#I NEED TO JUMP OFF A VERY HIGH PLACE

[ratatatastic]

Ekky Cup Day | 8.17.24 (x)

[rubys-domain]

... I said I wanted this blog to be positive. but how's that gonna happen when I'm depressed as hell

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.

summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy

word count: 5153

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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.

You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 

Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 

It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 

Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 

The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.

Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 

Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.

Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 

“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”

“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”

“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”

The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 

When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 

But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 

However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 

It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 

“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”

His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 

“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 

“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 

“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 

That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 

“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 

“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”

As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 

When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 

“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.

Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 

“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 

Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 

“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 

“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”

“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 

“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”

“Not particularly...”

As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 

“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 

Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 

“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”

“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”

“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 

“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 

Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”

“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”

Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 

Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 

He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 

“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”

As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”

But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.

“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.

It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 

A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  

Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?

It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 

“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 

He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 

“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 

Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 

“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.

When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 

One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 

Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 

You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 

“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 

A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 

“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”

“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 

“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”

Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 

“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 

“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 

“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 

When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 

Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.

“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 

Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 

“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  

A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 

“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 

As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 

“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.

Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 

“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”

You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.

“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”

“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 

It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 

“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 

Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 

Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 

You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.

As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 

“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 

Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”

“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”

“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 

“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 

“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 

“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 

“Say that you’re my little slut.”

“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”

Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 

One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.

“I hate you.”

“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.

“I hate you.”

“Keep going, princess.” 

And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 

Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 

When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.

“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 

And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 

Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”

You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 

“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 

“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”

“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”

Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…

When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.

“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”

“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 

Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 

Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.

Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 

You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 

“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 

“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”

“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”

Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 

“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 

You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 

“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 

“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”

Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 

“You do look hot in normal clothes.”

“I don’t think any of this is normal…”

“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 

“Rafe…” you breathed. 

His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hmusunoo]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 - 𝐏.𝐒𝐇

pairings. ᝰ.ᐟ park sunghoon x fem!pregnant!reader

synopsis. ᝰ.ᐟ sunghoon loves when you call him daddy

warnings. ᝰ.ᐟ pure SMUT mdni, reader is pregnant, daddy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, praise kink, pure filth, from this request here!

“ah ah ah babygirl” Sunghoon tisked shaking his head at you as your writhing body beneath his big frame shook. “You don’t get to cum just yet ok? Stop being so selfish and wait for daddy to give you the go ahead first” Sunghoon withdrew himself from you, pulling his cock out in one swift motion before pressing the bulbous tip to your clit rubbing up and down with the slightest pressure.

You whined beneath him. Tears prickling at your eyes threatening to spill at any given moment if he continued his teasing at your entrance.

This had been going on for the better half of an hour, Sunghoon deep inside of you rocking his hips back and forth just until you were so close to the edge but before you could tip over into ecstasy he would retreat leaving you empty and hollow craving to be filled by him again and again.

You were sensitive. Seeing as you were currently seven months pregnant with your child you had very little stamina and a very very high sex drive. The pregnancy seemed to further Sunghoon’s want for you. He was insatiable jumping at you any chance he got.

“Please” You whispered out as you clutched his forearms in your hands begging him to let you cum. “Please let me cum” Sunghoon continued rubbing his tip against your clit giving you the smallest smile.

“You’re so cute” He teased pushing himself in just a little bit, not enough to satisfy that over arching want for him deep inside of you. “How bad do you want it baby?”

“So bad” You cried the tears finally falling from your eyes and onto the apples of you cheeks “Please, please hoon-“

You were cut off by the empty feeling again, Sunghoon had pulled out abruptly leaving you to whine more at the loss of contact.

“You’re being bad” Sunghoon said shaking his head at you. He pulled your face toward his by your chin kissing softly at the tears that fell from your eyes onto your cheeks. “What do you call me”

“D-daddy” You whimpered out lifting your hips off the bed begging for any friction you can get. “Daddy please”

“That’s right sweetheart” Sunghoon smiled he lined his cock back at your entrance smacking the head against your clit in a vulgar display of punishment.

“You’re so fucking hot all round and swollen with my baby” He sat deep inside of you rocking his hips in and out with a steady tempo finally giving into your pleas and whines for him.

“If you weren’t already pregnant i’d knock you up again” His hips smacked at yours harshly, a gasp of surprise leaving your lips. “and again” His hips falling in tune with his words.

“I did a good job right baby?” Sunghoon asked desperately his words coming out as more of a gasp and whine “I did a good job putting a baby in you right?” Sunghoon chased for your praise craving it more then the need to cum at this point.

“Fuck” You squeaked lifting your hips from the bed meeting his thrust halfway “Yes- yes you did daddy you did so good”

“Fuckkk yeah i did” His breathing was harsh as he continued his assault of your heat, you continued to meet him halfway finding it hard to lift your hips. Being seven months pregnant your mobility during sex was hard. you often found yourself in a position just like this one, with Sunghoon over you as you laid almost flat on your back giving him the perfect chance to do as he absolutely pleased with your body. You loved it, truthfully but you sure did miss being a bit dominant and you sure as hell missed riding him.

Sunghoon moved his lips down your neck before he reached one of the most sensitive places on your body at the moment. He attached his lips to your nipples sucking on them lightly. You gasped running your hands through sunghoon’s hair and tugging.

The overstimulation from Sunghoon’s lips on your nipples and his constant nudge of his tip deep inside of you had you nearly combusting.

“I-“ You words could barely even form an ecstasy like no other approaching you at record speed. “I’m gonna cum daddy”

“Cum for me” Sunghoon said lifting his mouth from your nipple nearly sucking the milk out dry. “Cum for daddy sweetheart”

You tipped over the edge at his words. Your eyes rolling back as waves of pure ecstasy consumed you, one thing about pregnancy was that the orgasms we’re ten times more intense this one being no exception.

“Oh fuck” Sunghoon heaved spilling himself inside of you not even a second later, joining you in your euphoric state.

After you had came down from your monumental high and you were able to catch your breath, Sunghoon pulled out of you plopping down on the bed next to you.

“after we have her, as soon as the doctor gives a go ahead i’m getting you pregnant again and again and again”

“Woah-“ You giggled rolling yourself onto your side putting your arm over sunghoon’s chest. “Just one is good for now” You kissed his chest resting your chin to look at him.

“Baby you don’t understand, i can’t look at you without wanting to get you pregnant” You let out a laugh before rolling over to get up to pee.

“We’re going to have a whole village because of you.

taglist - @belovedhoon , @st1llm0nster , @blossommi

[jjunberry]

❝ forever with me ❞

synopsis ⟢ can't promise that things won't be broken but i swear that i will never leave,please stay forever with me…when you’re forced to sit next to the one person you despise the most during a road trip, things get tense as emotions are at an all time high.

pairing ⟢ nishimura riki x fem!reader

genre ⟢ enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol au, slice of life, angst, fluff

warnings ⟢ arguments, cursing, niki & reader being assholes, jungwon and jake playing cupid??

wc ⟢2.2k mlist ⟢

your eyebrows furrowed at jungwon, who stood across from you. “you have got to be kidding me,” your arms crossed. he smiled sheepishly, “i’m sorry but this year, it’s your turn for the back seat.” the back seat which you’ve always avoided since every year niki sat back there. “jungwon, this trip is a four hour drive, you want me to sit next to him for four hours?” jungwon sighed at your question. “with the drivers rotating, you two don’t drive so it’s easier this way.” curse you for not having your drivers license.

“i am not happy about this,” your arms crossed as you plopped down on your couch. jungwon sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. “it’s only for the ride there, you can manage yeah? just take your headphones.” you sighed and nodded, “i’m only doing this for you and the others, don’t expect a peep out of me.” jungwon smiled at your words, knowing there was no way you’d keep quiet against niki.

the days leading up to the road trip, you tried your hardest to avoid niki. key word tried, he always finds a way to get under your skin. whether its taking your seat while out to eat, or cutting you off in line at the mall. it never failed to get a rise out of you. the boys could practically predict what the two of you’d say to each other.

“at least say excuse me, you gremlin,” jake mocked you. “move, you always take to long anyway,” sunoo was quick to mock niki’s response. they of course never did this in front of you two, afraid of even more warfare. despite how funny the arguments could be, they also got quite annoying. the constant bickering was enough to have the group want to rip their hair out.

niki was in no better spirits about having to share his precious back seat with you. he barely liked to share with the guys but to have you back there? the boy wanted to just unpack and not even go. “it’s not that bad,” jake said watching niki angrily shove the remaining items he had into his bag. “it is that bad actually, she’s insufferable. how can i sit next to her for four hours?” niki looked at jake with furious eyes. “look if you drove then maybe you’d be better off, but it’s easier this way”, jake shrugged. niki seriously needed to get his license, he rolled his eyes. “see you in the morning man, just take your headphones and ignore her i guess”, he patted niki’s shoulder before leaving.

you were the last stop before they could go on the road. niki was already annoyed. he only had his wired headphones, the car they rented had a small back seat, so he’d be even closer to you then he wanted to be. he rolled his eyes watching you stumble to the car with your bags. his eyes followed jungwon who jumped out to help you. the trunk opened and jungwon placed your bag in the back, handing you your smaller one. “thank you wonnie,” you grinned, hugging him. “you’re welcome.” he opened the sliding door to let you in.

in the second row sat, jay and jake. the middle was occupied by sunoo and sunghoon. heeseung was driving and jungwon had the passenger seat. “hi everyone,” you greeted them before climbing into the very back seat. niki furrowed his eyebrows when you finally sat down, your shoulder brushing his slightly.

with the reduced space, your legs and shoulders were touching his. niki began bouncing his leg, the annoyance of sitting next to you already bothering him. you looked at him, you wanted to scold him for bouncing his leg, but you remained calm for everyone’s sake. once heeseung checked that everyone was ready he began driving.

everyone was conversing amongst themselves, you tried to occupy yourself on your phone, by looking out the window. niki was like a statue next to you, besides his leg that was still bouncing. you leaned up, propping your head on the back of the middle row seat. “hi,” sunoo giggled seeing your head pop up between himself and sunghoon. “hi,” you grinned.

he motioned with his head, “doing okay back there?” you sighed,” i guess so,” niki let out a groan shifting away from you causing you to fall back from the seat. “stop leaning against me,” niki snapped. “spoke to soon,” you whispered to sunoo before returning to your seat. “sorry jeez,” you scoffed, leaning away from him as far as you could. niki rolled his eyes at you.

a few minutes had passed, you subconsciously began tapping your fingers against your leg. to whatever beat you had in your head, niki clenched his jaw at the rhythmic pattern. it was unbelievably irritating, “can you not?” he asked. you turned to him confused, “what?” he rolled his eyes, “stop tapping your fingers it’s annoying.” you narrowed your eyes at him, “yeah? well so are you bouncing your leg but i didn’t say anything.”

he rolled his eyes and stilled his leg, you smirked slightly before stopping the tapping. you laid your head against the window, feeling sleepy. however the small bumps the car hit were uncomfortable. your smaller bag only had a few things in it, not holding the small stuffed animal you were looking for. it was a small bear, you’ve had since childhood you literally always bring with you. turning so you could reach in the trunk, your body kept bumping into niki. the boy groaned, “what are you doing now? can’t you just sit still?,” he tried to scoot away from you. “i was looking for something,” you grumbled clutching the bear and turning to sit back down. “seriously?” niki noticed the bear you were now holding.

“that could of waited,” he snapped. “i’m going to use him as a pillow, it’s..you know what, i don’t have to explain myself to you.” you placed the bear in a spot to cushion your head. niki scoffed and adjusted in his spot. his leg pushing into yours, “could you maybe not be a dude and save me some room,” you asked pushing his leg back over with yours. “i can’t help it,” his eyes rolled. that’s all his eyes ever did when he looked at you. “we have to stop for gas, if anyone wants snacks or to stretch their legs,” heeseung spoke. once he pulled into the gas station everyone piled out of the car. your arms stretched above your head, a soft groan falling from your lips. goosebumps covered your skin as a chill breeze went by. “can i borrow a hoodie, anyone?” you spoke. they all nodded saying to just grab one from the back. opening the trunk you dug through the bags until you came across what you were looking for. pulling out a large gray zip up hoodie, you smiled once the sleeves covered your cold arms. jungwon came bouncing out of the gas station with a bag full of snacks. “here y/n,” he said, handing you a bag of skittles and a bottle of sprite. “thank you wonnie,” he smiled and got into the passenger seat.

you dreaded sitting next to him again, but everyone was ready to get back on the road. niki had his head turned away from you when you got in. your chest tightened but you refused to let him get to you. “can you scooch over a little bit?,” you asked, squeezing into your seat. his leg was partially on your side. he let out a scoff before pulling leg closer to his side. taking your seat, you pulled your hood up and leaned against the window. niki’s eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his hoodie. he felt his heart pounding against his chest, you looked so good in his clothes. sunoo turned towards you, holding out his bag of gummie worms, “want some?” you nodded reaching into the bag and grabbing two. “thank you,” you grinned.

niki was silent, a storm was brewing inside him. he didn’t think it was fair that you got along so well with the boys. why couldn’t you get along with him like that? why did you two hate each other so much? truth is neither of you could pinpoint any moment that could of caused the mutual feeling of hate between you both. “riki would you like a gummie worm?” sunoo asked holding the bag out to him. niki looked at it seeing no blue left, then he noticed the blue gummie worm in your hand. “no someone already took the last good flavor,” he huffed. your eyebrows furrowed and you handed the gummie worm to him, “here,” his eyes widened as he stared at it. part of him wanted to take it, he didn’t know what caused him not to. “i don’t want it after you’ve had it in your hand,” he grabbed a red one from sunoo before turning to ignore the both of you.

sunoo turned back around to ignore the brewing argument, but you shrugged and said nothing. trying your best to not fight with him.

it wasn’t long before another fight broke out. the bouncing of his leg? a fight. the tapping of your nails? a fight. sunoo pointing out you were wearing niki’s hoodie? a fight. “y/n isn’t that riki’s?,” sunoo pointed towards the gray hoodie on your body. you looked towards the hoodie and shrugged, “yeah i guess so i just grabbed one,” your eyes quickly glanced at niki who had a scowl on his face. “maybe ask before wearing someone else's clothes,” his voice was cold.

“but i did, i asked to borrow a hoodie.” you were quick to defend yourself. “well you didn’t ask to borrow mine so why are you wearing it?” his eyebrows were furrowed. you turned towards niki, angry. “why are you so upset about it? it’s just a hoodie, i’ll take it off. i’m trying to be nice but you’re being a prick,” your hands reached for the zipper pulling it off and tossing it towards him.

your perfume filled his senses as he folded the hoodie and set it beside him. his heart was racing for many different reasons, the glances from the boys made him more angry. “no one wants you here anyway, so of course i’m being a prick,” niki seethed. “i’ll have you know the boys want me here, otherwise i wouldn’t of been invited,” niki laughed. “you’re only here because they pity you, because you cling to them—to everyone like an abandoned puppy. nobody wants you here.”

it felt like your heart stopped. “riki that’s not true,” sunoo spoke up. you drown them out turning towards the window ignoring the boys attempts to speak to you, ignoring niki’s longing glance. his own heart wrenching as he caught sight of the tears welling in your waterline. he put his headphones in and turned towards his window. the familiar sounds of his alternative playlist playing. his leg continued to bounce yet this time you were dead silent. ignoring him all together, he hated to admit it but he missed the attention.

what felt like hours passed before niki couldn’t take it anymore. he plucked one of his earbuds out, handing it to you. you looked at the earbud, then up at him. he wasn’t looking at you, but the thought of hearing music was better than whatever silence your latest fight had caused. swallowing the lump in your throat, you placed the earbud in your ear.

the familiar lyrics of ‘if i’m james dean, you’re audrey hepburn’ filled your ears. your eyes widened not expecting niki to share the same music taste as you. taking the risk you scooted closer to him, to shorten the length of the headphone wire. he let out a deep breath, relaxing his body resting closer to yours.

niki took the peace between you as his chance to apologize. the car intensely quiet, he didn’t trust his voice to come out as a whisper. niki’s hand wrapped softly around your wrist, pulling your arm towards him. he waited to see if you’d pull away, when you didn’t he took a breath. using his finger he carefully spelled out ‘i’m sorry. your breath was caught in your throat, as your heart was hammering against your chest. niki stopped spelling but his hand remain on your wrist, his fingers itching to lace with yours.

taking a chance you opened your hand, palm up. niki was quick to lace his fingers in yours. the song continues between the two of you. sealing your feelings for each other. you leaned your head against his shoulder, your body relaxing against his. niki sighed contently resting his head on yours, his hand holding yours like you’d disappear if he let go.

your relationship was far from mended, the two of you were content with the comforting silence you created. the music and movement of the car was enough to lull both of you to sleep.

in the front seat jake and jungwon shared a knowing look, jungwon grinning knowing he purposely took your headphones. jake smirked knowing their plan worked, and they’re friendcation would be peaceful afterall.

author’s note: eeeek my first riki fic 🥳 hope you all enjoyed it ♡!!

taglist: @jjunieworld @304files @babymochibeargyu @miaroseindreamland @seuliecore @seobluv @ray0magdalene @mimisxs @ppeachyttae @capri-cuntz @eneiyri @50-husbands @riksaes @imma-jiki @luvvhaos (if your name is bold i couldn’t tag you)

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[maiiuelle]

what if rafe and reader are more than friends but they didn’t really put a label on it and even top and kelce noticed but rafe still has the occasional hookup and one night when reader was js thinking abt stuff and then she realizes that shes inlove with rafe but when she came over to tannyhill to confess and rafe answered with his hair all messed up and him shirtless and he basically smelled like sex and when rafe asks why shes there she randomly just runs away and cries in her car while driving home so basically just angst (does that make sense idk)

you feel like your going crazy, standing at tannyhill’s front stoop twiddling your thumbs.

your relationship with rafe cameron is complicated; you’d almost call it a situationship, but you couldn’t put a label on it. you’d been going to all of his parties to serve as arm candy, posed with him at the golf course, and hooked up with him more than once. it’s beyond casual, but he has yet to pop the girlfriend question. even with his little commitment, you’d been finding it hard to keep your mind off of him — or rather, what the two of you had done together. you have to mean more to him than he’s letting on.

so, you knock on tannyhill’s giant glass front door again, biting your lip nervously as you look over the texts you’d already sent him to let him know you were coming.

“hey! just thinking ab u.. are u free tn? <3” you asked right after work, hopping in the shower in hopes you could head straight to his place after.

“busy. work shit. u free on friday?”

“oh idk. sucks we cant do tn, i miss u.” you followed your message with a picture of you sitting on your pink bedsheets, posing in the mirror to show off your silky pajamas. you thought he just needed a little convincing, but he didn’t respond.

“can u call me before bed? sorry, i know u said ur busy.”

by then it had been an hour or two, still no response from rafe. you were pacing around your room. all you wanted was to spend time with him, even if that meant lounging around while he works. anything would do, you just couldn’t stay away.

you came to the conclusion had to show him how much you care somehow, and what better way than to go to tannyhill and confess your love for him — it would be like a romance movie, he’d probably be exhausted from work and happy to see you by then!

“i’m sorry if this is sudden, i just feel like i really need to see you. i’ll just drop by for a second xoxo see u soon”

suddenly, the front door swings open, revealing a very disheveled rafe cameron. his bangs are a mess, sweaty and strewn across his forehead. his whole face is red, his lips swollen, and all he’s wearing are blue flannel pajama pants. you’d seen him like this before, pussy drunk and stumbling around a dark room. your heart deflates as he pushes open the front door, familiar blue eyes squinting at you through the night. “the fuck are you doing? you’re gonna wake up my fuckin’ dad.”

“work shit, huh? really, rafe?” you snap, looking him over completely disgusted. “what’re you d—”

“nah, nah. i told you i was busy — did i not?” he cuts you off, holding a finger in your face and grabbing your upper arm with the other hand, making you jump. “could’a kept yourself from all this if you just listened to me, right? right?” he jostles you, like he could shake a response out of you, but you’re frozen. he lets you go at the sight of your face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “fuckin’ figures.”

“are you.. high?” you pull your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, tears already beginning to brim your waterline at the utter betrayal.

rafe recoils, acting overly offended to take the heat off his obvious cheating. “you’re gonna talk to me like that at my own goddamn house? do me a favor — go home, and i’ll think about callin’ you.”

“don’t bother. asshole.” you cry, turning away. the last glimmer of hope you have is snuffed out when you hear the glass door slam behind him, leaving you alone once again.

defeated, you retreat back to your car, wiping your tear stained cheeks pitifully. you should have known, rafe cameron is a player.

➺ do you…

⟡ hear out rafe’s apology

OR

⟡ tell jj what rafe did

[b1asho]

While it's on the mind, here's my wings of fire designs too. Not as much of a brainrot but still fun. Bad take or am I cooking with some of them? Let me know in the comments. Here's some (too many) notes:

I really liked the original designs when I first read these books, but I wanted to try my hand at uhh changing them a little. Mainly making them more distinct from each other (even if this irreversibly breaks canon XD)

-Sandwings live in a mixed savannah and desert habitat and have bodies adapted for resource scarcity, effective hunting, and heat dispersion. They have large ears to help cool off and listen for stuff. They can fly, but pretty weakly in comparison to some others, mainly using flight to navigate their large territories , get onto cliffs, and scan for prey. They typically climb up somewhere and then jump off. They are built like felines, and use a solo stalk and rushdown hunting approach coupled with a sting instakill. They live in family groups, with a ‘queen’ title going to the alpha female 💪 and everyone else hunting and living together. They are immune to their own venom, which acts very similarly to a scorpion’s but in a massive dose, causing numbness, breathing difficulties seizures, and eventually death. It takes time for them to make more once they’ve expended the dose, so they rarely use it outside of hunting or life/death situations (though the prospect of being stung is very scary to everyone else, and they will instinctively raise their tail when startled or threatened)

-Skywings live in high mountainous and forested areas, with some living in the lowlands. They are powerful flyers and very acrobatic due to their tail, though this comes at the expense of their agility on land and the strength of their non wing arms. They have long legs with powerful talons for grasping prey midair or snatching them from off the ground. They hunt and live alone unless they have a partner. Communities are made up of a loose group of related individuals who rarely collect in one place at once(queendom structure are a more recent and ‘unnatural’ thing for them, but very useful for organizing military efforts and empire building). They stay aloft for long periods of time and usually only land on their cliff homes. They need a sprint or a takeoff point to get flying, though. Unlike every other tribe, they have a noticeable difference between male and female (being a nose horn and red face for males.) males are prized for these features, and having a pretty husband is seen as an attractive trait for a queen.

-Seawings live along the coast. They normally only venture out of the water for trade and other resources, since they can get everything else they need underwater. Their large neck houses gills protected by thick pads that will close when on land, while their lungs are in their mid chest. Primarily adapted to swimming, they have very strong tails and webbed fingers and toes. They will also use their wings to steer and paddle, as well as manipulate things their other arms can’t reach. They will hunt in packs, corralling fish and other animals into a kill zone. They are very clumsy on land and in the air with their short limbs and weak wings. Their bioluminescent spots can be flashed for communication, and compared to the other tribes they have pretty poor vocal ability (due to the gills in their neck getting in the way) and will supplement with other spot/sign signals. Every individual has unique spots, though their glowing ones come in consistent numbers, sizes, patterns, and places on their body so they can use them for common language across their group. However, Different groups from different parts of the ocean have different numbers of spots in different areas, making cross communication via only spots difficult. Their whiskers help navigate in close or dark areas, and are seen as a status symbol.

-Mudwings live in warmer areas, specifically marshes and other wetlands (though sometimes in some forested areas too). Their thick armor helps protect them from other mudwings/competition, while also acting as an insulator that allows them to easily venture a wider range than other tribes from warm climates. Physically, they are the strongest and bulkiest. They typically use the element of surprise and their overwhelming size and strength to take down large prey. However, unlike other tribes they tend to eat more plants too due to their large size (all of them are technically omnivores, but meat makes up the dominant part of their diet because of their energy needs and their ancestors). They are also the poorest flyers out of the bunch, having sacrificed that for size and strength, though they can do short bursts similar to a chicken to get to hard to reach areas or to surprise attack prey faster than them, they’re similar to hippos and are adapted to living in the water too, using powerful webbed arms to propel themselves and dig through the mud, and their large lung capacity to stay submerged and hidden for long periods. Their nostrils, ears, and eyes are located near the top of their head, which also gives more room for Tusks. They use these to root around occasionally defend themselves. Tusk maintenance and appearance is very important to them. They live in large groups of families in the same area and have more communal social standards than other tribes.

-Rainwings live in tropical areas and have a very small habitat range. This has caused them to look and act very different than most tribes, leading to poor perception of them. They use their long claws, strong grasping fingers, and prehensile tail to climb around, and are pretty much arboreal. They have wings meant for quick takeoffs and flight in dense areas, and are pretty agile and swift. They and aren’t that great at sustained flight or dealing with high altitudes and winds though . Their frill is delicate and used for emoting (probably originally for mating purposes) Their skin is packed with chromatophores that they can use to match their surroundings, and they have loose ridges in their skin that they can raise to enhance the effect. Their skin is constantly changing color due to their brain activity, though they have set patterns/colors for emotions and communication. They can also choose to focus on organizing their skin patterns to get coordinated colors and patterns, since normally it’s pretty disorganized. They eat a lot more plants due to their environment and due to social standards, but arent herbivores. They have the ability to spit acid out of hollow retractable fangs, and use precise shots of this coupled with their camouflage ability to get prey. They can also spray it at higher velocities for defense and offense, though this expends their supply much quicker. They don’t recognize a queen in their communities and are fairly disorganized into different cooperative groups.

-Nightwings are the result of a group that split off onto an island, though the volcanic activity on their original island escalated to the point where they had to emigrate. They are great fliers, using their wings and tail extensions to travel great distances to track prey and ambush from above. When on land, they aren’t particularly fast or strong, and instead are built for persistence. Their hunting tactic involves getting an initial bite onto prey, then waiting for it to succumb to infection. Their spines, horns, muscles, and talons are mainly for defending their kill from other Nightwings rather than hunting it in the first place. As a result of this competition, they aren’t naturally very social like other tribes, They are mainly nocturnal.

-Icewings live in the colder tundras and snowy forest environments. They are pack hunters, using their speed and persistence to take down prey, similar to wolves. Their long overlapping scales help them trap heat and survive in the cold, and while the guy i drew here is pretty skinny they also store fat much more readily than other tribes. Their bowed wings are mainly used to swoop in in prey, and like falcons they often take steep dives to grapple it. Their antlers only grow in at a certain time in the year, but royalty will wear embellished artificial ones in the meantime.

[chosok-amo]

FIGHT HER BOYFRIEND FOR ME?!

𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. ⲷ umemiya hajime, togame jo, sakura haruka, suo hayato.

𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳. you got into a fight with a girl and you told your boyfriend to fight her boyfriend.

ⵌ UMEMIYA HAJIME

you, umemiya hajime’s spoiled little girlfriend, burst through the rooftop door with a loud bang, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space. without hesitation, you make a sharp left turn, your footsteps heavy and quick. as you round the corner, you spot the first-year students, hiragi and your beloved boyfriend, umemiya hajime. they're both crouched down, deeply engrossed in tending to hajime's collection of potted plants, oblivious to your presence.

your sudden and forceful entrance startles the boys, causing them to jump. hajime's eyes widen in concern as he takes in your appearance. your uniform is disheveled, the buttons misaligned, and your tie askew. a few dark smudges mark your cheeks, and there are several fresh scratches on your face, evidence of a recent scuffle. your hair is messy, strands falling out of place, and your breathing is heavy, as if you've been running.

hajime quickly stands up, his usually calm and collected demeanor replaced with worry. “what happened to you?” he asks, his voice filled with concern. hiragi stands beside him, equally alarmed, glancing between you and hajime, waiting for an explanation.

hajime's eyes immediately darted to your disheveled appearance, taking in the disarray of your uniform and the fresh marks on your face. concern etched itself across his features as he quickly sprung to his feet, his usual composure replaced with a tinge of worry and unease.

as he reached you, he gently reached out to cup your face in his hands, his touch tender yet firm as he examined the scratches on your skin. his voice was gentle and questioning as he asked, “what happened? who did this to you?” he pulls you to sit on the picnic table along with the first year— suo, sakura, and nirei that just look at you curiously.

“hiragi, can you go and get the first aid kit from the infirmary please?” the blonde nods and hurriedly dashes off to get the first aid kit. hajime then turns his attention back to you, a mixture of worry and anger on his face.

“who did this to you?” he asked once again. but for someone who looks like just got into a fight, you look rather excited than scared. you shift your position to face your boyfriend, “babe, there is a fucking bitch that i just had a fight with and i need you to fight her stupid boyfriend,” your voice echoes across the rooftop without answering your boyfriend, excitedly.

hajime's expression switches from worry to confusion then to annoyance. “are you serious right now? you just got into a fight and now you want me to fight someone else?” he lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. his annoyance is clear as day, evident in his tone, but underneath it, there's a hint of amusement.

“did you really have to get in another fight? And why do you sound so happy about it?”

“do you at least win?” sakura who sits in front of you ask, genuinely curious. doesn't really care the glaring of his leader.

“obviously? that bitch cried and called her boyfriend, fucking pussy,” you stopped for a moment to give suo a high five, the eye-patch boy clearly happy when he looking at you like a dad proud of his daughter before you look at your boyfriend, “that's why baby, you have to fight her boyfriend,” you continue.

hajime‘s annoyance only increases at your nonchalant attitude towards the fight. although a part of him is secretly impressed by your fighting skills, he's trying very hard not to show it. you, out of all the people, he doesn't want to be influenced by anything violence, he just want to keep you the way you are despite how he live his life, just be his little spoiled girlfriend.

“seriously? you got into a fight, won, and now you want me to fight her boyfriend? do you just enjoy getting into fights or something?” he sighs again before speaking again. “and did you really have to call her a pussy?” you snort after hearing the last question before looking at the three musketeers— suo, sakura and nirei, thinking that your boyfriend is so oblivious to asking something as transparent as air.

“because she's a pussy? why she call her boyfriend that, by the way looks like a fucking dying cockroach, to fight with me.” hajime's annoyance turns to slight disbelief at your bluntness. it's a trait he's slowly grown accustomed to, but at times it still catches him off guard. he glances at the three first years who are trying to hold back their laughter.

“a dying cockroach? really, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief. “do you always have to insult people like that?” he shakes his head, slightly amused by your honesty, but still annoyed that you got into yet another fight.

e glances at the first years before looking back at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and slight admiration. “but fine, let me get this straight. you beat up a girl, won, and now want me to fight some guy just because you beat up his girlfriend?”

you look at him puzzle, “yeah?”

hajime can't help but chuckle at your direct answer. he runs a hand through his hair, struggling to keep a serious face. “you know, most girls would be scared or upset after getting into a fight. but no, not you. you're sitting here asking me to fight the boyfriend of the girl you just beat up. you're something else, you know that?”

he sighs again but this time a small smile appears on his lips.

ⵌ SAKURA HARUKA

you open the door to sakura's classroom, immediately scanning the room for your boyfriend, who is in the middle of a conversation with his friends.

the moment you step inside, the room falls silent, and all eyes turn to you, including your boyfriend's. his cheeks flush a bright red when he sees you.

“y/n what—”

“i need you to fight this bitch’s boyfriend right now,” you cut his words. shock and confusion immediately wash over his face at your words. he blinks a few times, trying to grasp the situation.

“huh?!”

he glances around at his friends, their eyes wide with surprise at your sudden appearance. he then looks back at you, a mix of worry and confusion on his face as he walks over to you. “why do i need to fight someone's boyfriend? what the hell happened?” he is standing in front of you, palm touching your elbow softly.

“she said you're too pussy to fight her ugly ass boyfriend and said you were short.”

sakura's expression hardened at that comment from you. he hated being called 'pussy'— he was far away from pussy, and his height was a touchy subject for him, having been bullied for it for years.

your boyfriend clenched his hands into fists, a mix of anger and determination crossing his face as he looked at you. “she dared me to fight her boyfriend, huh? and said i was short, huh? who the hell does she think she is? and her boyfriend agreed?” he clenched his fists tightly, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face.

“they're going to regret talking trash about me,” he muttered, his eyes hardening with determination. sakura's expression darkened further as he clenched his fists tighter.

“yeah, she did. and her boyfriend agreed with her. they both think they can get away with talking trash about us like that,” you purposely fuel your boyfriend's anger with more gasoline, smiling. he gritted his teeth, anger and determination in his eyes, “but they won't. we're gonna show them just how wrong they are.”

“come on, baby, let's fuck this fuckers,” he grabs your hand and walk out of the classroom. sakura's grip tightened around your hand as he walked out of the classroom, nirei's protests falling on deaf ears. sou followed behind with a smile on his face, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

sakura's steps were quick and determined, his eyes focused on the challenge ahead. he was ready to teach that girl and her boyfriend a lesson they'd never forget.

ⵌ TOGAME JO

the flat electronic pressed against your ear as you try to call your boyfriend. first ringing.. second ringing.. and you can hear his lazy voice from the other side.

“what is it babe?” he asked.

“jo, i got into a fight with this girl and i need you to fight her boyfriend for me,” you said.

he chuckled from the other side of the phone. his voice was still tired but it sounded like he was in a good mood. togame let out a soft sigh before standing up straight and crossed his arms, leaning back against the fence. he raised an eyebrow at your words.

“so you want me to go hunt down some guy because you got into a fight with his girl?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice as he pushed his round, yellow-tinted glasses back. “how strong is he?”

“i don't know jo, but he looks like a fucking lizard,” you groan in annoyance as your mind wonder back to few moments ago when you first saw the boyfriend. once again, you cringing, thinking how his already bad-looking face isn't going to worth looking at all after getting a kiss by your boyfriend fist.

he let out a low chuckle at your description of the guy. “you really have a way with words, don't you doll?” he teased. he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back before he spoke again. “so where did you see him last?” you can hear a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“just meet me under the bridge, i'm already here.”

togame let out a slight scoff at your straight-to-the-point order, but he couldn't help but smirk. you always knew how to be direct, it was one of the things he liked about you.

“fine, fine. i'm on my way.” he replied. there was a hint of playful annoyance in his voice but he was already heading towards the bridge. after a few minutes of waiting, togame finally arrived, walking with his typical nonchalant swagger. he approached you with a lazy grin on his face. “you know, i have better things to do than hunt down lizard boys,” he teased.

you smile the moment his lazy figure is caught by your eyes. you pull him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck and giving the taller boy a kiss. “give me a kiss first,” you mumble on his lips.

togame chuckled as you pulled him closer, clearly enjoying your attention. he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. he playfully rolled his eyes at your request but his smile widened, his voice low when he replied. “that needy already, huh?” he teased before he leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

the kiss was intense, filled with a mix of desire and playfulness. after a few moments, togame broke the kiss, reluctantly pulling away and chuckled. “you know, i didn't come here to make out with you,” he said in a teasing voice, although he made no move to let go of your waist.

“maybe we should forget about the fight and come to yours instead, hm?” you smiling at him, sweetly and trying to play innocent as your hand caressing the nape of his neck.

togame raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. he knew you were trying to tempt him, and it was working. he pulled you even closer to him, his arms still firmly around your waist, his voice low as he replied. “you really know how to distract me, don't you?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. he looked down at you, his eyes filled with playful temptation. “come on, let's play a fight in your room,” your eyes didn't leave his as you were trying to persuade him.

togame's eyes darkened, his smirk widening as your words sunk in. the thought of a playful fight with you in his room made his heart race. “well, when you put it like that, how can i refuse?“ he replied, his voice still low and seductive. he leaned down and nipped at your earlobe playfully.

“let's go.”

togame grabbed your hand with a firm grip and pulled you forward, walking at a fast pace. he was eager to get you back to his room, the anticipation growing with each moment. he glanced down at you, a sly expression on his face.

“i hope you're prepared to lose, babe.”

oh, you don't mind at all.

ⵌ SUO HAYATO

you walk into the pothos cafe, where suo hayato is sitting with his friends, enjoying their meal together. “baby, we have a situation,” you announce dramatically, arms crossed. he looks up, raising an eyebrow. “what happened?”

“i got into a fight with a girl,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “and now you need to fight her boyfriend.” suo blinks, his usual calm demeanor slightly shaken with confusion. “wait, what? why do i need to fight her boyfriend?” his friends sitting next to him snicker as their ears perked up in interest.

“why did you even fight her in the first place?” suo questioned you with a slightly confused look, his maroon eye looking at you curiously. you pull out your phone, showing your boyfriend the boy you want him to fight against. “yikes,” he commented the moment he saw the thing on your screen.

“exactly baby, she is using her ugly ass boyfriend to attack me, what a bitch,” you grumble in annoyance. while he was slightly surprised at the size of the guy, he remained quite calm. suo's friends looked at the picture as well and immediately reacted. “damn, even a dog would feel bad for fighting that dude,” one of them laughed loudly— the pink haired one who you don't know what his name is.

he smiles gently at you, and in a soft voice, he reminds you, “baby, that's not a nice thing to say.”

but who is he laying to?

deep down suo's rainbow dictionary cursing the boy, insulting him in the most unexpected and creative way anyone could possibly think. his friends just started to laugh at his gentle attitude, but he ignored them and instead focused on you while his eyes looked you up and down, silently studying any sign of injury.

“you aren't hurt, right?” he asked gently, his eyes showing a hint of worry, but you could clearly tell he was pissed.

his friends snickered at his reaction while continuing to look at the picture. one of them glanced at you, before turning back to suo. “you gotta admit though, that's one bigass guy. it's pretty shitty to use him as muscle against women though. what kind of loser does that?” sakura said, while still examining the picture. “well, he's an even nastier thing to stare at,” you continued with an annoyed look. his friends laughed once again at your words. on the other hand, suo gently patted you on the head with a soft smile.

“be nice, dear,” he teased, pulling you softly by your hands to sit on his lap. he wrapped his arms around you while his friends continued to snicker at the sight of the two of you. he placed his chin on your shoulder as he continued to look over you for any signs of injury.

“what did you fight her over anyway?” he asked.

“nothing crazy,” you explained, “I was just walking past her, and she made some rude comments, and things escalated. I didn't even do anything wrong, but it seems like she couldn't handle a little confrontation.” he nodded as he listened to your explanation, the grip on you tighening slightly. “so she just started it for no reason?” he questioned, although you could tell he knew the answer.

“yeah,” you nodded.

you turn your head to face the eye-patch boy, “so?” ask him curiously, even tho you know there's almost zero chance he would fight the boy. you're safe in his arm, no injury, there is no need to fight and makes things worse. he remained silent as he seemed to be in deep thought, and his friends sat there silently as well, awaiting his response. finally after a moment, he sighed softly.

“baby, I'm not gonna fight him.”

you groan, rolling your eyes as you let out a sigh as you know your boyfriend too well, “oh come on, we can make it like a little date.” he raised an eyebrow, amused. his friends also seemed amused that you actually thought you could get him to agree, but he humored you anyway.

“a date? In what universe is fighting another guy on a date a good idea?” he questioned while his grip on you remained firm. again, a soft groan leaving your lips, “ugh, you suck.” you turn around and give him your back as you rest your chin on top of your hands laying flat on the table.

his friends snickered gently as they witnessed your interaction, clearly enjoying the moment. suo smiled while his eyes looked at you with a mixture of amusement and irritation. his hand gently patted your back as he spoke, “baby, don't pout. you know I'm not going to fight him.”

your eyes meet sakura's figure as he busy himself with omurice in front of him. “how about you, sakura? wanna be my boyfriend for a day and fight that loser?” you ask.

sakura looked up from his food, raising an eyebrow as he heard your unexpected proposal. he glanced at suo for a moment before looking back at you with a smirk.

“sure, I'll do it,” he said, “it'll be fun to kick someone's ass.”

suo sighs and sips his tea, knowing full well that neither you nor sakura are serious, did he?

sakura continued to eat his food quietly as he smirked slightly, enjoying the situation. meanwhile, you sat there with your back turned to suo, still pouting and feeling disappointed.

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.

about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”

after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.

“hah?”

you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.

katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.

not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.

you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.

just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.

katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.

“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.

shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”

“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.

bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.

freaking tease.

it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”

“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”

“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”

“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.

you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”

you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.

this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“

“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.

“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.

bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”

he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.

“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.

a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.

every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.

you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.

“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.

he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”

“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”

katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.

“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”

“oh…oh fuck you.”

“‘m trying babe.”

“fuck you. slut.”

“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[specshroom]

A Mischievous Fairy

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

When a humble farmer decided to live on the outskirts of town right next to the forest he did not expect to make friends with a small temperamental creature from the forest.

It was a pretty good deal you had going on, you help his plants grow with fairy magic and he gives you a safe warm place to sleep and home cooked meals. Most days are spent with you doing your best to annoy the poor farmer as he tries to remind himself that you're the reason his produce sells for such high prices.

You fly around his head making little jingle noises and he tries to ignore you and go on with his work. You steal little things like spoons, screwdrivers, pencils and put them in places he can't reach like on top of the cabinets and shelves. When you get mad at him you grow weeds in his crops until he apologizes or gives you a gift to your liking. Despite this the farmer has grown to truly enjoy your company...for the most part.

His loneliness is getting to him and he's tried to have company over but it's kind of hard to explain to guests why there's a little, scantily clad fairy staring daggers at them the whole time. It definitely ruins the mood as he tries to convince them you won't bite (you will and you have).

One day the farmer comes home from town looking more excited than usual. You plop yourself on his head as he walks around his little cottage.

As he sorts through all the items he bought you get impatient and decide he's not paying enough attention to you. You fly right in front of his face and pose for him, showing off the new outfit you made out of flower petals in his garden.

"Not right now, Tiny."

The farmer rolls his eyes and gently shoos you away with his hand, focusing back onto his apparently very interesting haul from the market. The very rude gesture gets you all fired up and you're in his face again this time with your hands on your hips and an angry expression. The farmer sighs and gently cradles your tiny body in his hands.

"Look, I'm busy. Alright?"

He walks over to the windowsill and gently plops you down onto the little pincushion he set aside for you. You sit there with your arms crossed, glaring at him as he puts away his items.

While you're sulking you notice a little bottle of purple liquid poking out of the farmers front pocket. You quietly flutter over and sneakily inch the tiny thing out of his pocket.

"Hey!"

The farmer tries to stop you but you're much faster than him and fly up, out of his reach. The glass bottle is a little bigger than you're torso and when you inspect it the label says "Growth serum"

You let out quite a dramatic gasp and look down at the farmer, betrayal written all over your face.

"Now Tiny, don't jump to conclu-"

The farmer starts but is interrupted by a very angry fairy yelling things he doesn't understand right in his face. All he can hear is jingles but he's sure he's getting severely cussed at. He understands why, you helped this man grow his crops bigger and better than ever and now you think he wants to replace you for some stupid, probably overpriced serum?

You angrily throw the bottle to the ground and the farmer dives down to clumsily catch it before it smashes onto the floor.

As you feel tears fall down your hot cheeks, you flutter back to your windowsill and sit with your head between your knees.

"Hey, don't cry now."

The farmer sheepishly leans against the windowsill next to you.

"I promise, it's not for the plants. You already help me out so much with that and I appreciate it a lot. I don't need anything else."

You peak your head out from your arms and look at him skeptically.

He holds his hand out to you and you hesitantly flutter onto his palm, enjoying the warmth of his touch despite the cold wetness of your cheeks.

"Truth is, it's lonely for me out here... and I know you get lonely too."

You scoff at him. Obviously, the whole reason you were upset in the first place was because he was ignoring you.

"I uh... I got this for you. So we could....uh well only if you want to, I mean... I don't know."

You stare at him dumbfounded as he fumbles his words, you've never seen the farmer like this before.

You shoot up to hug his cheek, jingling in excitement. You give him tiny kisses and he laughs at the ticklish feeling. You float to the counter in front of him and bounce on your heels waiting for him.

"Alright, alright."

He chuckles at your stark change in mood and uncaps the tiny bottle of magic liquid. You brace yourself as he carefully lets one single drop fall onto your little head.

Nothing happens for a moment but before you could feel disappointed the world blurs and you're suddenly face to face with your farmer.

He stares down at where you sit on his counter, now perfectly human sized. Your cute dress didn't survive the quick transition but you don't seem to mind as you jump the poor farmer.

You grab his face and kiss him deeply. Finally feeling his lips on yours makes your wings flutter and your heart sing as you lock your legs around him to pull his body closer.

"Alright, slow down."

He says through kisses and huffed laughs as you kiss all over his face and neck.

"Now why don't you let me show you how much I appreciate you."

He mumbles in a sultry tone, bringing his hands down to grip your ass and grind your hips into him.

He laughs at the way your wings violently flutter and takes that as eager agreement.

˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˚˖′.⊹ ࣪ ˖˚·˖*.⊹

[moon7jay]

Pent up (l.hs, p.sh)

Read pt.2 here

Warnings : Non con, dub con(?), morally grey plot obviously (what do u even expect from me), filth, smut

Heeseung could feel the familiar itch in his chest and palms... and somewhere else. Well his dick to be precise.

He was horny. Inexplicably and utterly horny. could you blame him? His fanbase was majorly comprised of females. Hot females. But they weren't allowed to mingle with fans and that heightened his yearning more. Like craving the taste of a forbidden fruit.

He rubbed an exasperating hand over his sweaty face, breathing heavily through his nose to get in as much oxygen as he could, the testosterone was high in the hotel room, everyone still riding the adrenaline rush from the concert even though it had been done and over an hour ago. The tension was high in their bodies still and he could feel himself buzzing with it.

He knew it was practically impossible to get pussy at this hour, especially with the whole NDA thing and it agitated him further. His balls were heavy and in a desperate need to be drained empty by a tight warm pussy or mouth, he didn't even care, he just needed release.

He mentally thanked God for being the oldest and having the solo room privileges cuz it seemed like hardcore porn and his hand would have to do for the night. He was so ready to jerk off till his dick ached.

"Gonna head to my room" he informed Jay, who was sitting beside him on the spacious couch, just in case their manager started panicking upon not finding him with the rest of the boys.

Jay gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend. That lucky fucker, heeseung thought. Jay's girlfriend was hot, heeseung had checked her out shamelessly on multiple occasions, even tried to get into her personal space a lot of times until Jay strictly told him to back off. Well, his bad, but what could he do? He was just a man who thought with his dick most of the time.

You heard him before you saw him, the sudden click of the door opening startling you enough to make you jump and turn around towards it. With the air freshener still in your hands, you came face to face with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

First thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, looking down at you even from a distance. His messy hairs fell over his forehead , his entire body clad in a casual black shirt and sweats attire. You gulped cuz this wasn't a part of the job. You were told to ready up the rooms for some very important people who would be staying at the hotel tonight but no one was supposed to be here for another hour or two. or maybe you messed up the timings again. Oh you were fucked.

The gorgeous man raised an amused eyebrow at your deer caught in the headlights stance and that's what finally made you break out of your inner monologue and you bowed to him, body on autopilot to do damage control

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience sir, i wasn't aware you would get here this fast, I just need to fix the bed and I'll be done" you stuttered out, hoping a quick apology would be enough and turned back around to quickly fix the sheets, spraying the freshening spray around, hoping you won't be reported to the manager for this blunder.

What you failed to notice in your inner panic was how heeseung turned the lock of the door, setting the bolt in place, basically locking you in the room with him.

You didn't notice how his eyes scanned your figure while you apologized to him, or how his blood ran hot when the word "sir" came out from between those tempting, glossed lips of yours.

You didn't notice how his eyes ran shamelessly over your exposed legs, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while he ogled the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the bed sheets.

Damn, heeseung thought, his dick twitching in interest, already leaking in his pants with how excited he was becoming at the sight of you.

You jumped upon feeling two large palms grabbing your sides, a squeak falling from your lips at the unwelcome touch

"What the fuck" was the first thing that came out of your mouth, caught too off gaurd to even react properly.

You tried to turn around to push him away but before you could even move he was twisting your body, manhandling you onto the bed. Your mouth opened to scream but a large palm stopped your attempt, your eyes widened in terror upon feeling his large body settle over yours, one tight grip on both of your wrists, trapping your hands above your head while his hand covered your mouth.

Heeseung was ecstatic, he could feel how soft you were against his hard body,your tiny figure squirming underneath his harsh hold, wide scared eyes staring up at him through wet lashes, he wanted to coo, you looked so adorable like this. Just ready to be fucked.

"You know I could easily get you fired sweetheart, just don't fight this" He threatened subtly, his calm voice oddly did the trick and you halted your struggling body.

You were a broke college student barely making ends meet. Your younger siblings depended on you for everything and so just the thought of getting fired was enough to chill your bones. That just wasn't something that you could afford. Tears flowed down your cheeks but you complied. Accepting your fate.

His eyes pivoted to your heaving chest, the open button at the top of your dress shirt giving him a peak of your perky mounds, driving him crazy with his rising lust for your body.

"Going to remove my hand but only if you'll be a good girl" he whispered, his hot breath fanned your face and you nodded too enthusiastically, making him chuckle and remove his hold on your mouth. His hand instantly moved to unbutton your shirt, making you sniffle into yourself. You closed your eyes in disgust, not wanting to see what was happening to your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his rough hand squeezed your chest harshly.

An excited "fuck" fell from his lips upon feeling your soft tits, hardening him further in his pants. He duck down to run his nose along your clavicle, breathing you in while he groped the sensitive flesh of your boobs mercilessly. He traced the length of your neck and jaw, leaving small kisses and bites, eventually coming face to face with you.

"Open your pretty eyes I want you to see me do this to you" he whispered on your lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. His nails dug into your mounds when you didn't listen, making you cry out in pain and giving into his wishes.

Your tear strained eyes looked into his lust blown hazy ones, watching how he suckled on your bottom lip, opening your mouth pliantly when he thrust his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking, lewd noises coming from him at the taste of your tongue.

Heeseung was painfully hard. And as much as he wanted to take his time exploring your body, he was too fucking impatient to do so. His dick was weeping to get inside your warm fuck hole and he was not going to deprive himself of the much needed relief of your body any longer.

He moaned into your mouth, licking deeper while his hand travelled down between your legs, moving under your dress skirt to probe at your pussy from above your panties, making you gasp into his hungry mouth. That breathless gasp and the feel of your cunt was what did him in.

Removing himself from your body he climbed down the bed while you watched him petrified. Nerves frozen in anticipation of his next move.

"Take off your panties" He instructed you while he undressed his lower half, hastily taking off his sweats and boxers, exposing his hard and leaking dick to your terrified eyes.

You sobbed, your thighs closing upon the sight of his member, it was so big and you could already imagine the pain it was going to put you in. You saw how his jaw clenched at your lack of action, sharp and annoyed eyes staring daggers at your face

"we can both enjoy this if you don't fight me baby, or I can enjoy this alone I don't fucking mind it either way" He gritted through his teeth, climbing back on top of you. Before he could reach for your clothes your small hands were stopping him, sniffing softly as you took a good look at him. His inquisitive eyes watched you impatiently.

"O-okay" You whispered and slowly reached down to take off your panties, opening your legs for him. A weird tingling feeling was starting to build up in between your legs upon seeing his leaking length. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a while or maybe you were a freak but you could feel the moisture starting to accumulate in your pussy.

He bit his lower lip upon seeing you so pliant and ready to take him. God he needed to fuck the shit out of you. "That's a good fucking girl" he whispered.

He didn't wait any longer to aim his cock at your entrance, parting your pussy lips and breaching the opening of your cunt, a pained moan leaving your lips while he groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your snug walls.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, your back arching at the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you so roughly, burying himself in your womb to the hilt.

"fuck yeah baby" He groaned upon feeling his balls slap your asscheeks, finally fitting his entire dick inside your warm and tight pussy.

He didn't give you time to adjust, his hips moving on pure animal instinct to fuck. You screamed in pain at his brutal movements but the constant bumping of his dick into your cervix was making your eyes roll back into your head.

His hips moved against yours roughly, pelvic smacking sounds filling up your senses. Heeseung's mind was focused on the singular thought of your pussy, brows furrowed and mouth open as he moved his dick in and out of you, enjoying the tight clench of your walls, giving him so much pleasure his entire body was on fire

"your cunt is making me feel so good" he panted on your face, his movements never ceasing, you could feel every drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls, making you moan in pure pleasure

"You're getting wetter the more we fuck baby" He chuckled through strained voice, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, taking you deeper, penetrating his cock way past your womb.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, moaning helplessly as he grinded his lower body into yours, your colliding sexes making a mess now that you were leaking onto the sheets

"That's right-fuck-enjoy it with me, a little fun never hurt anybody" He grunted, increasing his pace, desperately chasing the friction your pussy was giving him

"Oh my god-" you screamed when he continued to beat your insides raw, bumping continuously against your g spot.

"Yeah? feels good doesn't it baby? giving it to you so good yeah?" he spoke, his thrusts merciless. Railing you into the bed.

Your hips chased his own, opening your legs further for him, enjoying the sex more than you were supposed to. If this was happening to you, you might as well enjoy it right?

Your lips attached themselves to his throat and he moaned, lust blown eyes staring down at you

"You are getting off to this you little fucking slut, fuck yeah " He spat at you in disgust but the twitch of his dick inside your womb didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You like when men force themselves inside your slutty little cunt yeah? makes you feel so good doesn't it baby?" His words only made you wetter, your juices leaking onto his balls.

He was busy pounding you into the sheets, the bed creaking loudly, skin slapping sounds so deafening you didn't hear the lock jingling and the door opening.

"Mhmm fuck, busy enjoying alone?" a manly voice interrupted your pleasure filled haze, your eyes darting to the side as a tall and even more gorgeous figure came in your field of vision. His eyes were focused on you and how heeseung was railing you.

Even though you wanted to hide away from his gaze, the lust filled phase your mind was in was turning you on more.

Heeseung didn't cease his movements, smirking at the spare key in sunghoon's hand, he sighed in pleasure at the way your pussy was clenching rapidly around his dick, excited at the prospect of someone watching you fuck

"little slut, she likes that you're here" he panted, folding your body in half and fastening his hips, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.

"fuck keep clenching on me baby, I'm so fucking close" He groaned, his movements incessant, holding your hips and moving rapidly against you, harsh breaths fell from his lips, eyes focused on yours. He slotted his mouth against yours and moaned out loud, his hips stilling inside you while he filled you with his fuck cream,moaning in satisfaction.

His subtle grinds were frustrating you, needing more friction to reach your own high. Heeseung felt your hips pushing up from the bed to chase his dick and chuckled in disbelief

"you want more dick?" he asked pulling out of you with a pop and watching his thick cum leak out of your hole. You nodded, your hand moving down to circle on your clit, arching into your own touch like a literal sex hungry slut.

"fuck that's hot" sunghoon groaned and your eyes moved to him, his hand squeezed his bulge from above his pants while he watched your movements with hungry eyes. In your sex drunk haze you had forgotten he was even there. You opened your legs further, showing him what you were doing.

"You can stick it inside of her you know, bet she wants it bad" heeseung taunted at him, climbing down the bed and taking a seat on the couch across from it.

Sunghoon was scurrying to unzip his pants as soon as he understood the meaning of heeseung's words and before you knew he was settling over your body, rubbing his dick against your slit, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation of getting dicked down again.

"Where did you even find her, I thought we weren't supposed to fuck fans" He asked looking over at heeseung briefly before pushing himself inside you with a pained groan. You screamed at the sudden penetration, body squirming.

"so fucking tight" he let out through gritted teeth, snapping his hips into yours impatiently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your body into him. God he was so much bigger than heeseung, your pussy felt so full, you could already feel your high approaching.

"She's not a fan" heeseung groaned gruffly, making you glance over at him, your pussy clenched crazily upon seeing how he sat manspreading on the couch, his dick in his palm, jerking off while he watched you.

Sunghoon didn't question him further, at this point he couldn't care less about who you were, he just wanted to fuck your pussy and that's all that mattered to him.

His hands moved down to help you wrap your legs around his waist and he started thrusting inside of you, a pleasurable groan leaving him upon feeling your wet snatch

"warm and wet, she's like every guy's fucking wet dream" He grunted, his hips snapping rapidly into yours, fucking his dick into your fuck hole in a frenzy. He wasn't going to last long.

"she is isn't she, fucking slut, fuck her pussy , beat it till it's red and raw" Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, his movements fastening on his dick, squeezing his balls and sighing in the overwhelming pleasure.

"fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned and adjusted his hips to reach inside you deeper, making you moan in pleasure, incoherent words falling from your lips, you could taste your orgasm on the the tip of your tongue. "Such good pussy fuck yeah you should get paid for it" He chuckled breathlessly and you moaned at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way.

Your hips chased his dick desperately, fucking yourself back on him

"Yeah you like this don't you? - holy shit-like when men use your tight little cunt to jerk off their dicks don't u baby?" sunghoon panted on your face and you moaned, nodding your head while he pounded you into the sheets

"Cum In her hoon, fill that filthy pussy to the brim" heeseung moaned, his hips lifting off the couch as he watched your grinding bodies fucking like animals on the bed. Hot pleasure was running through his viens and he could feel himself close to another release.

"Shit yeah, so good, feels so good, yeah mhmmnfuck" sunghoon rambled burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his hips grinded into yours, feeling so close, so close, so-

A gutteral moan ripped from his throat and he was coming undone inside of your cunt,the feeling of his warm cum pushing you over the edge, moans and groans filling up the room

"fuck, fuck, fuck ugh God" Heeseung gasped, spilling his cum all over his hand and thighs, his stomach clenching and caving upon feeling such mind numbing pleasure.

Sunghoon's body fell upon yours, grinding a few times to properly fill you with his cum and then he was pulling out of your abused cunt. Groaning upon seeing the mess you were making on the sheets.

Your head lulled to the side in exhaustion, body so sore and mind so numb that you didn't even notice the flash going off as sunghoon captured the sight of your leaking pussy on his phone, saving it in his jerk off folder. He was quick to adjust his dick inside his pants and climb down the bed

"thanks man I needed that" He said and winked at heeseung. Heeseung nodded at him and watched as he left the room fully satisfied. His eyes fell on your spent and naked figure on the bed and he could feel his dick twitch in interest again. Fuck.

Before he could decide against it, he was picking up his phone and dialing jake's number

"Hello?" came jake's muffled voice from the speaker

"Come over to my room and bring Jay with you, I've got the perfect thing for you to relieve the pent up tension"

"Is it your ps5? Because I don't-

"It's a pussy"

Heeseung smiled upon hearing the instant scurrying he could hear over the speaker and he faintly heard jake calling jay's name before he hung up on him.

The night was going to be so so long.

[elodieunderglass]

Having dug out the Unfinished Tales to reference a conversation Tolkien wrote between Gandalf and Pippin (but didn’t publish) I thought I’d share it. Gandalf is talking to Pippin about the history of Thorin’s company, hobbits and why he chose Bilbo.

This is evidence for the grand statement I just made about how Bilbo was intended to be a catalyst that changed his society, and that hobbit society was indeed significantly different after his journey, with large social changes occurring between The Hobbit and Fellowship. But it’s also a very funny passage to me so here it is:

‘And then there was the Shire-folk. I began to have a warm place in my heart for them in the Long Winter, which none of you can remember.

They were very hard put to it then: one of the worst pinches they have been in, dying of cold, and starving in the dreadful dearth that followed. But that was the time to see their courage, and their pity one for another. It was by their pity as much as by their tough uncomplaining courage that they survived. I wanted them still to survive.

(😭😭😭😭. Also the theme of having pity for each other is what redeems both Bilbo and Frodo re: Gollum.)

But I saw that the Westlands were in for another very bad time again, sooner or later, though of quite a different sort: pitiless war.

(This is possibly one reason why this passage didn’t make it to publication - Gandalf shouldn’t have had this much foreknowledge of the upcoming war of the ring.)

To come through that I thought they would need something more than they now had. It is not easy to say what. Well, they would want to know a bit more, understand a bit clearer what it was all about, and where they stood.

(It’s also explaining that Bilbo’s role in Thorin’s company was predetermined both by a more omnipotent Gandalf and by Fate; that Gandalf selected Bilbo to be a social catalyst, to return and provoke hobbit society into a more adaptable, resilient state; therefore increasing their chances of surviving.)

They had begun to forget: forget their own beginnings and legends, forget what little they had known about the greatness of the world. It was not yet gone, but it was getting buried: the memory of the high and the perilous. But you cannot teach that sort of thing to a whole people quickly. There was not time.

(Thus Bilbo was supposed to be changed, and return changed by his journey, to teach his people.)

And anyway you must begin at some point, with some one person. I dare say he was “chosen” and I was only chosen to choose him; but I picked out Bilbo.’

‘Now that is just what I want to know,’ said Peregrin. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘How would you select any one Hobbit for such a purpose?’ said Gandalf. ‘I had not time to sort them all out;

(He is SO funny)

but I knew the Shire very well by that time, although when I met Thorin I had been away for more than twenty years on less pleasant business. So naturally thinking over the Hobbits that I knew, I said to myself: “I want a dash of the Took” (but not too much, Master Peregrin)

(This is brilliant we are always BODYING pippin constantly. NOT TOO MUCH TOOK 👀. We were ROBBED not having this in canon )

“and I want a good foundation of the stolider sort, a Baggins perhaps.” That pointed at once to Bilbo.

(Eugenics! Observing them like laboratory mouse lines! Call him a Charles River BILB/o the way you’re genotyping these poor little bastards for your purposes)

And I had known him once very well, almost up to his coming of age, better than he knew me.

(??? Hiding in the bushes spying or…?)

I liked him then. And now I found that he was “unattached” – to jump on again, for of course I did not know all this until I went back to the Shire. I learned that he had never married. I thought that odd, though I guessed why it was; and the reason that I guessed was not the one that most of the Hobbits gave me: that he had early been left very well off and his own master.

(Was it cos he’s gay as fuck, Gandalf)

No, I guessed that he wanted to remain “unattached” for some reason deep down which he did not understand himself – or would not acknowledge, for it alarmed him.

(I 100% now and for always love a narrator in a constant state of Just Fucking Lies To Everyone All The Time, Giving Us Nothing, Acknowledging Nothing Including Himself. NOPE NOT PROCESSING ANYTHING TODAY THANKS. WE’RE CLOSED. COME BACK TOMORROW. just A Massive Liar about everything and for what!!! Bilbo Baggins my beloved you were born wrong.)

He wanted, all the same, to be free to go when the chance came, or he had made up his courage. I remembered how he used to pester me with questions when he was a youngster about the Hobbits that had occasionally “gone off ”, as they said in the Shire. There were at least two of his uncles on the Took side that had done so.’

You can see why I love this! And I can see why Tolkien didn’t include it, too. Still very fun passage and near enough to canon to be used if you ever want to.

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

matching bracelets (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.

based on the prompt: person A gets person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.

warnings: mentions of blood and torture (not explicit, briefly mentioned)

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: guess who's back after a year of being mia!! i've been working on a lot of fics, but inspiration just hasn't been there, so i'm going slow, i don't like to force myself to write if i don't feel like it. anywaysss, i hope you enjoy this one! it was such a fun ride to write :)

Jesper opens the door with a loud bang, strutting into the Slat with his head held high and a slight jump in his step. He’s whistling good-naturedly, his left hand twirling a pistol and his right hand holding a rumpled piece of paper.

(Y/N)’s right hand— which had immediately reached for the pocket knife in her boot at the tumultuous noise— retreats back to her side. She relaxes, letting her shoulders sag and briefly looking down to make the final correction on a contract Kaz had her look over, left hand holding the pen and swiftly moving over the paper.

Jesper makes his way towards her, still whistling. She follows him from the corner of her eye, a slight smirk taking over her features. He’s in a good mood, the kind of mood he’s only ever in when the Gods are in his favor and he manages to miraculously not gamble away all his money. It’s not something that happens often.

“Did you win some?” she asks, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way the Sharpshooter preens under the attention. Jesper, very much in character and to (Y/N)’s delight, twirls around and does a ridiculous dance before taking a small bow.

“Baby, I won a whole lot.”

She huffs out a laugh, leaning back as she watches him place the pistol in its respective holster before plopping down on the chair by her right side and tossing her a small bag.

(Y/N) catches it smoothly, reflexes as sharp as always.

She doesn’t need to open the sack to know there’s kruge in there; the sound of coins jiggling against each other is a dead giveaway.

Jesper winks, a teasing smile on his lips. He tips his chair back, feet on top of the table, “Because you’re my favorite.”

It’s really because he owes her more kruge than he’ll ever be able to repay, but (Y/N) plays along. She’s never cared much about money, anyways.

“You sure do know how to charm a lady,” she smirks.

“I’m good at charming gents, too.”

“Versatile.”

“You know me.”

(Y/N) smiles, softer around the edges this time, something reserved only for her closest friends. She’s about to being correcting another contact— she has twelve to go through, all because she’d been bored and had decided annoying Kaz would be a great way to spend her time, he obviously hadn’t agreed —when Jesper slides over the piece of paper he’d been holding in his right hand. In the time he’d made his way towards her he’d somehow managed to crumple it completely.

She takes it, half curious, half willing to do anything to procrastinate revising and correcting those stupid documents.

“Brought this for you, too. I’ve got the feeling you’re going to enjoy this much more than the money.”

Her eyebrows furrow with curiosity as she slowly opens up the paper.

Ink contrasts the yellowish hue of the paper. Her own face greets her, drawn by hand, but fairly accurate.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Wanted dead or alive.

1,000 kruge.

She can’t help the snicker that falls from her lips

Jesper is right. This is better, much better.

“Can’t believe it’s only a thousand this time,” she huffs, a small pout on her lips. “I must be losing my touch.”

Jesper snorts at that.

(Because she hasn’t lost her touch, not even a little, and they both know it. Just yesterday she’d managed to get vital information out of a Black Tip member with a single touch and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Three days before that she’d disposed of a rival gang member who’d been speaking too freely and she’d made sure his body would never be found. Two weeks prior to that Kaz had sent her to steal a miniature stature and she’d done it without a hitch, forging an identical copy in less than five days. No, she still very much has it.)

“I might have to go overboard next time,” she muses quietly to herself, “do something that will raise the bounty to at least two thousand five hundred.”

She traces the outline of her name, biting down a smile when Jesper snorts.

“You’re insane,” the Sharpshooter deadpans, the fondness in his tone almost tangible.

(Y/N) smiles wickedly at him, “So they say.”

Marbles is what they’ve nicknamed her around the Barrel. They say she’s lost them all. And it must be true, she must be out of her mind, because having a bounty on your head in Ketterdam is nothing less than a death sentence. It means having the most ruthless assassins coming after you, all looking for a way to make fast money. It’s living with the constant fear of someone sneaking up on you and slicing your throat, of having your food poisoned, of being choked to death in your sleep, of having your closest friends betray you as a means to survive. But to (Y/N), who has been part of the city’s underworld since before being able to formulate words, who has had any sort of ability to feel fear beaten out of her, this is nothing but one of the most amazing sources of entertainment. It keeps her on her toes, brings an adrenaline rush that does not compare to anything else. She must be crazy because any sane person would be paralyzed in fear, running for their lives, and yet all she can feel is the comforting thrill of being in mortal danger. (And, yes, it is comforting. She was raised to be a weapon, trained to withstand any form of torture; having Death peering over her shoulder is something she’s comfortable with, something she’s used to, something that soothes her). Besides, even if she wasn’t deadly confident in her own abilities (which she very much is), and even if she was able to feel terror overtaking her limbs (which she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel again), the title she holds would be enough to keep her relatively safe; she is Kaz’s right hand, and no one dares touch something that belongs to Dirtyhands.

(Y/N) stares at the poster for a little while longer— they got her nose wrong, made it too pointy —before smirking to herself. She knows how this will all go down, has seen it played out a few dozen times before (this is a regular occurrence, after all, a bounty is placed on her head every couple of months, whenever she loses her temper and murders someone who was deemed untouchable, or steals something much too valuable for her blood-stained hands). So, yes, she knows how this will go; the bounty will stay up for a couple of weeks, long enough for a few to dare try to kill her, and then it’ll be removed by whoever placed it once they realize it’s futile, once they see how everyone who even dares breathe too close to her winds up dead. She hopes the assassination attempts are entertaining, she hopes whoever dares come after her head gives her a good fight, if only to keep things interesting. It’s been a while since she’s had some unrestrained fun.

(Kaz keeps her on a tight rein, knows better than to let her run around freely. To say things can get out of hand when she’s left to her own devices would be an understatement.)

“Again?”

The voice comes from behind her, and (Y/N) doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she heard his steps since before he even walked into the room. (It’s easy to know when it’s Kaz, he subconsciously places more weight on his left leg to keep the right one from aching, it makes his footsteps distinctive.) Still, she angles her head to meet his eyes. He’s leaning over her chair, cold eyes watching the bounty poster with disdain.

He’s never said it but (Y/N) knows that he doesn’t appreciate her life being imperiled. She is, in a way, an extension of him, and therefore any threats to her he sees as direct threats to him. Dirtyhands doesn’t take it well to being threatened.

“It’s okay, boss,” Jesper calls out. He’s still tipping his chair back, now playing with his guns. (Y/N) is kind of tempted to lean forward and kick one of the chair’s wooden legs, just to watch him struggle, possibly even fall. But Jesper’s known her long enough to realize when she’s on the verge of becoming a nuisance because his eyes narrow playfully and he lets the chair’s weight drop forward, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) can see the way Kaz’s face morphs. It’s almost indistinguishable, but she notices it. She thinks she would be able to spot the most minimal change in Kaz, she’s known him long enough for that. (Y/N) watches in amusement as he opens his mouth, no doubt to argue that he isn’t worrying at all, because Gods forbid he ever outwardly cared about anyone, but Jesper beats him to the punch and keeps going, “Heard some of Pekka’s Lions talking ‘bout how they’re not even going to try to come after her this time.”

“How boring,” she mutters to herself in disappointment, reaching for her glass of whisky. She’d meant for the comment to go unheard but Jesper’s snicker tells her that she wasn’t successful.

She takes a chug as Jesper points an accusatory finger at her and smirks, “That’s all on you, Marbles.”

At her bewildered look, he elaborates, “Two of them said something about not wanting to meet the same fate as the Razorgull guy from a couple of months ago—” (Y/N) smirks at that. The guy had deserved it. He hadn’t just tried to kill her, but also grope her. Murder she could understand, respect even, but touching someone else without their consent? No, she drew the line there. She’d had him swallow his own testicles; it’d seemed fitting enough. “—and the other one said that even if you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t come close, not with you being Kaz’s right hand,” Jesper pauses for a second, a smug smile appearing on his lips, “and his best friend.”

Their reaction is instantaneous; Kaz goes rigid at the words and a smirk takes over (Y/N)’s features.

Oh, if the night didn’t just suddenly get better.

She glances up at her best friend, only to find him already glaring daggers at Jesper, who shrugs helplessly and innocently says, “Just telling it like I heard it, boss.” The flicker of amusement in his eyes reveals that he’s very much aware of just how much ammunition he’s provided (Y/N) with.

(Y/N)’s smirk becomes wider and gains a teasing edge when Kaz looks down to meet her eyes. His eyes harden, explicitly telling her to not utter a single word. Sadly for him, she has never been one to follow the rules, and Kaz must notice she’s not about to obey because his face morphs slightly, just enough to show the most minimum amount of discomfort. He cringes just the tiniest bit, bracing himself.

He knows her too well.

“You hear that?” she asks him, tone light and filled with amusement, “We’re best friends!”

“We are not,” Kaz tenses his jaw as he replies. He backs away from her, as if creating physical space between them will somehow stop the words from leaving her mouth and making their way towards him. As if distance could make her less of an bother.

(Y/N) fake gasps, clutching the skin over her heart in the most dramatic manner, “You wound me deeply, Kazzy.”

Jesper snorts, coughing to try to drown the laughter. She might be the only one who doesn’t get a knife to the jugular when calling him that.

Kaz’s eyes snap toward the Sharpshooter and the look must be deadly because Jesper quiets down immediately and tries his best to evade the boss’s glare. Kaz’s gaze then shifts towards (Y/N) and she perks up at the way his eyes harden even further in annoyance. He’s told her a million times to drop that ‘ridiculously stupid’ nickname and she’s decided she never will, not when it drives him to this point of exasperation.

(She’s a thrill chaser, you see. That’s what happens when you’ve seen just about everything and lived twice as much; few things get your heart pumping. And getting on Kaz’s nerves? That’s always exciting. (Y/N) never knows what to expect of him. The Bastard of the Barrel is unpredictable in a way that’s just delightful.)

“If you call me that one more time—”

“What are you gonna do? You can’t possibly try to hurt me. Best friends don’t do that to each other,” she mocks.

His eyebrow twitches, her grin stretches.

Oh, she’s going to have a field day with this one.

It’s obvious that Kaz knows he’s not winning this discussion because he walks forward, snatches the revised contracts and makes his way back to where he came from.

“Get those done before tomorrow afternoon.”

Boring. She was expecting more banter.

(Y/N) turns around to watch him leave, unable to stop herself from throwing a sarcastic, “Sure thing, bestie.” She does her best to sweeten the last word in a way that she knows will infuriate Kaz.

He freezes.

Bingo.

Even from afar, (Y/N) can see the way he tightens the grip on his cane. She’s thoroughly disappointed when he doesn’t throw a dagger her way. That would’ve been exciting. He takes another route, one she should’ve seen coming.

“I’ve got seven more files that need to be corrected. Collect them when you’re done with those.”

The corner of her lips tugs upwards slightly. There’s something thrilling about playing this game with Kaz, of seeing how much one of them can push before the other yields. He’s skilled and she enjoys the competition.

She ignores his order, “Goodnight, Kazzy.”

He slams the door on his way out, the only visible sign that she managed to get on his nerves. That’s mildly entertaining. Causing even the slightest slip of Kaz’s control over his temper is a success in her books.

“You’re out of your mind,” Jesper informs her.

She raises her glass of whisky at him and winks.

And that’s how it begins, as a joke. (Y/N) refers to Kaz as her best friend on every given chance. His reactions never disappoint.

There’s a lot of death threats;

(“Don’t mind him, bestie here is always grumpy.”

Clenched jaw, an exasperated sigh. “I will murder you.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Kazzy.”

There’s a knife thrown her way. (Y/N) catches it with ease, whistling good-naturedly. She smirks when she catches the look of annoyance in Kaz’s face.)

and a lot of not so kind words thrown her way.

(“I get special best friend privileges, right?”

“You get tolerated,” Kaz mutters, “barely.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Now tell me you love me.”

There’s that Brekker glare, one that would send anyone to an early grave. (Y/N) just smiles sweetly.

“Get out.”

“Whatever makes you happy, best friend.”

She cackles as she closes the door behind her, the curses Kaz is sending her way loud enough for her to hear.)

All in all, (Y/N) is as happy as can be. Having the time of her life, really. It’s not often that she finds something that makes Kaz fume. He plays the game too, of course. He has her going over financial documents and legal contracts on her free time, knowing just how much she hates the bureaucracy, and he gives her the household chores she despises the most. Still, (Y/N) doesn’t complain. She does everything with a smug smile on her face. The annoyance that flashes through Kaz’s face makes it all worth it.

The bracelet isn’t something she plans for, it really isn’t, but the Saints place the opportunity right in front of her and who is she but a mere mortal that must obey the signs evidently laid by otherworldly deities (or whatever bullshit those religious fanatics preach).

(Y/N) inspects the wristlets in her hand. They’re black and rough, made of broken-down nets that fishermen dispose of near the pier when the material has worn down beyond repair and is no longer useful. The little girl who had sold it to her couldn’t have been older than seven, and yet the design was more than decent. (Y/N) had offered three kruge for it, much more than it was worth. The child had looked delighted, had thanked her profusely as she’d placed the coins inside her worn-down shoes.

Oh, (Y/N) cannot wait to see Kaz’s face.

“What’s that?” Jesper asks as she meets up with him, eying the bracelets with a gleam of interest. He twirls his guns absentmindedly, missing the way some of the fishermen glance at him with distrust.

“Oh, you know, just some matching bracelets for me and my best friend.”

Jesper snickers, shaking his head and proceeding to let out a low whistle.

“This might be his breaking point.”

“Wouldn’t that be delightful.”

“You’re insane, Marbles.”

She gives him a wicked smile accompanied by a wink. She’s about to retort when she catches sight of a shadow on the corner of her eye. She recognizes it immediately as her target. Shopping, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the reason she and Jesper were waiting by the pier. They’ve got orders. She has people to torture and interrogate and dispose of— preferably in a quiet manner —and Jesper is Kaz’s way of making sure she’s got her back covered. (Not that she needs backup, but whatever, she has tried arguing with Kaz about it and it’s the one thing he won’t relent on, the one matter she’s accepted she won't ever win. Kaz doesn't play when it comes to her safety.).

“If you’re kind enough to hold these for me,” she places the bracelets on Jesper’s unoccupied hand, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

They make it back to the Slat before sunrise. (Y/N) had been quick and efficient, as she always was, and Jesper had been a quiet and solid shadow, as he always was.

“I assume it all went according to plan,” the Bastard asks when he hears their steps coming into his office. It’s late, or rather extremely early in the morning, and yet (Y/N) isn’t surprised by Kaz’s presence. He rarely sleeps.

“It went without a hitch, boss,” Jesper responds, resting against the doorframe.

(Y/N) hesitates for a split second, her memory providing a brief flashback to the interrogation she’d done, to three little words the man had let slip out: they’re coming for you.

A warning or maybe a promise.

Thrilling, either way. It wasn’t often that she was verbally threatened.

At the time, she’d dismissed the words, too filled with bloodlust to pay them any mind, but now, with a clear mind and a steady heartbeat, she suddenly remembers her face plastered on paper all over Ketterdam and wonders if the words might be related to the bounty on her head.

Oh, she hopes so. That would prove to be fun.

They’re coming for you. Good. Let them try.

She nods her head in agreement with Jesper’s words. Kaz nods in approval and then jerks his chin Jesper’s way, a clear sign of dismissal. The Sharpshooter never walks into Kaz’s office after missions like this. He’s an escort, a babysitter of sorts, merely Kaz’s way of making sure she heads his way instead of making a beeline for her bed.

(Y/N) sticks her tongue out at him and Jesper blows her a kiss in response.

Lucky bastard. It’s always her that has to stay up to report. And she hates to admit it, but she’s tired, she can feel the exhaustion begin to creep on her bones and settle in. She has been up for more than thirty-seven hours at this point, and she can feel it catching up to her. Still, she knows that Kaz prefers to hear details when the information is fresh on her mind, when she can provide as much detail as possible, so she pushes through for him. She just has to wait a little while longer before crawling into her bed and passing out for the next twelve hours.

“Marbles comes bearing gifts by the way,” is the last thing the Sharpshooters says before exiting.

A smirk takes over her features, sleep, exhaustion and the new information briefly forgotten.

Kaz is going to hate it.

Lovely.

Kaz seems to sense, probably by the wicked amusement on her face, that whatever it is it’s not something he’s going to enjoy. His face twists into a scowl.

“Out with it, then.”

She pulls out the dark bracelet from her pocket as she walks towards Kaz, dangling it in front of his face when she’s close enough.

Jesper had handed them back on the way home, tossing them over as soon as she’d wiped the blood off her hands. He hadn’t said a word, but (Y/N) knew that the action had meant to snap her out of the weird haze that clouded her mind after every mission, where adrenaline still coursed through her body and all she could think about was bloodshed, fingers itching to kill and maim and fight.

(It was a thing, the haze. When taking lives there was nothing but calmness and bloodthirst, the restlessness that always lingered beneath her skin subsiding as soon as a weapon was placed in her hand and orders were given. And as soon as the mission was done, as soon as the target was neutralized and she’d efficiently fulfilled her orders, fogginess followed. Her mind became clouded, as if somewhat trapped in a loop of violence, every nerve on edge and ready for any threat to emerge.

She was brought up as a killing machine, a child soldier, the best out of all the assassins produced by the Silent Blades, her father’s pride. She was ruthless, wretched, or at least those had been the words used to describe her when she’d been a child. She supposed the dissociative state she slipped into was normal when considering her upbringing, some sort of psychological shield that kept her from going insane.

She never spoke about it, but the Crows somehow knew. They often eased her out of it, knowing full well that when trapped in that state she had not an ounce of thought and only muscle memory to rely on, which made her infinitely more lethal.)

Jesper’s actions had worked like a charm. With something else to do with her hands, the fogginess had ruptured. She’d absentmindedly tied one of the bracelets on her own wrist, fingers playing with the edges of the other.

It’s that bracelet, the one on her arm, that Kaz glances at now. It’s brief, but for a split second the scowl etched on his face softens and something that she can’t quite catch passes through his eyes. It’s gone before (Y/N) can even begin to process it.

“Best friends have to have matching bracelets, don’t they?” And if she wonders about it later, she’ll blame it on the exhaustion, but the words come out softer than she intends them to. A jest, but not any less truthful.

Kaz’s face morphs and she gets a fleeting glimpse at that flicker in his eyes again. His scowl melts into something a tad bit gentler, the look contrasted by the aggressiveness with which he snatches the bracelet from her hand, “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He means that and his tone has enough bite to make her cackle.

Amusing.

Placing her hands on her back pockets and shrugging, she responds, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kaz snorts, “Go take a bath.” He dismisses her, turning around and making his way to his desk, “Reports can wait until you don’t look half dead.”

That’s unexpected.

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows, “You’re being nice.” It isn’t often that Kaz forgoes a report after a mission. He might’ve been more touched by the gift than he’s letting on.

“It’s for my own sake,” he retorts, not turning around, “you just stink and it’s making me nauseous.”

She does have a lingering smell of blood and sea water.

“Everything in this damned place stinks,” she responds. I know you’re lying, she’s saying, I know you’re being kind.

“Get out.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” (Y/N) mocks, walking out of his office.

She sleeps a full day after that, everyone knowing better than to bother her unless they want to lose to their head, and when she reports to Kaz the next morning the three words she’d heard from the man slip her mind. (Y/N) doesn’t remember them until a few weeks later when she’s tied to the ceiling by her wrists, face bleeding.

Now, she must admit, she’s impressed. No one had ever tried kidnapping before. There’d been more attempts on her life than she could even count; stabs resulting in blood being shed, never one drop of hers, poison that she had either swallowed down like a champ or identified before a single lick of it touched her tongue, because being raised an assassin meant she’d been trained in the art of toxins and she’d built up tolerance to pretty much every substance in existence, and that one time they’d tried to shot at her, which only resulted in (Y/N) stealing Jesper’s gun and placing a bullet right between the perpetrator’s eyebrows. All in good fun. Kidnapping was new, but only because those who had attempted on her life had never tried joining forces, all of them wishing to keep the financial reward for themselves.

Torturing, that was new, too.

She could endure, of course she could, she’d been trained for this. That did not mean she’d missed it.

The poster had stated she was wanted dead or alive and it was clear that the man in front of her wanted to take his time. It was personal, she could tell by the brunt of his hits and the delicate precision of his cuts. Had she been anyone else, she would’ve been begging for it to stop, but (Y/N) was a Silent Blade, even if she’d left the organization and that life behind, and she would never break.

The only reason she was in this situation was because the assailants had gotten the upper hand. They’d used one of (Y/N)’s street urchins— a little girl with piggy tails and two missing teeth, one of the ones who gathered information for (Y/N) and traded it for food and shelter —as leverage. And time had apparently made her soft because she’d hesitated. The brief second of doubt had been everything they’d needed.

Them subduing her didn’t mean she’d gone down without a fight. There’d been five of them in the beginning. Only three remained. She’d plucked one guy’s eye out, going deep enough to sever the optic nerve and cause brain damage, and she’d ripped the other’s ear with her teeth before slitting his throat. She’d managed to stab one of the three men remaining with a dagger before being injected with some unknown serum. It hadn’t knocked her out, not the way it was supposed to if the incredulous look on her kidnapper’s face was any indication, but it had drugged her enough to allow them to overpower her.

And now here she was, slowly bleeding out.

“I intent on handing your corpse to them and claiming the reward.” He’s been quiet for so long that (Y/N) had almost forgotten his presence. She doesn’t raise her head, only looks up. It’s hard to do so when her right eye is swollen shut. “But they never specified the conditions it had to be in.”

The man has his back towards her, fingers running through a box of tools. He’s used almost all of them on her by this point. Amateur. A skilled torturer knows to go slow, to drag it out, to choose a weapon and stick to it until the person is weeping and screaming.

“It was my brother that you killed.”

That sparks her interest, a smirk taking over her bloodied lips. She looks at him, dead in the eye.

“Which one?” she taunts.

The sound of her voice, still strong despite the blood loss, startles him. He freezes for a split second, hand over a wooden baseball bat.

“What?”

She snickers, blood dripping into the floor. “I’ve killed a lot of men, darling.” The way he seethes, fury filling his features, amuses her. “So which one was your brother?”

“You had him swallow his own testicles.”

“Oh, him,” she nods her head in appreciation. “Can’t say I regret it.”

Now he’s fuming, hand shaking so badly he almost loses the grip on the bat. If (Y/N) looks close enough she can see the resemblance. Same brown hair, same nose, same crazy look in their eyes.

“I’ll make you regret it.”

“You can certainly try,” she concedes mockingly. Because, honestly, there’s nothing he can do to her that she hasn’t already withstood.

There’s a raging roar and then a burst of pain. A hit to her abdomen, which no doubt bruised a rib, and then two to her back. But it’s okay, she thinks to herself as she wheezes and coughs, trying to regain air in her lungs, she knows how to play this game and how to win it. Keep him talking, keep him angry, let him think he has the upper hand, keep him from noticing how she’s preparing to break free.

“I wonder…” he murmurs, bat dragging behind him. “You’re not particularly remarkable.” She scoffs as he begins circling her, a tactic supposed to drive the prisoner into panic at the lack of vision of their assailant. Her heart doesn’t stutter. She’s trained to identify people and objects by sound not sight. She knows precisely where he is, even if she can’t see him. “So, what makes you interesting enough for the Bastard to keep so close?”

She grins, feral and with bloodstained teeth.

“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”

His face does not change but his step falters. “You cannot believe me stupid enough to fall for that.”

“You were stupid enough to tie my wrists with handcuffs,” is all she replies before dislocating her own thumbs and releasing herself from the shackles.

She hits the floor hard, body swaying for a second. Her hands are numb, nerve endings frayed. It hits her, now that she has to keep herself outfight, just how much blood she’s lost. The edges of her vision blur.

There’s a cut on her thigh, it bleeds heavily. Her back is all flayed skin. Breathing is hard.

It doesn’t matter. She only needs four fingers and half a mind to hold and use a dagger. She shakes the dizziness off.

He comes at her, but she’s expecting that. Sidestepping him is easy, kicking him in the back as he passes by even more so.

“You’re not much without your friends and a syringe full of drugs, are you?” she stumbles a little as she taunts him. Time is not on her side, she knows this. He’s cut deep in her arms and legs, no major artery touched, but with precision to give her a slow and prolonged death. She’s been steadily bleeding for hours.

(Y/N) has to end this. Soon.

He comes for her again, and she dodges, punching him right in the gut. He feigns left and she moves away, noticing too late the fist that impacts with the right side of her face. Despite the pain, she manages to stomp his toes and slam her knee against his balls.

That does it.

A high whimper leaves his mouth and as he struggles for air, she backs up. Keeping her eyes on him, her right arm reaches back to the toolbox. She knows what she’s grasped as soon as her fingers graze it.

“Say hi to your brother for me.”

The scalpel lodges itself right on his carotid artery.

“Nice,” she mumbles in delirium as she hears him choke to death. It’d been a majestic throw.

The adrenaline is gone in a second. (Y/N) stumbles backwards, barely aware of all the tools scattering around in the floor. She lets herself rest against the wall, slowly sitting down on the floor.

She’s going to die.

It doesn’t matter that she’s managed to get rid of that poor excuse of a man. She’s too injured. She knows.

(Y/N) isn’t scared. She’s tangled with Death for a long time, and as cold begins to creep in and the edges of her vision blacken, it feels like welcoming an old friend. It feels like getting what she has always had coming for her.

The tips of her fingers begin to tingle, her body’s desperate effort at keeping her heart pumping. Her ears are ringing, hard enough that when shouts begin all that she can hear are muffled sounds.

Then someone’s touching her face. She greets the warmth.

“Fuck,” she hears as she tumbles forward, her forehead landing on a collarbone. Jesper grasps the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. At least, she thinks it’s him. Her brain feels mushy, but her nose has never failed her, and it smells like gunpowder and mint.

She’s laid down on the ground gently, probably to inspect her injuries before moving her.

“You’re going to be okay,” the Sharpshooter reassures her, but his voice is trembling. He’s scared. She must look worse than she feels, and she feels like she’s been attacked by a group of Heartrenders.

She wants to speak, to tell him it’s okay, but opening her mouth feels like an impossible task.

“Save your energy.” That’s Kaz. His voice is steady, but she can feel the underlying tension, the worry in his words. “You are not dying tonight.” And he says it with so much conviction, like he would hold her soul with his own hands to keep it anchored to her body, like he would keep her heart beating with pure willpower.

Her eyes look for him, but she catches sight of something else entirely.

“You’re wearing it.”

She must make no sense, words slurred, but Kaz understands. His whispered words are the last thing she hears before slipping out of consciousness.

“How couldn’t I?”

Then there’s nothing. She loses track of time. She comes back to her body from time to time, able to hear words but incapable of pinpointing the speaker. She’s floating, but there’s pain and aching.

“…too much blood, I don’t know…”

“…keep her alive.”

“I am trying!”

“Don’t try, do it.”

“…punctured lung, broken ribs…”

“…don’t know how she’s still alive.”

When she comes to the first thing that she feels is blinding pain. Everything hurts. Her muscles complain as she sits up. She clenches her jaw to keep the tears at bay. The worst is already over, she will not cry.

“Don’t move,” (Y/N) freezes at the command, her head snapping towards the voice. “Nina stitched you back together, I doubt she would be very happy to see all her hard work ruined.”

She gently eases herself back on the bed, fingertips running over her bandaged stomach. She can feel the edges of the stitches poking through it. It must’ve been bad, then, if she required stitches to keep the wound together. Usually, she’s a fast healer, a result of all the training she’d gone through.

“How long?” Her voice is raspy after not being used. Her throat hurts, which might be related to the way she was choked to the verge of unconsciousness several times while held hostage.

“Four nights.”

Bad then.

(Y/N) can feel Kaz’s eyes on her, assessing. She meets his stare, and it’s when she’s looking at him that a vague memory comes back.

Her eyes drift down to his wrist.

The twin bracelet to her own, the one she keeps tightly wrapped around her wrist, as if part of her own skin, greets her.

“You are wearing it.”

Kaz frowns in confusion, until he follows her line of sight. He looks away, hand clenching and unclenching over the head of his cane.

“Even after almost dying you’re still insufferable,” he responds.

But when he looks back at her, (Y/N) can see everything in his eyes.

How could I not, he’d said, and he’d meant it. If friendship was something that could bloom in a wretched place like Ketterdam, Kaz was her best friend and she was his, even if they’d never discussed it, even if they would never admit it. You’re the steady order to my unrelenting chaos, she thought to herself, someone I would follow to the end of the world.

He nods, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her.

“Rest.” That’s an order, one she has no intention of disobeying.

“Sure thing,” she responds as Kaz makes his way towards the door, “bestie.”

(Y/N) can feel the amusement in his words, “Absolutely insufferable.”

She smirks, toying with the ends of the bracelet’s strings.

(Y/N) never takes it off. Neither does Kaz.

[crushmeeren]

ᝰ ITACHI WHO’S NEVER HAD HIS DICK SUCKED .ᐟ

༝ ᭝ ༝ inspired by this post by katsukikitten. ༝ ᭝ ༝

master list link ༝ ᭝ ༝ @pixelcafe-network

“Soo… let me get this straight. You’ve had sex, before, right Itachi?”

Itachi purses his lips. “I have, yes.”

You blink a few times, shaking your head in disbelief as you shift to sit cross legged on his bed. “But you’ve never had your dick sucked?” You ask incredulously.

Itachi averts his gaze, cheeks flushing rosy pink. He clears his throat softly. “No, I haven’t. I’ve always been curious though,” he admits. Itachi’s eyes flicker back to yours, shy but sweet, and he drapes the end of his low pony tail over his shoulder to twist the end around his finger nervously.

“You’ve had some shitty partners,” you state matter of factly.

Itachi hums. “Yes, none of them were very satisfying, apparently.”

There’s not a chance in hell you aren’t blowing him now.

Determined, you rock forward onto your hands and knees, crawling across the soft sheets of the bed, and pause to rest your hands on his bare knees, leaning in close. “If you want, I can show you what it’s like,” you murmur, watching Itachi’s lids flutter briefly.

The air between you shifts into something sticky and warm.

“Yeah,” Itachi breathes, voice low and husky. “I’d really like that.”

You easily coax Itachi into sitting on the edge of the bed. He rests his feet on the floor while you sit on your knees between his thighs. Itachi slips his shirt off and you hook your fingers into his shorts and briefs, freeing him of the remaining clothing.

He’s already hot and full, slick at the tip without being touched. He places his hands behind himself to support his weight, cock gently bobbing and smacking against his lower belly as he shifts around. You teasingly run your finger down his shaft, and your stomach warms rich and honeyed when his cock jumps, a shiver wracking through him.

“It’s really unfair how hot you are,” you say with a sigh, switching gears and smoothing your hands up his soft inner thighs. The muscles flex under your touch, and you glance up to see his lips part slightly.

“You look gorgeous,” he says breathlessly, the heat from his awestruck stare reducing you to ash.

You don’t waste another second, pressing the flat of your tongue to the taught skin between his balls and drag it up, up, up his shaft and flick the tip just beneath his crown. He tastes a little salty, the vague after scent of his body wash flooding your nose.

Itachi’s breath hitches audibly, the next exhale coming out as a throaty moan, and suddenly there’s a hand desperately palming the back of your skull.

“Oh my god,” he whines, fisting the sheets with his free hand until they bunch up. “Your tongue feels incredible. I may not last long, love.”

You smile to yourself, taking his warning as a challenge, and circle your fingers around the base of his shaft. You tilt him towards your mouth and push the head between the purse of your lips. Your eyes drift shut as you slowly sink down, not relenting until your mouth brushes your knuckles. You hollow your cheeks and suck harshly, dragging your lips upwards, and let your tongue glide along the underside.

Itachi’s moan is absolutely broken. High pitched and whiny as his hips jerk involuntarily, searching for more. You press one hand harshly to his thigh to send a message that he needs to stay still.

You repeat the movement, bobbing your head once, twice, three times before Itachi’s frantically calling your name, trying to pull you off by the hair while his cock twitches rhythmically.

You free him with a slick pop, blinking open your eyes as you place a kiss to his tip and look up at him in question. Itachi’s eyes roll back and his mouth drops open as he gasps.

Your head jerks back in surprise when warm ribbons of his cum land on your cheek. Decorating your lips and chin, dripping down on to the hand still holding the base of him.

Itachi’s cheeks turn scarlet when he catches his breath, expression downright mortified. You stare up at him in shock before you break into a smile, unable to stop your amused laughter. Itachi covers his mouth as he can’t help but join you, the sound contagious.

“Feel good baby?” You tease, searching for Itachi’s discarded shirt. He picks it up off the bed and swiftly hands it to you so you can wipe your face.

He nods with a soft smile. “Better than I could have ever imagined.” He pauses, worrying at his lower lip. “Do you think we could do that again?” He asks, eyes hopeful.

Affection swells in your chest and you exhale sharply through your nose, lips curling up at the corners. “I’ll blow you as many times as you want Itachi.”