest thing about parallel lines—they never intersect. No matter how close they run, they remain apart.

You sobbed into your pillow, your chest tight with the weight of it all. You had found love—real, heart-wrenching, soul-deep love—and now, like a masochist, you were destroying it because you couldn’t bear his idiodic behavior. You were so mad that Jude had made it so hard. You had pushed him away, told him you were done, when the truth was you were anything but. You loved him more than you had ever thought possible, and it terrified you.  And now you were alone, both of you suffering, both of you desperate for the other, but too afraid, too hurt to bridge the gap. The world outside moved on, oblivious to the two souls shattered in their separate spaces, each aching, each lost. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you would ever find your way back to each other.

Jude and Aurelian were running through a drill at training, side by side, both focused on the task at hand but equally caught in conversation. 

"So, when's she coming back to Madrid?" Aurelian casually asked. Jude, distracted by the passing drill, shot him a quick glance. 

"Who?" He knew exactly who Aurelian was talking about, but his chest tightened at the thought of you.

"You know, her. I mentioned the party, but it seemed like she hadn’t heard about it." Aurelian’s voice was light, but there was something behind it, like he wasn’t just asking casually. Jude’s brow furrowed as he made another pass.

“What party?” Jude’s voice was sharp, unable to mask the frustration brewing inside him. Aurelian shrugged, chasing after the ball. 

"My birthday, bro. I invited her. She said she was working a lot lately, though, seemed busy." His words were clipped between breaths as he jogged alongside Jude, unaware of the storm building. Jude’s steps faltered for a second. He missed a beat, his mind racing. 

"How do you know that?" His voice came out more demanding than he meant. Aurelian gave him a side glance. 

"I told you. I invited her to my birthday. She's her own person, no? Inviting you wouldn't mean I invited her." He tossed the comment lightly, but Jude could feel the weight of it sinking into him. With minimal thought, Jude rocketed the ball towards the goal, but it went flying high, way over the post, disappearing into the stands. Aurelian noticed the change in Jude’s demeanor immediately—his body stiffened, and his expression darkened. Aurelian felt the shift, sensing the tension wasn’t really aimed at him but at something much bigger. The ball wasn't the only thing that had skyrocketed—Jude’s emotions had clearly spun out of control. Jude’s jealousy was practically radiating off him. "You alright?" Aurelian asked, trying to gauge how deep this ran. He could feel the heat of Jude’s anger simmering under the surface. Jude clenched his fists, trying to ground himself, but his thoughts were spinning. You were talking to everyone—Whitney, Trent, Winnie—but not him. And now, Aurelian? The fact that you were having conversations with someone he trained with daily, sharing things about your life, things that Jude felt he should know, made his blood boil.

"Yeah, I’m fine," Jude muttered, but his face was hard, his jaw tight. He wasn’t fine. Far from it. Aurelian nodded but didn’t push. He could feel the jealousy rolling off Jude in waves, and while he didn’t want to be the source of it, he understood. After all, it was clear Jude still had feelings for you. Jude’s mind raced as they continued their drills, his body on autopilot while his thoughts spun out of control. You hadn’t mentioned the party to him. You hadn’t mentioned anything. It felt like everyone in his life knew more about you than he did, and it stung.  Aurelian’s words echoed in his head: ‘She's her own person after all.’ That statement rattled him more than anything else. Jude, feeling the heat of jealousy and confusion, was quick to blurt out, "So, are you trying to pursue something with her?" His voice cracked slightly as he tried to maintain a calm exterior, but it was evident that his emotions were getting the best of him. Aurelian stopped mid-drill, looking at Jude like he’d lost his mind. 

“What? No, bro. I mean, yeah, she’s sexy.” Jude winced. “She’s really attractive but… you were with her, weren’t you? Or at least, you were.” He shrugged, baffled at the insinuation. But Jude, unable to stop himself, continued to ramble. His words came out fast, almost panicked, as if saying them out loud would somehow justify his own feelings or even ease the burning jealousy coursing through him.

"I get it, you both speak French and all, but do you even know what she’s like? She’s way too good for—" He stopped, realizing what he was about to say. Aurelian raised an eyebrow, intrigued but letting Jude continue. Jude, realizing he’d opened Pandora’s box, kept talking, listing all the reasons why you were amazing, how intelligent you were, how thoughtful and creative. He rambled about your quirks, how you liked your coffee with just the right amount of cream, how you’d stay up late sketching, your laugh, your ridiculous but charming wit. His voice cracked as he started talking about how you deserved someone who would pay attention to all of that, someone who would cherish every part of you, never take you for granted. And then it hit him—he was describing all the ways he should have taken care of you. The way he should have been with you from the start. The way you deserved to be treated. He froze, mid-sentence, the weight of it all crashing down on him. The image of you floated in his mind, standing there with that duffel bag your dad had gifted you, and how you’d once described it with such admiration. You’d talked about how it was made with so much care, each detail meticulously thought out, each stitch precise. Jude realized, in that moment, that the way he should’ve treated you was the same way you described that duffel bag. With reverence. With attention to detail. With care. And he hadn’t. Before Jude could even process the revelation, Aurelian laughed, stepping up to the ball and striking it with precision. It sailed smoothly into the goal, perfectly nestled into the net. At the same time, Jude's shot, born from frustration and confusion, clanged hard off the crossbar, echoing through the empty training ground. The sound hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving. Call it irony.

"You know, Jude," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "clearly, she is too good for you."  Aurelian turned back to Jude, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jude's eyes snapped to Aurelian’s, his chest tightening. Aurelian continued, his voice calm but pointed, "You had a wide-open goal, mate, and all you’ve done is hit the post." The metaphor hit Jude harder than the ball hitting the crossbar. He stood there, speechless, the truth of Aurelian’s words sinking in. You were too good for him. You were always too good for him, and in his insecurity, he’d let you slip through his fingers. Jude's hands clenched into fists by his sides once more, frustration burning in his chest. Aurelian was right. Jude had the perfect opportunity, the perfect person, and he fumbled it. Now, you were talking to other people—Aurelian, Whitney, Trent—and he was stuck watching from the sidelines, knowing he had no one to blame but himself. Aurelian watched Jude’s face, the conflict playing out in his features. With a more serious tone, he added, “Look, bro, it’s not about me. It never was. But if you don’t get your head on straight, someone’s going to step up and treat her right. Maybe not me, but someone will. You’ve got to figure out if you're gonna be that person—or keep missing the goal.” Jude swallowed hard, the weight of the realization crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He had to fix this. But for the first time, he wasn’t sure if it was even possible. You deserved more than he’d given, and if he didn’t act soon, you’d find someone who would.

You had ignored Jude for ages but he continually checked in with Whitney to at least make sure you had a pulse. He had thought about calling or texting a million times but he just couldn’t do it. It felt too menial.  In a haze of exhaustion and heartbreak Jude decided to send you a gift. Jude had never bought art before, but this time, he knew it had to be different. Jewelry or a purse wouldn’t cut it; they were too shallow, too ordinary. He needed something that spoke to you, something that communicated how he felt in a way words never could. That’s how he found himself diving into the unfamiliar world of art, navigating galleries, and dealers, determined to find something that would reflect the depth of his feelings for you. 

So when a large package arrived at your door, the deliveryman insisting on a signature, you were understandably confused. The box was massive, covered in bold warning labels about careful handling. Your heart raced with a mix of curiosity and confusion as you brought it inside. It was no ordinary package. As you carefully unboxed it, peeling away layer after layer, you finally revealed the painting. It was large, vibrant, alive with a serene energy that filled the room. Jules Olitski’s 'Beauty of Angels'. Your jaw dropped. For a moment, you wondered if it had been sent to the wrong address, maybe meant for your gallery. But even then, it was impossible to fathom—it was priceless.  You stood there, staring at the painting. It was contemporary, beautiful, and yet, somehow serene. The way the colors seemed to dance across the canvas, soft and yet striking—it felt like it was holding something deeper, something that called out to your soul.  And then, you noticed the card. A small, simple envelope tucked beside the frame. Your fingers trembled as you opened it reading the title of the work, Beauty of Angels. Your heart shattered. Jude. He had sent this. The title of the painting felt like a punch to the chest. You weren’t supposed to be his angel. Not after everything. Not after the hurt and betrayal that still clung to the edges of your relationship. And yet, here you were, standing before this breathtaking piece of art that he had chosen for you. You held the card in your hand, staring down at it, feeling a wave of emotions rush through you—pain, longing, confusion, and an ache that you hadn’t let yourself feel in weeks. It was a grand gesture, yes, but it was more than that. It was his way of trying to communicate, to reach you in a way that words had failed. But the irony of it all was almost too much to bear. You didn’t feel like anyone’s angel. If anything, you felt further from it than you ever had before. The cracks in your heart, the jagged edges of your hurt, made you feel anything but angelic. And yet, here was Jude, sending you something so personal, so profound. It was like he had seen something in you that you couldn’t see in yourself anymore. You stood there, your heart aching as you looked at the painting again. It was beautiful, yes. But it also felt like a reminder of everything you had lost. Of everything that had once been and everything that could never be again. The room felt heavy with the weight of it all, and you had to sit down, the card still clutched in your hand. The painting stared back at you, a testament to how Jude saw you—even now, even after everything. But was it enough? Could it ever be enough to heal the wounds, to fix what had been broken? You weren’t sure. But for the first time in a long while, you let yourself feel the sadness, the longing, and the love you still had for him. The painting was beautiful, but the emotions it stirred in you were even more powerful.  And despite everything, a part of you couldn’t help but wish you were still his angel. Even though you knew you weren’t.

You stared at the painting for what felt like an eternity pacing around it and your apartment for what felt like hours, the walls feeling like they were closing in on you. The city buzzed outside, cars honking, people shouting, but you were lost in the quiet chaos of your thoughts. Jude's name glowed on your phone screen, your thumb hovering over the call button. Every second that passed felt like another nail in the coffin of whatever this had been between you two.  Weeks had gone by since you left Madrid, and the memories still cut deep. That night. The arguments. The coldness in his eyes when he couldn't even say your name. You hadn't intended to call him today; you told yourself that the space was necessary, that you needed to move on. But the ache in your chest never went away, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. You wanted closure. No—you needed it. You needed to hear him admit that it had all been for nothing, that you hadn’t meant what you thought you did. Finally, your thumb pressed down, and the phone rang. Each ring was like a countdown to the moment you weren’t sure you could handle. The silence between you was about to be broken at last. When he finally answered, his voice came through soft, tentative. 

“Y/N,” Jude’s voice was soft, full of emotion that he had been hiding from you until now. “I’ve missed you… so much.” Just hearing his voice made your heart skip. For a brief moment, all the hurt and anger melted away, and it felt like home. Like all those nights lying beside him, talking about nothing, just listening to the sound of his breath as he slept next to you. But that feeling was fleeting, replaced quickly by the cold reality that had driven you both apart.

"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the waver in it. You had told yourself this was going to be a calm conversation, a way to smooth things over, to leave on good terms. But the minute you heard him, all the old wounds felt fresh again. “I’m sorry I left the way I did.”  Your own voice catching slightly. A part of you raged that you just apologized to him. Another part of you wondered if he had slept with someone else to relieve the blue balls you had left him with. 

“I’m sorry I gave you a reason to leave,” Jude replied, his sincerity evident. “I should’ve told you what you mean to me, but I was scared. I still am, but I can’t stand not talking to you.” You felt your heart swell with a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, hope. 

“I was scared too, Jude. I didn’t want to get hurt but you’ve hurt me anyway though.” You sighed. This conversation almost felt like it was too quick for you though. Jude was too eager to fix it all. 

“There’s been a lot of hurt lately…” Jude began and that planted a seed. “ I don’t want to hurt you,” Jude said, his voice firm despite the vulnerability behind it. “I want to make things right. I want to be the man you need, Y/N.” There was a pause, both of you taking in the weight of what had been said. This wasn’t an easy fix, but it was a start—a chance to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

“I don’t know what happens next,” you finally said, your voice steady.

“I’m not letting go of this,” Jude replied, determination in his voice. “I’m not letting go of you.” And with that, the silence between you was broken, the first steps toward something new, something real, finally being taken. As the phone call continued, the initial relief you felt from hearing Jude’s voice began to dissipate. Jude’s voice, which had always been so steady, so confident, now carried a different tone—one you weren't prepared for. “Y/N,” Jude began, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I’ve been thinking… a lot, actually. I don’t want to lose you. I want to give this a real shot. I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone.” You felt your heart shrivel up in that moment. You wanted an 'I love you.' Those words hung in the air, and instead of bringing comfort, they sent a cold rush through your veins. Suddenly, everything felt too real, too fast. Your mind snapped back to all the things you’d been trying to ignore—the doubts, the fears, the reasons you’d tried to keep Jude at arm’s length.

“No,” you blurted out, your voice sharper than you intended. “I can’t do this, Jude. Look, I appreciate the painting, it’s amazing and so thoughtful but I just can’t.” It was like the walls Jude had broken down, the ones that you were currently working on building back up were encased in steel buried deep in the ground now.

“What do you mean?” Jude asked, confusion and hurt beginning to seep into his voice. “Why not?”

“It’s just… it’s all stupid, Jude,” you said, your voice cracking with a mix of frustration and fear. “This whole thing—it’s just been stupid sex.” Jude felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. You didn’t believe that in totality but you needed to pull the plug. 

“Stupid sex? Y/N, you know it’s more than that.” Jude was so offended. He knew he was in the wrong but god did it hurt to hear you say that.  Why did you call then? When he saw your name appear on his phone he thought the chasm had begun to yield. 

“Is it?” You shot back, your emotions spiraling out of control. “Or am I just another one of your conquests? Another girl you’ll get bored of and move on from? Another girl you treat like shit. It took you no time at all really to find another one of me.” You snapped.

“That’s not true,” Jude insisted, desperation creeping into his tone. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. You’re different.” He felt sick to his stomach. 

“Different?” You echoed, your voice rising. “How am I different, Jude? You think I don’t know what you’re really like? I know about all the women before me, the playboy lifestyle. You’re just saying this now because you’re used to getting what you want, and you can’t stand the idea of someone saying no to you.” Jude was reeling, struggling to keep up with the barrage of accusations. 

“Y/N, that’s not fair. I know I’ve made mistakes, but it’s different with you. I’m not trying to play games. I want to be with you—really be with you.” He mused in panic. His voice was shaking.  But you couldn’t hear him over the roar of her own insecurities. You felt tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t let yourself be vulnerable, not now, not anymore.

“No, Jude,” you said, your voice trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. “It’s too much. I don’t want this—I don’t want you.” You cried, your heart breaking for the millionth time.  It hurt saying something you didn't entirely believe. You did want Jude.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Jude pleaded, his heart breaking alongside yours with every word you spoke. “Please, don’t push me away.” But it was too late. The walls you had built around your heart were snapping back into place, and you couldn’t let yourself break them down again.

“All I do is cry not. You shouldn’t make me cry!” you said, your voice breaking as tears began to stream down your face. “I never cry. This isn’t what I want, Jude. I’m sorry.” You apologized and you weren’t sure why. Jude was silent, the weight of your words settling like a stone on his chest. He wanted to fight for you, to convince you that you could make this work, but the pain in your voice was too much to bear.

“I don't want to make you cry. I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m really glad you called though," Jude said, his voice quieter now, as if he were afraid to say too much. He was trying to revert the conversation back on course. "I’ve been thinking about you. About… us though." The way he said "us" made your stomach churn. Us. Was there ever really an us? Or had it just been you, constantly trying to be enough, constantly trying to get him to see you? All you ever wanted was for him to acknowledge what you were to him, but he never could. And now, hearing him say those words, that he had been thinking about us, it made your anger flare.

"Jude," you began, taking a deep breath, "what are we even doing?" There was tension in your tone. There had been a momentary lull but you were about to kick off in a way Jude probably wasn’t prepared for. 

"What do you mean?" His voice tightened, like he already knew where this was headed but was hoping to stall the inevitable.

"I mean, what is this? What have we been doing all this time?" Your voice rose slightly, the frustration that had been building for weeks spilling over. "I’ve been here, waiting for you to tell me something, anything. And you’ve given me nothing. Nothing that I can hold on to... And today, I mean the painting is gorgeous. You already knew I’d like it but…." You sighed. You genuinely loved the painting but you were avoiding the word love at all costs at the moment. You felt embarrassed that you did love him at the minute but should the circumstances be different you would’ve swooned over someone buying you art like this. 

"I’ve told you, you mean something to me," he said, his voice pleading now, as if that was supposed to be enough. But that was the problem. That had always been the problem. You weren’t just something. You were so much more, and he never saw it. Or if he did, he was too afraid to admit it.

"That’s not enough," you snapped, your voice cracking. "Do you hear yourself? ‘You mean something to me’? That’s what you’ve been saying for months. Do you even know what that means? Because to me, it feels like nothing." You quipped. He was quiet on the other end, and you could feel your heart racing, your emotions boiling over. You had held back for so long, tried to be patient, tried to understand where he was coming from. But now, it was all crashing down, and you couldn’t stop yourself. "I’ve been waiting for you, Jude," you continued, your voice shaking. "I’ve been waiting for you to tell me how you really feel, to be brave for once and just say it. I’ve given up so much for you. I left New York. I stayed in Madrid. And for what? For you to keep stringing me along with vague promises that I mean something to you?"

"I never wanted to hurt you," Jude said, his voice strained, like he was trying to hold it together. "I just… I don’t know how to say it." The tears were gathering on his water line. This felt very much like the beginning of the end.  Jude really hoped that this wasn’t the way this conversation would go but a part of him also wasn’t all that surprised. He knew he had wronged you. 

"That’s the problem!" you shouted, unable to hold back the tears that were now threatening to spill over. "You never know how to say it. You never know how to tell me what I mean to you. I’ve been bending over backwards for you, trying to be patient, trying to be enough, but it’s never enough for you, is it? Never enough for you to tell me." Jude’s breath hitched on the other end, and for a moment, you thought he might say it. That he might finally say the words you’d been aching to hear for so long. 

 "I… I’m trying to show you that I care. I don’t want to lose you." But instead, he stammered. Your heart clenched painfully at his words, and the tears finally spilled over again. 

"But you already have." You bluntly told him. The silence that followed was suffocating. You could hear your own breathing, heavy and ragged, and you knew that he was on the other end, feeling just as broken as you. Jude had to mute his phone for a moment for the sob that he felt ready to escape him. He couldn’t breathe properly. But he still couldn’t say it. He couldn’t give you the one thing you needed.

"I…" he started again, but the words faltered. You felt like he was never going to say it. He never would. Why couldn't he say it? Jude was wondered the same thing. It would feel unfair to say now. You almost worried he would say it in a last ditch effort and you didn't want it that way.

"I don’t think I can do this anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible as the tears continued to fall. "I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out how you feel about me. I can’t keep holding onto something that’s never going to be what I need." Jude was silent again, and you could feel the finality of it all sinking in. This was it. Whatever had been between you, whether it was a relationship or some undefined situationship, it was over. The love you both refused to name had shattered into pieces, and there was no going back now.

“Y/N, angel. Please. Can we… Please it hurts me to think that I'll only got to know you this long. I want more. I’ll give you a lifetime of me, please.” Jude muttered terribly upset and terribly aware this was it. 

“Jude, please know that for the past few weeks I have imagined you imagining me. It's been the only thing that would soothes me. Dreaming you’d want more but… I know now that it’s just been a dream. You have been my favorite almost… really” You whimpered, tears running.  "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. "I’m so sorry, Jude." And before he could say anything, before you could hear the regret in his voice or the words he couldn’t find, you hung up. You stood there in the middle of your apartment, phone in hand, tears streaming down your face, knowing that it was done. Whatever you had with Jude, whatever it had been, was gone. You loved him. You had loved him with everything you had, and now you had to let him go.  Jude sat in his room, the emptiness around him mirrored in the ache inside his chest.  He loved you and never told you. The ache in your own chest was unbearable, but you knew it was the only way. The relationship—or whatever it was—had ended, not with a grand declaration of love, but with silence. The silence that had always been between you, unspoken and unresolved.

And now, you had to learn how to live without it. Without him. 

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 10 xx

[blkluci]

idk if your taking requests but i literally js read your mha boys seeing you fight and fell in love and i was wondering if you could do a part 3 with hawks, dabi, and iida or anyone else you’d like pls

𝒎𝒉𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒚/𝒎𝒆𝒏 and you fighting pt.3...

CHARACTERS ) keigo tamaki, toya dabi todoroki, tenya iida.

PLOT ) a headcannon of the boy/men seeing you fight.

A/N ) thankk youuu anon for the request!! glad you've been enjoying it :) sorry it took so long to fill. i'm so happy that everyone is enjoying this series. lmk if y'all want me to do a different fandom! :3 my requests are always open, so don't be shy y'all <33

[ 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎 ] hawks is a walking chick magnet—nopunintended. but he's he made that EXTREMELY clear in multiple interviews; he only wants you. so, it makes no sense when his random girl pushes up on him talkin' bout sum‰—"HE'S MINE." she followed you guys around for too long and hawks asked her to politely stop. when she insisted to not leave him alone, you intervened. didn't go to we for her according to him.

... you've been patient enough

... when she twisted her mouth to say something disrespectful you took off

... your fist connected with them nasty thin lips

... keigo's distress signals in his body weren't working properly

... he didn't know whether to pull you off her and cheer

-> "get In the paint!"

... his chants fuel the punches

... the girl tried the cover her face but your hulk hands still found it

-> "LOOK WHAT HAPPEN TO YOU NOW!"

... you was whoppin' her like you had real issue

... kei was really really amused

... but being that you guys were in public, he didn't want trouble for you

-> "okay baby, i think you got enough hits in."

... right before you let go off her bald head, you landed one for good measures on her nose

-> "DON'T LEMME SEE YOU AGAIN!"

... keigo was chuckling as he covered you guys with his wings and snuck away

... in the secluded area he admired your features

… your face was untouched but a bit of dirt on your shirt

-> "you did her real dirty babe."

-> "so?"

... he smirked

-> "she gonna have bruises for a while."

-> "her problem."

... damn

... that's kinda hot to him

... he chuckled

-> "so cruel. i love you."

… you gave a confused concerned face

… he didn’t care. judge him all you want!

… HE AINT ASHAMED

[ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ] toya hasn’t been with many women in his lifetime. but he’s been with one before you. he’s never mentioned it because he ain’t like her. so randomly, when she decided to take it upon herself and text him to leave you. mind you, he been blocked her on everything. he obviously doesn’t entertain, care nor does he want to or have to energy to deal with her. so he gave you the phone and you told her line it up.

… miss girl was BOLD

… she dropped that address with quickness

… so being an amazing and supportive boyfriend

… he took you to her

… as soon as the car pulled up you called her

-> “come outside, we not gon jump you.”

… dabi chuckled

… he sat on the car hood with his hands in his pants

… he made sure he pull out that phone too

-> “don’t beat her up too bad.”

-> “no promises!”

… shawty buss through the doors and ran up on you

… just to get kicked

… dabi almost fell out on the car

… you was putting beat to ahhhhh bruh

-> “ damn. damn. damn.”

… your hits echoed all down the dark street

-> “betcha won’t try it again!”

… dabi seen you fight before but not with typa anger and adrenaline

… your fist moving like lightning fast to her face

… you damn near pull her head off with how hard gripped her hair

-> “GET UP! GET UP!”

… next thing he know you pick her up like some WWE champion and body slam her

-> “OH!”

-> “DUMMY.”

… he didn’t know what to say but snaked his arm around your shoulder with a smirk

-> “where’d you learn that? how you know how to do that.”

-> “i’ll never tell.”

… he looks at you with a straight face

… them blue eyes damn near glowed in the dark

… like gojo

-> “you always doin’ that.”

-> “i love you too.”

… he rolled his eyes

… now he gotta go beat twice cause he knows he taught you that

[ 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 ] mr. idc-ima-tell really ain’t have no romantic past. he does however have haters. boys and girls but he’s mr. don’t-care! so guess what, he don’t care! but some people really be bold out here. just like this ragamuffin boy that try to fight him. so what’d you do? JUMP THE HELL IN! you like corbin fr. but what makes no sense is why this girl would jump in. yeah she got dealt with.

… iida really didn’t have much time to react he could only swing

… you watched with the boy put his booger hands on your pootie, you wasn’t having it

… you punch the random in the back of his fathead

… iida notice that the weigh was off him

… but then he see it’s you

-> “Y/N!”

… all of a sudden!

… some shawty doo-wop run up

… iida pulled the guy off you and punch him in the jaw

… boy got slumped

… you and the girl tho

… y’all still going!

-> “WHAT YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS!?”

-> “y/n! come on, let her go.”

-> “HELL NO! RUN UP AND STILL BEAT YOU !”

… poor girl was scattering on the floor like a roach

… you was giving her that work!

… twisted every way but sideways

… iida eventually pulled you back

-> “calm down, please. you’ve been her up.”

-> “MAKE SURE SHE DONT TRY IT AGAIN!”

… the girl was limping walking away

-> “she won’t! i’ll make a complaint to aizawa and principal nezu."

… he was livid , but he needed to make sure you were okay

… so he asked if you guys could have the day off

… ofc he was granted permission

… so yall went to eat and chat

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand. (‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41‬:‭10‬ ‭CSB‬‬)

[cherubharrington]

I only have eyes for you

18+mdni

Authors note: this is part 2 to Rafe staring at reader.

You tried to rationalize him staring at you. Especially that intensely. Maybe he was zoning out. You decided to chalk it up as that. To not think so hard on it.

Until he did it more times than one. His eyes moved any direction you did.

You felt your niece tuck at the bottom of your dress. You looked down at her as she stared up at you. She gesticulated for you to come closer, so you bend on your knees to hear what she had to say.

“Why is that guy staring at you?” She whispered into your ear. So you weren’t the only one who saw that. “He’s creepy.”

You don’t know how you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. You never would have assumed you were even on his radar. You always had your nose in a book. There wasn’t anything you thought made anyone think you were interesting. Which you took offense too because you felt like you were actually more interesting than people would think. But you knew you couldn’t control how people felt about you. So you just ignored it.

But Rafe Cameron? That was weird and didn’t make any sense to you.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s probably just zoning out.” But even your niece wasn’t convinced.

A few more instances of this occurred, and you were confused. You didn’t understand why he was staring so much. You tried to ignore it but finally, it was like he knew you were frustrated. He had finally decided to approach you.

“Hey, I’m Rafe Cameron. But you probably know that already.” He said smugly.

“Yes, Rafe. I know who you are. You’re all any girl can talks bout.” You say, annoyed. He smiles at you, his gaze drinking you in from head to toe. It’s silent as he does so, you can’t exactly hide from him. Your crop top and low rise denim shorts, didn’t really leave much to the imagination.

“So, how come I didn’t see you until midsummers?”

“We just moved here. Like two months back. Wasn’t really in the mood to go into the heat when the ac did me just fine.” He smiles at you, his hands finding yours. Rubbing his thumb on your skin.

“A pretty girl like you coop up in her room for two months. Must have been boring.” A blush appears on your face, betraying you. “You don’t have to worry about being bored anymore.”

His dick was deep inside of you, your hands on the sides of his face. You watched as he disappeared into you and out again.

“Fuck, this pussy.” He says, he’s bending your legs back for easier access. His hands on your thighs. “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.” He grunted.

“Fuck, Rafe. I-“

“Yeah, yeah. You love my dick huh? Can’t even speak.” His thrusts speeds up, more violent as he does so.

“Mhm. I love your dick.” You breathe out. He lets go of your legs, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He cups your face, bringing your face up to stare at him. “Pretty girl. So fucking pretty. Look at you, the way I’m destroying you. You’re mine. Never letting anyone take you now.”

The lewd noises of him thrusting in you fills the room. You can’t even think, but a part of you is conscious enough to think “did I just make a mistake?”

Taglist

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @queenvane64 @modesttiger

[vigilskeep]

hello! you know a lot of dragon age lore so i thought id ask you— i saw a post earlier that was discouraging to me aa trans person where the op said that veilguard having top surgery scars in the cc goes against established worldbuilding. does it make sense for top surgery to be possible in thedas? thanks

my rule of thumb is that in a world where healing spells exist, there’s absolutely no logical, believable reason for it not to be possible. you don’t have to go back and provide sources about historical surgeries—which is something i personally know nothing about—for this to be true

like, i just can’t take this line of thought seriously. ohhh we can have floating cities and magical neon lights and spirit healers who can mend injuries just by passively standing next to you, but we draw the line as soon as it’s something that would make our trans players happy! it’s so transparent. do not listen to these people or let them discourage you

if you want to get into the worldbuilding potential of it—which is just fun to do—we can probably guess that for the top surgery scars to be as neat as they seem to look in the veilguard character creator, similar to modern ones, magical healing was involved. now i do believe that the chantry might get suspicious of body-altering magic, that magical power is hoarded by the circles in the south and the wealthy in the north, and also that “out” trans people are a minority in thedas. so i’m not saying that this is something easy for your average guy to get hold of. that’s where you can feed it into backstory. are they powerful and connected enough that they could find specialists willing to go beyond the ordinary? or do they have underground connections to hidden apostate healers, whose only priority is what helps (or perhaps just how much you’re willing to pay)? do they belong to a culture that might not be restricted by the chantry’s norms about gender or magic, like the dalish or the rivaini? or do they belong to a mage-focused community or order, who among themselves do whatever they like? endless options

some might be referring to a line in dai from krem, a trans man, where you can ask him about potentially changing his body with magic and he essentially says he wouldn’t let magic that could do that anywhere near his body, though when he was younger he might have dreamed about the possibilities. firstly, krem is absolutely not the gold standard for trans representation and nobody should care about being flexible from what bioware put out a decade ago. secondly, krem is a random mercenary who knows one (1) mage, who spends the entire time insisting she’s not a mage. i very much doubt he’s the no. 1 source for what might be magically possible in this or any regard

also ultimately, and i cannot express this enough, you can do whatever you want forever. it could be absolutely fundamentally impossible in-world somehow and it would still not be that serious to be “unrealistic” in the dragon video games. don’t let anyone discourage you from making the character you want to make. it being an option makes it canonically part of thedas, end of. they put it in the game and nobody bitching about it can take it out

[fyiin7]

I just wanna be the girl you like!

⋆˚✿˖° Geto Suguru loves bullying and humiliating you, making your college life hell. But he doesn't know, that you secretly likes it.

⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Bully! Suguru x Fem! Reader

⋆˚✿˖°Tags: Smut with plot, slight angst, doggy style, spanking, masochist, rough sex, masturbation (in front of Suguru :0), spitting in mouth, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking

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You step onto the campus grounds, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the bustling courtyard. With a deep breath, you clutch your bag a little tighter, bracing yourself for what you know is coming. It’s become routine by now—college life should be a fresh start, but for you, it's an ongoing battle. And that battle has a name: Suguru Geto.

You spot him almost immediately, leaning casually against a lamppost with his friends, his dark hair falling lazily across his forehead. He’s smirking, as usual, already exuding an air of authority. His gaze sweeps across the courtyard until it lands on you. Your heart skips a beat despite yourself, and you can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline and nerves.

As Suguru pushes off the lamppost and starts walking in your direction, his friends snicker, already anticipating the show.

“There you are, loser,” he calls out, loud enough for those around you to hear. His voice is casual, as though this were just another day of teasing, another moment of him singling you out.

You swallow hard, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults as he approaches. Your cheeks burn, not from embarrassment, but from the strange thrill of seeing him up close. There’s something about the way he moves, the confidence in his step that has you unable to look away—even though you know what's coming.

Suguru stops just in front of you, towering over you with that trademark smirk. “Didn’t think you’d make it today. Thought you finally got smart and dropped out.”

His words are sharp, cutting through the air, but they don’t sting like they should. Instead, your heart pounds in your chest, betraying how much you crave his attention, even if it’s through insults.

“I—I’m here,” you manage to mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. You lower your gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are.

“Of course you are,” he scoffs, stepping even closer. You feel the tip of his shoe nudge yours, a clear power play. “How could you stay away, huh? Always following me around like a lost puppy.”

His friends laugh, and you know you should feel humiliated. But instead, all you can focus on is how close he is, how his scent—a mix of cologne and something uniquely Suguru—fills the air between you. If only he knew how much you looked forward to these moments.

Suguru’s hand reaches out, flicking the strap of your bag just enough to make you lose grip, and it tumbles to the ground. “Oops,” he says with mock innocence. “You’re so clumsy. Can’t even hold onto your stuff.”

As you bend down to pick it up, you hear him chuckle under his breath. Normally, being treated like this would have anyone seething with anger or sadness. But not you. In some twisted way, this is the only interaction you get with him, and it’s enough. Your secret crush on him is a guilty pleasure, one you know you shouldn’t have, but can’t shake off.

As you rise, your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, you wonder if he sees it—if he can sense that you’re not like the others. That you don’t mind. That, in a way, you look forward to these encounters.

But then the smirk returns, and he turns to leave. “See you around, loser,” he throws over his shoulder, his friends following behind him. You watch him go, your heart still racing.

Even though you’ve just been humiliated, part of you can’t wait for the next time.

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

You were sitting in the corner of the campus café, absentmindedly stirring your coffee as the hum of student chatter filled the air. It was supposed to be a quick break before your next class, but then you heard a familiar voice.

Suguru.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him sitting at a nearby table with his friends. You hadn’t planned on paying attention, but when you caught the topic of their conversation, your curiosity spiked.

“So, Suguru,” one of his friends said with a teasing grin, “you gotta tell us. What’s your type? You’re always brushing girls off like they don’t exist.”

You felt your ears perk up, and instinctively, you shifted in your seat, trying to make it look like you were still minding your own business. But your attention was laser-focused now, every fiber of your being tuned into what Suguru might say next.

“Yeah, come on, man,” another friend chimed in. “There’s gotta be someone who catches your eye. Or are you just too good for everyone?”

Suguru leaned back in his chair, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed unfazed by the question, his eyes lazily scanning the room as though thinking it over. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, anticipation gnawing at you. What if you fit his type? What if you didn’t?

Finally, Suguru spoke, his tone casual. “I guess I like a girl who’s not too easy to figure out.”

Your heart sped up. Not easy to figure out? What did that mean?

His friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague, man. You gotta give us more than that.”

Suguru chuckled softly. “I mean, someone who’s not all over me, you know? Confident but not in my face about it. Someone who’s got her own thing going on.”

You subtly grabbed your phone, opening a blank note and typing down his words as discreetly as possible. Confident…has her own thing going on…not too easy to figure out…

Suguru’s eyes glinted as he continued, leaning forward slightly. “She’s gotta be tough, but not loud about it. I don’t need someone who constantly tries to get my attention. I’ll notice her when she’s just doing her thing.”

Your fingers hovered over the screen, digesting his words. Tough but not loud. Someone who doesn’t need to try too hard. You wondered if you could be that kind of person. You certainly never tried to get his attention on purpose—but then again, was that what kept him bullying you?

His friend laughed, shaking his head. “So, basically a girl who can handle your attitude, huh?”

Suguru shrugged, smirking. “Something like that. And maybe someone who can surprise me.”

Surprise him? You furrowed your brow. That was a tricky one. What would surprise someone like Suguru, who always seemed so unfazed by everything?

The conversation drifted after that, but you were already lost in thought, replaying his words over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder—could you be that girl? Could you show Suguru that you had more to offer than what he saw when he teased you? Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to catch his attention without changing too much of who you were.

You glanced back at him, his confident posture and careless expression still making your heart race. One thing was certain: you were going to try.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The next morning, you woke up before the sun had even fully risen, your heart already racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Today was different. Today, you had a plan.

You tiptoed into your sister's room, gently nudging her awake. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she propped herself up. "Why are you waking me up this early?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You smiled, trying to sound casual. “I just thought… maybe you could help me with some makeup? You know, just for fun. I kinda want to look pretty today.”

Your sister raised an eyebrow, still a little groggy but clearly surprised. “Since when do you care about makeup?”

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I dunno. Just felt like changing things up.”

After some teasing and half-hearted grumbling, she eventually agreed. You sat in front of her vanity, letting her work her magic. As the brush swept across your cheeks and the eyeliner flicked along your lashes, you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the mirror. It was subtle, but enough to make you feel… different. Maybe even confident.

By the time she finished, you barely recognized yourself. You looked put-together, polished, like someone who could easily fit into Suguru’s idea of a girl who “had her own thing going on.”

Your sister stood back, admiring her work. “There. You look amazing. Who’s this for, anyway? Anyone special?”

You shook your head quickly, laughing nervously. “No, no one. I just wanted to do it for myself.”

She gave you a knowing look, but didn’t press further. “Well, whoever it’s for, they’re gonna notice you.”

That’s what you hoped for, too.

..

Arriving on campus, you felt a little more self-conscious than usual. Every time someone’s gaze lingered a little too long, you wondered if they noticed the makeup, if you looked different from your usual self. Your heart pounded as you scanned the courtyard for Suguru, anticipation swirling in your stomach.

Then, you saw him—leaning against the same lamppost as yesterday, his familiar group of friends surrounding him. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and walking in their direction, hoping that maybe today he’d see you in a new light.

But as soon as you came into view, his eyes found yours. A flicker of something—was it surprise?—crossed his face before it quickly turned back into his usual smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Suguru said, pushing off the lamppost as he strolled toward you. His friends snickered behind him, already sensing something was coming. “You trying out a new look today?”

Your throat tightened, nerves buzzing under your skin. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice. Maybe—just maybe—he’d say something nice. Maybe he’d notice the effort you’d put in, even if he didn’t say it outright.

Suguru stopped in front of you, his eyes scanning your face with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a second, hope bubbled in your chest.

Then he laughed. Loud, sharp, and cruel.

“What’s this? You think a little makeup is gonna change who you are?” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “You look pathetic.”

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, feeling your face heat up—not from the flustered crush you were used to, but from the sting of his words.

“I mean, come on,” he continued, still smirking. “Who are you trying to impress? Me? That’s just sad.”

You couldn’t move. Every word felt like it was tearing through the fragile confidence you’d built up that morning. His friends laughed along with him, their voices a distant echo as you stood frozen, your heart sinking.

Suguru tilted his head, as if waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stand there, cheeks burning, your gaze fixed on the ground. You had hoped—no, expected—something different. But now, you just felt… humiliated.

With a final scoff, Suguru turned away, his interest in you fading as quickly as it had come. “Better luck next time, loser."

As he walked off, you stayed rooted in place, trying to keep the tears from welling up. You had tried so hard to get his attention, but now, you weren’t sure it had been worth it at all.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

You barely made it to the bathroom before the tears started spilling over. The second the door closed behind you, you rushed into one of the stalls, slamming the lock shut. The cool metal felt grounding under your fingertips as you pressed your back against the door, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor.

The floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your chest ached, the humiliation twisting and knotting inside you. Hot tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring as you buried your head in your hands.

Your makeup. The hours spent preparing, the hopeful glances in the mirror that morning—it was all for nothing.

You felt the sting of your eyeliner and mascara mixing with the tears, smudging and running down your cheeks. You wiped at your face furiously, only to make it worse. Black streaks stained your fingers as your sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty bathroom.

Why had you thought this would work? Why had you convinced yourself that Suguru would see you differently, even for a second? He had laughed in your face, torn down every bit of hope you had built up.

Pathetic. The word echoed in your mind, replaying over and over.

You weren’t tough. You weren’t confident. You were just the same person he bullied every day, and no amount of makeup or effort could change that.

A sharp sob escaped your throat, and you pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound. You hated how vulnerable you felt—alone, broken down by the person you secretly admired.

You sniffled, feeling the wetness on your cheeks, smearing the once-pristine makeup your sister had applied with care. There was no use trying to fix it now. Everything was ruined.

As the tears slowed and the sobs quieted, the rawness in your chest remained. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the cold bathroom stall felt like a strange refuge, a place where you could fall apart without anyone seeing.

Maybe you should just give up liking your own bully.

..

After that day, you made a decision—you weren’t going to waste any more time on Suguru. It wasn’t easy to let go of feelings that had been festering for so long, but his cruel laughter and the sting of his words were more than enough to finally shake you awake.

Since then, you’d managed to avoid him. You memorized his usual routes around campus, always taking another hallway or exiting through a different door. Even if you caught a glimpse of him from a distance, you turned your head or ducked into the nearest building. For days, you managed to keep out of his line of sight, and for the first time, it felt like you had a sliver of control.

No more Suguru Geto. No more being his punching bag.

But on one particular afternoon, just as classes had ended and you were gathering your things, you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Startled, you barely had time to react before you were yanked backward, stumbling as someone pulled you out of the crowd. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw who it was.

Suguru.

Without a word, he dragged you down the hallway, his grip tight and unyielding, his expression unreadable. You tried to pull away, panic rising in your chest, but his hold on you only tightened.

"Suguru, what the fuck are you—" you started, but he cut you off with a harsh glare, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for explanations.

He pulled you into one of the campus’s old, rarely used classrooms. The door slammed shut behind you as he shoved you inside, trapping you in the space with him. The classroom was dusty and forgotten, with old desks piled up and dim light filtering through dirty windows. It felt claustrophobic, and your heart pounded as you turned to face him.

Suguru looked furious. His usually calm, smirking demeanor was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. His eyes bore into yours with a strange intensity, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Why the hell have you been avoiding me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things you’d expected, this confrontation was not one of them. "What—what do you mean?"

“You know exactly what I mean," he snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t play dumb."

His anger was palpable, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I—I just... I needed space. You made it pretty clear how you feel about me."

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You clenched your fists, suddenly finding the courage to say what had been boiling inside you since that day. "You called me pathetic, Suguru! You humiliated me in front of everyone, laughed in my face! What more is there to say?"

For a brief second, his expression faltered, but it quickly hardened again. "That’s no reason to just disappear."

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. “Why does it even matter to you? I thought you didn’t care.”

Suguru’s gaze darkened, his frustration evident. "It matters," he said through gritted teeth, though his voice was quieter now, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it. "And I don’t like being ignored."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru’s words sank in. The sheer audacity of his anger—his claim that you had no right to avoid him—boiled something deep within you. For days, you had dealt with the sting of humiliation, replaying his cruel laughter over and over in your head. And now, here he was, angry because you had taken control, because you had the nerve to walk away?

Suddenly, something snapped inside you. Without thinking, you swung your hand, and the sharp sound of your palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the room.

Suguru’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and for a moment, everything was still. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your hand trembling from the adrenaline. It was the first time you had ever fought back against him.

But that moment of silence didn’t last.

In an instant, Suguru’s rage flared. His eyes darkened, and before you could even blink, his hand shot out, gripping you roughly by the hair. You gasped as the sharp pain radiated through your scalp, your head forced back to meet his furious gaze.

"You really shouldn’t have done that," he growled.

Your heart hammered in your chest, but despite the fear coursing through you, a flicker of defiance still burned. You glared back at him, refusing to let him see you cower.

Suguru’s grip tightened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your face as his voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You think you’re brave now? Pathetic," he spat. "You’ve always been pathetic. And what’s worse is that you actually thought putting on some makeup and acting like someone else would change anything. Like I wouldn’t notice."

His words cut deep, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the hold he had on you. His hand tugged harder at your hair, and you winced, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

"You think I didn’t know?" he continued, his sneer twisting into something crueler. "It’s obvious you’ve had a crush on me this whole time. You practically throw yourself at me every time I walk by. It’s pathetic how you thought you could hide it."

Your stomach dropped. The blood drained from your face as the reality of his words hit you. He had known all along. Every glance, every small interaction you’d thought was hidden… he had seen it. And worse, he had mocked you for it.

"Is that why you’re always following me around, huh?" Suguru’s voice was laced with contempt. "Thinking you’d have a chance? You’re delusional."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru's grip on your hair tightened, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. The sharp sting against your scalp made your breath hitch, but it wasn’t just the pain that had you reeling—it was the look in his eyes, the way his lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now, there was something more dangerous behind it.

"You really like me, huh?" he sneered, his voice low, almost a purr. His face was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension crackling between you like electricity. "All this time… trying to get my attention."

Your heart thudded painfully, but before you could muster a response, his smirk deepened. His thumb brushed against your cheek, rough but deliberate. "If you like me that much, you need to prove it. Show me how much you really do."

Before you could even process his words, Suguru’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, almost punishing, as he claimed your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no softness, no hesitation—it was fierce, filled with the pent-up tension that had been building between you two for so long.

You froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation, but then his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your body responded instinctively, melting into the kiss despite the chaos in your mind. His touch, rough yet possessive, sent a shiver down your spine.

Suguru’s lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if he had been holding back for far too long. And even though his actions were far from gentle, there was something undeniable in the way he kissed you—as if he was proving something, too.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, and the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You wanted my attention," he said, his voice low and dripping with arrogance. "Well, now you have it."

"Get on your knees," he said, his voice firm as he pushed you down. "I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

He towers over you, slowly undoing his pants. His cock springs free, already hard and ready. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice laced with desire, "Show me what you've got." He grabbed your hair again, guiding your head towards his cock, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

You can feel your pussy clenching, body begging for his cock. Your tongue darts out, licking the tip of his cock, the taste of his pre-cum making your mouth water.

Your lips part, and you feels your body betray you as you take the head of Suguru’s cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip, savoring the taste.

Suguru let out a guttural moan as your tongue flicked against the tip of his cock, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His grip on your hair tightened, his fingers threading through your strands as he watched you take him in.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he praised, his hips bucking slightly, as if trying to push deeper into your mouth. "Keep going, let's see how far you can take me." He could feel the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

He wanted to fuck you, to claim you in every way possible. "Now, I want you to take it all, deepthroat my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice gruff and demanding. He wanted to see how much you could handle, how much you'd submit to his will. "Show me how much you want my cock inside you."

You swallow your saliva, before you slowly took him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks. He groaned, the sound deep and primal as he felt you take him deeper. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He needed more, needed to control this, needed to make you submit to him completely.

"Fuck, baby, that's not gonna cut it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening even more. He started to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with abandon, his cock sliding in and out, deeper and harder each time.

"Take it, baby," he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding. "Take my cock, all of it. Show me how much you want it." He could feel you gagging, feel your body struggling to take him in, and it only spurred him on more. He wanted to see you choke on his cock, wanted to see you completely at his mercy.

Your eyes are started to get watery, you are out of breath. "Mmf..!" your voice muffled. Your hand tap his thighs, signaling that you really need your oxygen.

The sight of you submitting to him like this only made him harder, his cock twitching in your mouth. He could see the water in your eyes, but he didn't let up.

He wanted to dominate you, to show you who was in control. He pulled your head back, slamming his cock into your mouth, face-fucking you mercilessly. "That's it, take it, you little bitch," he growled, his hips moving in a frenzied rhythm. "I want to see you gag on my cock."

He didn't care about your need for oxygen, only driven by his desires. He could feel your throat muscles clenching around his cock, the sensation making him even more aroused. "Fuck, you're loving this, aren't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair never loosening.

He continued to face-fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the sound of wet slapping filling the room. A cruel smile spread across his face as he pulled out slightly, allowing you to gasp for air. Suguru’s hand land on your left cheek, his slap a stinging pain. But for some reason, you love it.

"H-hah..t-that's enough..please.." you begged, already breathless.

Suguru released you and watched as you tried to catch your breath, the sight of you gagging and struggling turning him on even more. "Alright, baby, you've earned a break," he lied, his smirk returning.

He pulled you up, standing you in front of a table in the corner of the room. "Bend over," he commanded, his voice firm. You hesitated, but he didn't give you the chance to refuse. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and pushing you down onto the table.

"Keep your legs spread and your arms on the table," he ordered, his hand already hovering over your ass. "Now, count, starting from one."

Suguru brought his hand down hard on your ass, making you yelp in surprise. "One," you said, voice shaky. He spanked you again, this time harder, making you cry out. "T-two!"

He continued to spank you, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack each time. "Three, f-four..ah! Five.."

You could feel the sting on your ass, the heat building with each spank as you counted until.. "N-nine..ten," you said, and his hand pausing for a moment. "Now, I want you to spread your legs wider and touch yourself, baby," he commanded, his voice a cruel mix of desire and control.

"W-what?" You hesitated. but he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling it enough to make you whimper. "Do it, slut," he growled, the use of the name making you wetter.

You obeyed, spreading your legs as wide as you could, your fingers finding your wetness. "Good girl," he praised, his hand sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing it gently. "Now, play with yourself while I watch."

Leaning against the table, Suguru’s eyes locked on your fingers as they moved to rub yourself through your cotton panties. The sight of you touching yourself, the sound of your whimpers, drives him insane.

He stepped forward, his cock harder than ever, and ripped off your panties. "Enough playing, baby," he growled, his hands gripping your hips.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock pressing against you, teasing you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and I'm going to fuck you hard," he warned, his voice laced with promise and threat.

Without waiting for your response, Suguru thrust into you, his cock filling you completely. "H-hngh..!!" you let out a loud moan as he began to move inside you. He pulled your hair back, his grip tight, and started to fuck you with a rough, animalistic fervor.

Suguru slammed into you, his hips moving in a brutal rhythm, your body bouncing on the table. His other hand came around, gripping your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp for air. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good for a loser," he growled, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate while his hand moves to pinch both of your nipple, making you yelp in surprised.

"Open your mouth," he demand. Suguru, in the heat of the moment, decided to spit into your mouth. He pulled your head back, your lips meeting his in a rough, sloppy kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, mingling with his saliva.

The act only seemed to fuel his lust further. He let go of your throat, his hand sliding down to your ass, gripping it tightly. "You like that, don't you, hm?" he growled, his voice deep and possessive. "You like being treated like this?" Your pussy clenches tightly at his treatment, you feel your mind going numb, dumb, in a haze.

He started to spank you again, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack. The sound echoed through the cabin, the sting of the spank making you cry out. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"O-oh fuck..yes..I love it-!" you moaned, eyes rolling back. "P-please..I'm gonna cum-!" you moaned, almost a scream.

Suguru leaned down, his lips pressing against your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock," he commanded, his voice raw and needy as he rubs your clit with his thumb in a tight circle. He felt your body tense, your walls clenching around him, and that was all it took.

With a loud groan, he let go, his seed filling you as he continued to thrust. He held you close, his grip tight as he rode out the waves of pleasure. "Fuck, baby, take it all in," he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.

Suguru pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your juices and his cum. He let out a low whistle, looking at your fucked up state. He didn't miss a chance to took his phone out, taking a picture of you before he wore his pants back.

“Well,” he said, his tone teasing, almost indifferent. “I’d say that’s more than enough for you to remember me by. Consider it a gift for all that hopeless admiration of yours.” He chuckled softly, the sound cold and dismissive, making your chest tighten.

You sat there, still catching your breath, your body weak from everything that had just happened, but his words stung. You had just shared something so intimate, something that had felt so intense in the moment, but to him… it seemed like it was nothing. Just a way to toy with you.

Suguru turned away, adjusting his shirt like this was just another moment in his day. “Don’t go thinking this means anything more,” he added, his voice casual as he headed toward the door. “This was just… for fun. And now it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a painful lump form in your throat as you watched him. Part of you wanted to shout at him, to ask why he had done this, why he had kissed you and touched you like that if it meant nothing. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he reached for the door, pausing for just a second before looking over his shoulder, his gaze sharp.

“Take care, yeah? I’ve got better things to do.” And with that, Suguru stepped out of the classroom, leaving you alone in the dim, quiet space.

For a long moment, you didn’t move. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a confusing mess of anger, hurt, and… something else. You knew you should hate him for how he treated you, for the way he had used your feelings against you, but as you sat there, your body still tingling from his touch, a realization crept in.

Despite everything, despite his cruelty and the way he had just dismissed you—you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him all over again. The way he looked at you, the way his touch had made you feel alive, like you were the only person in the world for just that moment… it had reignited something in you.

You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart pound. How could someone who hurt you so deeply also make you feel so intensely?

Even after everything, you couldn’t deny it. You were still hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

[writeriguess]

timeskip bakugo x pregnant Reader? Thank you!

The quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the living room as you sank deeper into the couch, one hand resting on the gentle swell of your stomach. The house was calm, save for the occasional sound of Bakugo’s footsteps as he moved around the kitchen. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the soft warmth of the evening lulling you into a state of relaxation.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep on me,” Bakugo’s gruff voice pulled you from your thoughts. He walked over with a glass of water in one hand, placing it on the small table beside you.

You smiled softly, looking up at him through tired eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping,” you murmured, though the fatigue in your voice betrayed you.

“Yeah, sure,” he huffed, plopping down beside you. His large hand immediately found its way to your stomach, as it often did these days. The feeling of his calloused palm over your skin was oddly comforting, grounding you. “You’ve been pushing it too hard today. I told you to rest.”

“I was resting,” you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice. “You’re the one who keeps telling me to walk around more.”

“Not when you’re this tired,” he muttered, rubbing slow, soothing circles over your belly. His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a rare gentleness in his expression that still surprised you. “You gotta take care of yourself.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “I know, Katsuki.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, his attention focused entirely on the life growing inside of you. Despite his usual brash demeanor, Bakugo had been surprisingly attentive during your pregnancy, always making sure you were comfortable, eating enough, and resting when you needed it. It was one of the many ways he showed he cared, even if he didn’t say it out loud as often as he should.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked quietly.

“Just tired. The baby’s been moving a lot today,” you replied, placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin. “But we’re okay.”

Bakugo grunted in acknowledgment, leaning his head back against the couch. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t know what I’d do if something happened.”

You glanced at him, your heart swelling with affection at the rare vulnerability in his voice. “We’re going to be fine, Katsuki. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“Tch. You say that, but you don’t know how much this shit stresses me out,” he muttered, though his hand remained steady and calm. “What if I screw up? What if I’m not cut out for this?”

You frowned, sitting up slightly to get a better look at him. “Katsuki, you’re going to be an amazing dad. You care so much already. That’s what matters.”

He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he stared ahead. “I just… I don’t wanna mess it up. I don’t wanna fail you or the baby.”

You reached out, cupping his cheek gently, forcing him to look at you. “You won’t. You’ve never failed me, Katsuki.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, all the tension in his body seemed to melt away. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Damn, woman… You always know what to say.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That’s because I know you better than anyone.”

He opened his eyes, and for a second, you saw something unspoken pass between you—a promise, a shared understanding of the life you were building together. Bakugo had always been a force of nature, unstoppable and determined, but when it came to you and your unborn child, he was a shield, a protector in every sense of the word.

“Alright,” he muttered, standing up suddenly. “You’re done for the night. I’m making dinner, and you’re gonna sit there and relax.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at his bossy tone. “I can help, you know.”

“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder as he moved back to the kitchen. “You sit there and let me take care of it.”

You watched him work, your heart swelling with love as you listened to the sound of him moving around the kitchen. This was your life now—quiet evenings, gentle touches, and the steady promise of a future together. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 14: First Impressions

Episode 14!!! If Ep 11 really was the 70% mark (apparently the dev said that but don’t quote me on it, I saw it in a YT comment), then it only goes up to Ep 16. In the first trial, the culprit was revealed in Ep 10, then Ep 11 was their final defense as the class unraveled all the remaining mysteries, and Ep 12 was mostly post-trial. If the pattern repeats, this might be the episode we get our culprit reveal!!! And it seems likely, with the forty minute mark. So excited!!!

Also fine if it doesn’t happen if course, but we’ll see!

Spoilers for CH2 EP14. CW: Hanging, murder, Eden!Culprit and Ace!Culprit discussion, blood and wires.

Nico! Nico! Explain the blood on the wires and my life is yours!!! I’m still surprised Teruko got “hanging” out of that crime scene to be honest.

Ace is so funny. He’s technically right that people should ask the victim and not just the killer, but he has nothing to offer.

“That’s why she didn’t ask you.” J really is becoming the voice of reason huh?

“It’s hard to remember the evidence.” (Paraphrased). Eden.

[Teruko lists the evidence] And… she omitted the tape. Yeah, the trial would get pretty derailed if Rose noticed the oddity there right away.

Wow, immediately Rebuttal Showdown let’s go! Really cool Hu animation. I wonder if she’ll end up being the Ace attacker or not? She could still just be defending Nico because.

“That’s why I have to interrogate Nico.” I love the voice acting, the chillest Rebuttal Showdown ever so far xD

[Sword Reveal] Fan?… Oh, because the fan being broken implies a hanging, right? That’s where she’s going with this?

“Lost their temper at Ace” is not how I will put attempted murder, Hu, but you do you.

[Cut] Oh, the fan was used as a pulley??? Fucking how???

“The fan being broken would suggest a hanging.” (Paraphrased) Oh I was kinda right with my start of RS guess.

“Isn’t that wire Hu’s custom weapon?” Woo, Whit with the brain cell!

“Nico stole from Rose, so they stole from [Hu]” (Paraphrased) Yeah! Teruko and I think alike!

[Hu triple dots] Was the wire stolen? I’m almost second guessing it with how reluctant she is to say that.

{Hindsight between keys: Man I went back and forth a lot this episode huh}

[Veronika talks about Nico planning for the trial] Even though that kinda contradicts what Nico said earlier (I guess maybe they lied, makes sense in retrospect), yeah she’s right (assuming they aren’t wrong about Nico trying to frame Hu). Is she trying to help her newfound bestie, Hu?

“Did they even want to learn to paint?” Poor Rose T_T Also Nico please say something.

“If something was bothering you, you could have talked about it with someone you trusted!” You know, Eden tried to do that with Teruko, and Teruko shot her down. I wonder if that’ll come into play…

“I don’t trust anyone here.” :O Well that’s a reveal.

Woo new Hu sprite! She is breaking down! But bestie please I don’t think you can fix them!

“Hu, I—“ Nico looks so done lmao.

“You trust me, right?” They just say they didn’t. Man, she is not beating the savior complex allegations with this one, huh?

Bro please let Nico talk.

“Are you a billionaire? Because that’s rich!” Ace you are not as clever as you think you are. xD

“Murder is murder…” Indeed, J the voice of reason.

“Why can’t either Ace or Nico simply tell us what happened?” You know we’re fucked when Arturo’s the voice of reason. Although I imagine Ace will shout at him that he doesn’t remember because he was unconscious.

[Ace shouts at Arturo] Got the reason wrong, but the shouting was there.

“Don’t throw two birds and a stone in a glass house, asshole.” Mixing two idiots there, big guy.

“They put some sort of cloth on my mouth…” Ah, there’s the unconsciousness shouting. By the way, full confirmation turpentine is just chloroform in this universe, nice.

[Charles lays down the law on Hu] Thank you, resident brain cell holder! How did they even get out of the first trial without you?

“I was going to!” Yo new Nico sprite is crazy!!! They’re going in!

“I was going to…” Oh, they’re trying to remain calm. That’s pretty cool of them!

“If you say what you think happened, I’ll help.” (Paraphrased) Yeah I was wondering how the dev was gonna write this without it being a twenty minute Nico monologue, this tracks.

Yo “fake” Closing Argument is crazy.

THE FUCKING LIGHT!!!! HOW THE FUCK DID IT NOT OCCUR TO ANY OF THE FIFTEEN PEOPLE THAT TRIED TO SOLVE THIS!!! I guess cause nothing pointed to it but y’know.

“How would that have worked?” Broom to move the fan? I came up with that in my original theory on this thing, though I think that was for the very first method which was clinically insane.

[Broom reveal] Ah, close but not quite. That’s actually quite smart! I’m surprised no one thought of that either.

[Releasing wire] …Am I stupid or does this not work? What would the wire get caught on?

{Yeah I still don’t think I get it? Like if the wire was moving from above the fan to around the broom, there’s nothing stopping it from going from around the broom to above the fan, so Ace would just fall. Did it get caught on the tape somehow? But how would Nico be able to put it around the broom then? Also how does the fan break? The wire would exert force from above and the side, not below, which is what the image makes it look like. I don’t think I understood this I’m so sorry.}

Oh, Ace woke up before the murder attempt was over! Good job badjoe for calling that!

Also are we far enough in to confirm Nico did this by themselves? I don’t have anything against those that believed otherwise, but I personally like it better this way. I imagine the theories aren’t 100% dead, as always, but y’know.

“And then I… Y’know…” THAT’S WHY THE BLOOD ON THE WIRES DOESN’T MAKE FUCKING SENSE!!! Man, as much as I love the EP 6 CG, it was not clear at all that they were that close, especially when the loose wire seemed closer to the entrance. {Looking back, yeah, I’m just not good at perspective on these rooms. The wires were closer to Ace than it looked}.

… Well there’s the small bit on the end of the loose wire that I’m still not sure how it got there, but close enough!

{Yeah it’s not. Believe it or not, I don’t even think the canon method fully explains the fucking blood.

How the fuck was Nico using this exactly? I imagine the small bit of blood on the end is from the noose (which funnily enough, I kinda called there would be a noose, just got where Ace’s neck would be wrong), so then the middle is the part they used as a garrote. But… then where did the blood on the wire on the fan come from? Where they using both simultaneously?

Am I losing my fucking mind? How is it possible I still don’t understand the evidence even after All That? Has my brain simply rotted? And don’t even get me started on everything that wasn’t brought up! What the hell even is this case?

Then again, it’s midnight when I’m writing these hindsight observations, so I don’t think I’m operating at full brain capacity}

“What an interesting murder plan.” Veronika I love you.

“I tried to kill Ace and pin the murder on Hu. What else should I say?” I love you too Nico.

“And after all’s said and done, you can’t even say something as simple as “sorry”?” … Is Nico about to secret quote us?

“I tried to kill you because I don’t like you. Even now, there’s still no use to try and pretend that I like you. If I say “sorry,” you’re still going to hate me. So what else should I say?” Okay crisis averted. Still, this is a really interesting perspective, and I love it a lot. It calls back to Nico not understanding niceties like “please pass the salt,” which, relatable. If they’re not sorry, and Ace won’t get anything out of it, why lie? Very fun.

“D-Do you even regret what you did?” Poor Rose she’s taking this so badly T_T She still doesn’t have an answer as if Nico ever wanted to paint or not.

“I’m not Levi; of course I feel bad about something like that! I’m not heartless!” Yikes on calling Levi heartless, but interesting line for character analysis I guess.

“That was the worst choice that I’ve made in my life.” Wow, really cool new sprite and a lot of Nico info, this is awesome for us Nico enjoyers! (I call myself a Nico enjoyer like I don’t love every single character in the cast lol).

“My teachers, my classmates, my father…” Holy shit this is depressing.

“I’m not the victim here.” Damn, Nico. Just loving all this.

“So I don’t see the point in acting sorry.” Holy shit the sprites and the writing are on point today! {I’m sorry if my commentary’s not exactly thrilling, sometimes I’m just too invested to do anything but stare in awe.}

Rose: “I don’t know how to feel anymore” Sibling can you please give her a fucking answer damn.

“What does this have to do with the case? Everything.” Are we… doing “the pulley was used because they weren’t strong enough to murder otherwise” or…? I don’t know where else this would go.

“Coincidence? Hardly.” Does… Does Teruko already have Eden clocked (heh) as the murderer? No, right? It’s the strength thing probs.

“…They specifically intended for this murder case to be similar to Nico’s murder.” Wait does she actually think it’s Ace or Eden what?

[Non-stop, Bound Wrists] … I have nothing. Nico didn’t bind Ace’s wrists. What is happening.

[Bullet fired] Okay, slight nitpick that I’m pretty sure bothers me and no one else. I get that it’s hard to come up with phrases to shoot bullets at, but “there’s no evidence of that” or some variation is the thing that gets shot in, like, 90% of these Non-Stops Debates. Again, not really important, just wanted to point out a pet peeve of mine.

“One of the pieces of evidence was taken directly from the crime scene…” Oh now we’re bringing up the tape! Teruko didn’t identify it in the spinny thing so I was wondering if she was going to make the connection on her own, but I guess I should have never doubted the Queen.

“I finally figured out what this tape is…” Okay that makes sense. But has she actually clocked (heh x2) that Eden or Ace must have taken it? She’s acting real chill about it.

“It’s the tape from the gym.” (Paraphrased) Woo! It feels super satisfying to finally read those words in a trial setting. Another exceedingly common badjoe W, as they’re who pointed out the tape’s disappearance to me.

“That time Rose and I went to the gym together…” Oh so she knows knows.

“But didn’t MonoTV clean up the gym?” Yeah that would be convenient for you huh. There’s still a chance Ace is the culprit and she’s trying to defend him, but it’s looking rough.

{Actually in retrospect yeah what the fuck?}

“…I attempted to restore the gym to its original condition.” Which would include the tape being there. It might be over chat.

“… why didn’t you recognize it earlier, Rose?” She didn’t look at the crime scene queen. But it was in the trash. Geez Rose is just gonna feel awful after this trial, I’m really interested to see where her character will go.

“Wooow!” Fucking David jumpscare-

Yo why’s David of all people being a hater you wanted them to lose the trial.

[David blames Arturo for Arei’s death] Considering Felicity, low blow. I hate David so much (/affectionate).

“I can’t even recall what day that happened.” Oh so she’s breaking down breaking down.

[Rose speech] The Rose angst is insane this episode, I’m loving every second. In addition, there might be a line here that could point to Rose!MM. But to keep the habit, I’m not elaborating on that (on this post).

“Rose. You are helpful.” Let me ignore the Terurose agenda for a moment and point out that Teruko’s still being way too chill about this if she’s about to call out Eden. Is she putting on a front? She mentioned hurting when Eden talked to her in the kitchen, so she probably does care, but isn’t letting herself show it? Oof if true.

“That I could be dismissive […] without consequences.” Oh we might be starting the “Teruko learns to trust a bit again” arc sooner than I expected. Cool! Also she’s not about to secret quote us right? {She wasn’t}.

“Thank you, Rose.” Okay I am no longer ignoring the Terurose agenda this ship is about to pop off I feel and I love that.

“…that tells me exactly who the murderer could be.” It might be Edenover.

Select Two People! But she said after Ace ran out, right? Is she gonna point at Ace and Eden, or herself and Eden?

Nope, Ace and Eden. Well, those are the two I landed on!

“It’s you two, right?” [Voice Line] You make it sound like Ace!Accomplice or Eden!Accomplice are even like remotely possible, and I find that funny.

“What’s your reasoning?” Veronika I love you but she’s spent the last ten minutes explaining her reasoning.

By the way, while Teruko’s repeating more or less the same lockdown logic I must have explained in at least three or four different posts (honestly kinda surreal ngl), it’s gonna be really funny if the only reason the class can confidently rule out Teruko as a suspect is because her handwriting sucks too much which is honestly the best argument for her innocence besides protag privilege :v

“I’m the least suspicious because I’ve been helping” is the second best argument lol.

“But to be frank, most of you are incapable of [acting logically]” Tell ‘em Teruko!

I’ll refrain from pointing bv out every suspicious Eden line because I always feel like I’m leaning too much on confirmation bias for it, but let’s be clear, I’m seeing them.

Hu: “Eden isn’t the killer! Don’t accuse her!” Bro.

“I do have evidence!” BDA?

Called it! If we’re bringing it up this early, though… I’m assuming it’s not so simple.

“You all are moving way too fucking fast.” I feel the same way Ace. {For the first time in the trial}.

“Hold on.” Wait is David gonna be the one to bring in the possible workaround(s)? Why the- I thought you wanted to lose? What the fuck is he even doing anymore???

“Oh my my my. That’s an issue.” You saw the body didn’t you.

“Because I’m actually the first person to see the body.” Well, there goes the “See No Evil” idea, which I kinda liked. Unless he’s just lying, which would honestly make more sense; he’d be trying to lead the trial astray again.

Okay but this is adorable.

“… at least one innocent person.” David, it’s- it’s at least two. How are this bad at math.

Nico: “Do you expect everyone to believe such an obvious lie?” This really is the Nico episode, huh? But it does make sense for them to push Ace as the culprit, I guess.

“He’s lying? Really?” Poor Levi’s got no fucking clue what’s going on.

“… he just conveniently avoided [the BDA group]” oh right they searched the whole floor before going to the playground David’s story is practically impossible.

Alright who’s gonna make the “What’s your source?” “I made it the fuck up!” meme with J/Nico and David?

“The only person who I need to believe me is Teruko.”

…

?????????????????????????????

(I feel like I write that exact sequence of characters every episode)

Are you just trying to go for a Teruvid angle to counteract the Terurose earlier? (/silly but really what the fuck-)

[David explains about Teruko’s skepticism] Yeah I guess. But, just so we’re clear: David still thinks the culprit is Ace and is just doing this to make them lose the trial right? Because otherwise what the actual fuck.

“AllI want is for Teruko to distrust others.” Motherfucker what-

[David’s whole Thing] You know, I really thought, I really fucking thought after Ep13, that we would get a break of a few episodes of David Bullshit, but no! What in the ever loving fuck is he even doing anymore???? No theories at this point, it is almost 11 PM where I am I do not have the brainpower to deal with this son of a bitch.

Levi: “Now that I think about it, Eden is in a good position to be Arei’s killer after all.” I feel a scrum debate forming.

“…why would I help it piece [the note] back together…?” I was right to avoid the bias. This line could be perfectly innocent, but the moment I read it, my mind said “she’s saying this too confidently, she had it planned, it’s Edenover.”

“Why… Levi, why?” While I do think Levi!Accomplice just 100% died of it wasn’t dead already, this line does read very funny with the context of that theory.

[Eden Breakdown] Man, {even after how much I’ve been sussing Eden in this and every other episode}, it sure does look like Ace is the culprit huh? Like, this scene is so beautiful and incredible it might just sway me to Ace!Culprit. The CGs are amazing, the music and the voice acting is terribly moving, the dialogue’s fantastic, holy fucking shit. I almost want to cry that was so fantastic. I— I wish I had more words, but that just left me speechless.

-

General Thoughts:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!

(/positive)

I don’t think I could have asked for more, this is just fucking perfect. Nico’s whole thing was great, the Rose angst was unexpected but wholly welcome, the tape reveal was revealed, David… Chiem, and the Eden CG stuff. Just absolutely fantastic all around.

…Slightly miffed the blood on the wires is still somehow not 100% consistent with the described method but WHATEVER it WORKS i do NOT wanna look at those fucking things again.

Theory Updates

Yeah it’s Ace.

Okay that’s dramatic lol. Eden!Culprit is not 100% dead, but off the top of my head, I can’t actually think of anything the characters can use to clear Ace rn. The only reason I believed Eden!Culprit over Ace!Culprit is that I didn’t think Teruko and even Eden could have missed Ace grabbing the tape upon waking up, especially with the sprite disappearing when Eden was on the ground, but… uh… apparently Teruko doesn’t trust herself so much.

With that glaring issue fixed, I actually think Ace!Culprit is significantly more solid than Eden!Culprit. No workaround needed for the BDA, no weird “are they even strong enough to do this” questions, and while the fish paradox Exists, Ace might have thought that putting fish there would make people think of Nico. Which, given the killer also somehow expected the class to figure out the similarities to Nico’s method when only a grand total of four people saw it, one of them being Nico themselves; yeah, I’d think he might be stupid enough for that.

EDIT: Also forgot to mention, Ace waking up before the murder attempt was over solves the issue of him figuring it all out. He actually straight up saw the method, he’d know how to replicate it.

And those Teruko-Eden CGs, man… I always had to really suspend my disbelief on some of Eden’s lines, even with venus’ narrative defense, but… come on. I’ve said this before; I have my limits.

All that added to the fact that Teruko seems to really want to start her “begin to trust again” arc, the fact David pushed for Eden!Culprit… it’s looking Ace!Culprit.

To be clear, there’s still things like Eden’s “Teruko, wait—!” that work better under Eden!Culprit, but I feel those are comparable to other potentially small foreshadowing moments such as Ace being weirdly fixated on the carousel. Eden!Culprit is, again, not fully dead, as other than strength, BDA and fish (all of which have workarounds), there’s not much concrete evidence clearing her. But at this point, I… don’t know. I’ve always felt kinda bad reading scenes like the kitchen talk with Teruko with as much suspicion as I did, but these final CGs, hmm…

Maybe my perspective will change with a clearer mind in the morning, but these are “first impressions” for a reason. They’re not meant to be very cohesive.

And if I’m wrong and it is Eden, well then I’ll have been wrong for a week or two instead of a year, so. Who cares at this point.

Speaking of getting things wrong, the Nico thing. I got Nico!SoloAceAttacker (is that the right notation?) right, and the really obvious stuff like using the stool to reach the fan. I’m also gonna give myself half points for guessing the broom was used to move the wire on the fan all the way back in my first post, but other than that, I did not cook. In my defense, a lot of the evidence (Nico’s missing cloak, the missing tape on the pull-up bar unless it’s somehow the roll, the isolated weights and toppled weight rack, and who knows what else) ended up not mattering in the slightest, which threw me off. Also, I call bullshit on this explaining the blood on the wires, that splatter pattern still doesn’t make sense with what was described. I guess my life isn’t Nico’s after all.

On the other hand, I’m a bit more confident on the remaining aspects of the Arei murder theory now that I believe the culprit is strong enough to pull it all off without issue, but we’ll have to see on that. My guess for culprit ended up changing for now, but the reasoning for arriving at them (tape) was solid, so we’ll see how that pans out.

All in all, immaculate episode. Chef’s kiss. Perfection. Holy shit. See you again soon!

[lelengerine]

pairing. eunseok x reader

synopsis. who would have known a late-night stroll would lead to a quiet revelation?

genre. confession au, they joke about getting caught by cops, fluffy fluff, lmk if i missed anything as usual!

wc. 1k words

notes. i realize i have a streak of making confession/childhood bff drabbles lately... and i will not be stopping anytime soon 😁😁 likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

it’s one of those nights—the kind where the world feels like it’s holding its breath, with the city asleep and the stars awake, twinkling as if they know a secret. eunseok’s familiar voice crackles through your phone despite it all, breaking the stillness in your room. “hey, i’m outside. you awake?”

there’s a beat of silence once you pick up the phone, caught off guard by his voice even though you're already used to hearing it. the corners of your lips tug into a smile, already reaching for your hoodie to slip into. “why? need help running from the cops again?”

a soft, amused snort comes from the other end. you can almost picture his grin, lopsided and playful. “yeah, definitely. bring snacks, we might be in for a long chase.” the jokes come as naturally as breathing when you’re with him, the teasing made easy—just like it’s always been between the two of you.

it doesn’t take long before you slip out the door, the crispness of the night settling around you like a familiar blanket. you find him leaning casually against the streetlamp positioned at the curve of your block, his posture relaxed but alert.

eunseok’s eyes light up the moment they catch yours, and you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “look at you,” he says, voice teasing but soft, “one day you’re gonna wake up and realize i’m just using you for free, late-night entertainment.”

you roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “wow, i’m so honored. couldn’t find anyone else, huh?”

his laughter fills the solemnly lit up street, the sound of it curling around you and offering a sense of warmth. for a moment, you wonder how many nights you’ve spent like this in each other’s presence—no words needed to fill the spaces between you. he brushes his hand against yours, a fleeting touch, but one that sends a strange tingle up your arm, yet just as quick, he tucks his hands into his pockets.

“no one else gets my jokes like you do,” he says, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful.

you don’t answer, but the quiet that follows feels comfortable, as if slipping into an old, well-worn sweater. you fall into step beside him, footsteps barely making a sound on the pavement and for a while, you simply walk, listening to the faint rustle of leaves in the trees, the distant hum of cars, the steady rhythm of your breaths blending together.

eunseok tilts his head back to look at the clear sky, his face bathed in the pale glow of the moon. “look at the stars tonight. it reminds me of when we were kids, lying in the grass, pretending we knew the constellations.”

you hum, the memory flooding back—nights spent in his backyard, your fingers tracing shapes in the sky as he spun wild stories about the stars. “except you were just making them up,” you retort with a smirk. “i’m still not convinced starfish the destroyer is real.”

a laugh bubbles up from his throat—a light, melodic sound that never fails to make your heart feel full. “it’s gonna be in textbooks one day, mark my words.”

the air between you feels alive with shared memories, a thousand unspoken moments that have built up over the years. it’s the kind of connection that doesn’t need constant words—it just is. but then, as the conversation fades back into a comfortable silence, eunseok stops in his steps.

you turn to look at him, nose crinkling from confusion, but you notice a gentleness in his expression that wasn’t there earlier. he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping for a moment before he speaks. “you ever think about how none of this feels right without you? the stars, the late nights—anything, really.”

his words hang in the air, soft but heavy, like the weight of something that’s been building for a long time. you blink a couple of times, taken aback by the sudden question. the eunseok you know is playful, never one to be serious for long. but this? this feels different, like he’s pulling back a curtain you hadn’t even realized was there despite how long you’ve been friends.

“what’s gotten into you? feeling sentimental?” you ask as your head slightly tilts, trying to keep the mood light, but there’s a nervous flutter in your chest.

he scratches the back of his neck, his usual confidence faltering just a bit. you can see the slight pink creeping up his cheeks, even in the dim light. “maybe. or maybe i’ve just been thinking too much.”

“about what?”

he doesn’t answer right away—instead, he looks up at the sky, his eyes reflecting the starlight like he’s searching for something in them. when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, almost like he’s afraid of breaking the moment. “about how everything feels… better when i’m with you.”

it’s a simple statement, but it hits you hard—like a quiet confession slipped into the night, one that’s been waiting for the right moment to be said. there’s a weight to it, something unspoken that lingers between you, and for the first time, you see him—really see him. the way his guard is down, the way he’s looking at you like you mean more to him than you’ve ever realized.

you could brush it off, make a joke like you always do, but something in the way he’s looking at you tells you this time is different. this time, it matters.

your smile softens, and you take a step closer to him, arm brushing his. “then let’s keep walking. we’ve got a lot of stars to see.”

eunseok glances at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. he reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a tender certainty. gently, he guides your joined hands into the warm pocket of his jacket, tucking you close against his side. “yeah,” he responds softly, “lots of stars.”

[drewsarms]

introducing ━━⊱⋆⊰━━ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི dolly!reader ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Rafe’s sweetest girl/glam doll!

Pretends be naive. Lacks common sense but is super super book smart. Loves helping anyone or anything that needs it. Loves, loves, loves, loves animals! “Daddy can we have a pet deer?! or a snake or a lamb or cow or bunny or lion or or or-”

Always dressed to the nines!!! (Rafe is the biggest hater she knows and always tells her to go upstairs and find something else because it’s “too short”). Makeup is always on point and beat for the gods. Always has her hair done. Always smells sooo good. Like cotton candy and flowers.

She’s always around Rafe. Always up under him. If you see Rafe you see her (unless he has “business” to attend to). Rafe does literally everything for her. He feeds her. Takes her to the bathroom. Ties her shoes. Puts her heels on for her and carries them when her feet hurt. “I told you not to wear those doll.” Pays for anything and everything she lays her eyes on. & he puts it down so so sooo good

The most spoiled brat you’ve ever encountered. The world revolves around her. “Look. The world isn’t going to stop spinning just because I told you no, alright?” “So….you don’t love me?” Bratty. But she’s the biggest sweetheart. Always, always, always gets what she wants!

The absolute BIGGEST crybaby. If something doesn’t go her way you best believe she’s throwing a fit (slamming doors, ripping clothes, kicking walls, calling Rafe all kinds of names, etc.). Needs rafe for everything. Literally everything. “Daddy! daddy! daaaaaadddyyyyy!!!”

Gets on Rafe’s last nerves. “I’m sick of these little um figures and shit all around my house.” (calico critters. but he doesn’t bother to learn the name because he hates them). “I give you an allowance every week and this is what you spend it on??? Let me guess, all your money is gone, huh?” ——— she will talk his ear off until he either tells her to shut the fuck up (which leads to arguing & the best sex) or he tapes her mouth shut.

Very disobedient towards Rafe and all the stupid rules he makes up for her (not because she doesn’t love him but because she loves when he puts her in her place. she can be a good girl but it’s no fun when Rafe isn’t grabbing her by the neck and slapping her across the face) but is quick to sputter out apologies when rafe is digging her out or giving her a good spanking (she’s not sorry and she’ll do it again just to make Rafe angry!)

Did I mention she’s always horny??!