#and fuck every fibre of my being for not knowing how to lie

[nyxnco]

i knew that was a bad idea

[rreskk]

Dear ol' Trev

I'm experimenting with heavier topics, like smut. So if you're sensitive to the subject of "BDSM", don't read! I'll be answering requests soon enough, thank you for being patient :)

Summary: Trevor was untamed and aggressive. There was only one way to force him out of that toxic mentality.

TW: -heavy smut (BDSM) -Violence (Death threats)

Pairings: Dom!Fem reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 2971

For the past three days, he has been unrightfully slaughtering every flaw he deceives, and the judgement has been clashed onto you. So for the past three days, you’ve been verbally insulted with every fibre of his body. Reason complied? Unknown. You haven’t recalled doing anything wrong, or anything to cause this spike of anger. Alas, you have been nothing but idle for the past days. He hasn’t made the effort to conversate, fuck, treat you with dignity. Ever since he came home from Los Santos, he’s been ugly and obscene.

You’ve tried to argue against this sudden aggression, challenging his authority, and it would get physical. Right now, he was more than physical. You had lost your temper and called him every name under the sun and he was provoked beyond belief. His face was red, eyes filled with angry tears, fists clenched as his nails would pierce the skin underneath. Trevor stood an arms-length away from you, his eyes burning daggers into yours.

“Say that again.” His voice hoarsely demanded.

“You heard me.”

“You little shit.” Trevor croaked, his vexation becoming hostile.

You raised an eyebrow, “What’s the problem? I don’t see a lie.”

His lips twitched into a snarl and he grabbed the collar of your shirt, threatening to toy you around. His neck and arm veins were pulsing. You wondered if he strained anymore, they may burst.

“Keep your mouth shut. You’re pissing me off, big time.”

“You’ve been pissing me off for the last 72 hours.”

“You don’t say?” He cruelly hissed, “And you repay that by insulting me, [y/n]? You think it’s funny abusing dear ol’ Trev?”

“Cut that creepy shit out. You’re disgusting – “

“Ohhh… Complaints, complaints, complaints. You always FUCKING complain.”

“Maybe you should take the fucking hint and MAN UP!” You shouted in his face, “The moment your revolting scent arrived at my door after a week of no calls or texts, you had the audacity to operate and belittle me? Like what? I was some slave? Oh yeah, what a lovely man dear ol’ Trev is. What a lovely cunt!”

“THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?”

“Just get out, seriously – “

Trevor pushed you back violently as he threw his arm over the dining table, all the plates and clutter falling onto the floor with a big crash. You glared at him after finding your balance.  He maintained that deep scowl, eyes not leaving yours as it went silence, only the background noise of glass crunching under his work boots.

“How fucking dare you.” You heaved, the energy you have left slowly running out.

“You gonna complain again, sugar?” Trevor tongued as you saw the strands of his saliva spit with vemon.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“I know you,” He continued, “You wouldn’t last a week without me.”

“Me? Really? Please! That’s utter bullshit.”

“Yeah… Really.” At this point, Trevor was breathing down on you, his arms locking you against the wall behind. He began to smirk at how trapped you were. He enjoyed seeing you covered in his shadow with that nasty look in your eye.

You tried to lean away, despite his nudges. His hands began leaving achy bruises on your wrists, them cruel fingers spreading his disease while you avoided the discourse of his intoxicating breath. It smelt like death. Your throat numbed at the inhale of his mucky scent, and before you knew it, he lowered his head and began to combatively whisper slander in your ear.

“I ain’t leaving, prick. I am not leaving this place until it’s fuckin’. You hear me?” His hot breath antagonising your neck.

“Get off me, Trevor.”

“No, I think you like it.”

“You fucking pervert!”

His voice rumbled, “Mmm… Maybe I am. Maybe I’m just a burden, a pervert, a creep. Maybe I just wanna bash your fuckin’ head in? What do you think about that, baby? Sounds good?”

You striked his cheek suddenly, his frame falling back at the impact. Trevor held his cheek with a disturbed expression, his eyes wide. Your hand stung with succession as you gave him a gnarly grin.

“I think that’s a great idea, Trevor,” You said, approaching him, “Maybe I should bash your fucking head in,” Your left hand rapidly grasped his jaw before he could fight back, “And you’ll definitely enjoy it.”

“The fuck? –“ He whinged when you grabbed his neck and jaw.

“What’s the matter? It’s not nice being treated like a dog, isn’t it?” Your other hand jolted forwards, hitting his cheek again where a small cry of pain left his lips.

“Fuckin’ stop!”

“You are going to pick up every shard of glass on this very floor. If you don’t, I’m kicking your ass goodbye. You got that?” You shouted in his flushed face.

Trevor threw your hands off, a look of disgust painting his face. He studied you up and down, a sense of uncertainty behind those unstable eyes.

“You’re taking the shitting piss, [y/n]. I’m not doing that.” He mocked.

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Really?” You licked your teeth, “I think you are.”

He sent you a hefty glare, “The fuck are you playing?”

“You want to play?”

“What? – “

“Okay, Trevor. If you really wanna play.” Within a second, Trevor felt his trousers being torn off as he cried out in surprise. His hands automatically covered his bulge but you slapped them away, your fists threatening to interrogate his crotch.

“[y/n], fuck off!” He demanded, fighting against your hands.

“No, I think you like it.” You reflected his words from before, smirking.

“Stop! – “ His voice wobbled with vulnerability. He bellowed forwards and tried to pull his trousers up until his underwear was confiscated as well. Trevor gritted his teeth, seeing you enjoy the struggle he was going through when his cock was on display. He noticed you were grinning at his exposure, feeling fragile and insecure, “C’mon – this ain’t funny. Fuck off!”

“Awh…” You teased and allowed him to scatter, his trousers clumsily being buckled up again. He did not look happy. Trevor’s nostrils flared as he stared at you with raw fury.

“You think this is funny?” He shouted, “You’re a fuckin’ cunt!”

“Easy…”

“EASY? YOU TELLING ME TO BE EASY?”

“You always liked showing yourself off. What’s so bad about it now?” You questioned, smirking up at him.

Trevor stumbled backwards, his feet stomping on the shards of glass that he littered. One piece made a crunching sound from under his foot. He gazed up to see if you had noticed, biting his lip when you stared heavily; watching his every move like a vulture feasting on it’s future prey, the impulsive climax barely containing itself.

His lips snarled when you spoke again, “I heard it – you heard it.”

“I ain’t cleaning.” He responded, crossing his arms.

“Why not?”

“Because I ain’t. You can’t make me.”

“Oh, okay.” You hummed and dismissed the conversation, turning your back.

Trevor smirked when he thought you backed away from the argument. He uncrossed his arms and whistled, singing your name as he placed his foot over a broken frame of you and him. Once he had gained your attention, Trevor licked his lips and pressed down, breaking the picture even more – clearing wanting a strong reaction, as he found it enjoyable.

You felt something stab your gut when he pathetically destroyed the only good picture of you both. And he smiled after it broke. It made you distressed, furious, hated. He stood there carefree, his belt still loose from your stunt beforehand, making him look like a golden stud. A golden stud you wanted to hammer.

“Whoops.” He winked, rotating away from the living room before a hard-hitting hand clenched his shoulder, launching him backwards and onto the rumble of glass. Trevor cried out, his skin scratched and prickled by the mess he made.

You stood over him and stared down; no sign of pleasure nor happiness. He cursed your name as he tried to stand up from the pile of shards but your foot sent him flying down again. It crushed his lower stomach, his breathing becoming unhinged and erratic. Extending weight onto your foot, his hands wrapped around your ankle, begging for you to get off.

“Fuckin’ get off!” He pled repeatedly.

Of course, it didn’t convince you. Your foot dug into his torso until he was threatening to lose his ability to breathe. Waiting for the moment Trevor’s eyes would portray the seconds left of his near-death experience, you released the pressure, and he frantically crawled to his knees, wailing for some air. He mercilessly wailed, believing he was on the road to death by your strangulation.

“Why are you crying?” You degraded, grabbing his hair and forcing his knees to kneel against the glassy carpet.

Trevor panted. His head being forced to look up, staring directly towards your thighs. He didn’t say anything but whined when you’d occasionally tug his hair, trying to pressure some rise out of him.

“C’mon… You’re feeling shameful now, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, still being stubborn.

“You like being on your hands and knees, Trevor?”

He whined again.

“Why don’t you get the fuck up?” You smirked.

“I hate you,” He finally mewled, “I’ll kill you!”

“Get the fuck up then.”

Trevor struggled, trying to use his weak arms but you only pushed him back down with a laugh.

“[y/n]!” He snapped.

“What?”

Your fingers tickled his scalp, falling down his back, reaching the hem of his trousers as he remained on his all fours, having a hard time keeping balance due to the amount of scratches and impaled glass in his skin. Nonetheless, your fingers tickled him. Trevor felt his trousers being pulled down again, and he dropped his head, whispering profound insults that definitely included the words “evil”, “witch”, and “bitch.” But you didn’t care. You waited until his ass was exposed and his cock dangling between his legs. He was shaky, unsure of what you’re about to do. He wanted to stand up, but your grip on him only tightened and his knees were too weak. Did he beg you to stop? No. So you only made it harder for him.

Very hard.

“Fuck… The fuck you doing to me?” Trevor murmured in pain.

“If you wanna ruin my home, you can be ruined with it.” You said before kicking your shoe against his exposed cock, making him jump and cry out in agony.

“FUCK!”

“You like that?” His whole arousal was being beaten with your shoe again, the repetitive kicks destructing Trevor’s last ounce of his aggression.

“FUCK – I HATE YOU! – “ He’d cry, tears oozing down his red cheeks as you kicked him from behind again.

“You deserve so much more hate,” You huffed – his cock and balls being left swollen and bruised, “I’m giving you the bare minimum of it. You should thank me, Trevor.”

It ended with his face crazing against the glass-scattered floor, his cheek embedding deep wounds as he wails from the pain of his genitals being physically abused. He attempted to cover his cock but you slapped his hands away, kicking him one last time before giving him a minor break.

He collapsed, body sprawled out.

The glass was ignored now. You stepped over him, your shadow overcasting the menacing danger of your touch. Trevor, with his eyes closed, felt the shade and spoke through his condition, his voice crackled and fable – like an emotional child begging for some hugs after a traumatic nightmare.

“I’m not thanking… I’m not! Not thanking – you! Kick me again, I fuckin’ dare you! I’m never – FUCK!” You obeyed his request and pressed the soul of your shore against his manhood, crushing until it went numb.

“You never give up, baby…”

He whimpered with is nose stuffed in the carpet floor.

“Wish you’d last this long in bed.” You ended.

Trevor’s head jerked up at the mention of you judging his struggle to hold. He gritted his teeth and aimed to spit, unsuccessfully watching the saliva reach barely half way as you just watched with a frown. A piece of clammy drool fell from his lips, dropping onto the floor, along with his tears.

“And what was that for, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sensitive topic?”

“FUCK YOU!”

You grabbed his waist and forced him to his knees again. Trevor tried to resist but fell into your hands, murmuring complaints about the pain. He winced, trying to face you. But yet again, he failed. And he was beyond angered at his power being taken away.

“This is not FUCKIN’ funny, baby,” He whinged, “I hate you so much sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You grinned.

“Mm, shut the fuck up…”

“C’mon. Admit it.”

“I said; shut the fuck up!”

“Fucking man up, Trevor. You’re on the floor with your cock fucked and your knees asleep – what are you gonna do? Encourage me to enjoy this more?” You caressed the back of his neck.

“Keep on going…” He whispered, almost quiet enough for you to miss.

“Sorry?”

“Keep going.”

A small smirk twitched and you crouched down, Trevor hesitantly putting his chin on your knee as he looked at you with an angry but lustful stare. He tried to lean closer, wanting a kiss, but he was refused and grunted when you dropped his head onto the floor again. He hit the floor and cursed your name menacingly.

“Fuck you, baby! I want you!”

“You wanted this, Trev?”

“Shut the fuck up and kill me already! Just end my life, make me cry!” He protested with desperation.

“You’re gonna be a man and last long for me?”

He nodded his head, “I wanna last long for you.”

“And you’re going to apologise? – “

“[y/n]! Please, just help me already!” Trevor complained and returned to his knees and hands, his dick burning red.

You laughed and shook your head with a small grin. Now that he was vulnerable and eager for your touch, it made it easier to gain a reaction. Your knee pressed against his backside and you forced him up, his back grinding against your thigh. Trevor closed his eyes as he felt your arms wrap around him, the skin-contact trailing from his stomach, closer to his arousal. He twitched with excitement, his hair mangled and skin tattered with oozing blood.

“So good for me, baby.” You praised and hugged his cock with your cold hands, massaging the tip and roughly mishandling the length to ensure your power is still prominent.

His whole body shook at your touch and he groaned when you demanded him to keep his hands away. It took some courage to follow your authorities, but it was worth it when you began stroking him, caressing his sore skin.

“Yes…” Trevor breathed, “Yes… Yes, that’s right.”

“You wanna be rubbed like the pervert that you are?”

“I’m a fuckin’… God! Yes!”

“Tell me how bad you want it, Trevor.”

He struggled to speak, “I – I… Oh, fuck… M’yeah. C’mon… Fuckin’ faster! Now! – “ Then he paused, dread clogging his throat when you clenched his cock.

“You want to continue being a little fucker?” You hissed in his ear.

“No… No, ma,” Trevor felt it get tighter as he whimpered, “I’m your fucker… I’m your pervert, God!”

“Say my name.”

“[y/n]…”

“Prefer me being in charge, baby?” You giggled, not used to seeing him so submissive.

“I love being treated like a rape toy, mommy!” And he had lost the plot, so emerged in his attraction.

You rubbed him harder and faster, your lips pressing down his neck as he was moaning frantically. From the way he was so stiff and hot, it was clear he had been holding a semi for a long, long time. It made you smirk. Trevor was so pathetic. He made it harder for himself – just so he could feel some pleasure in the end.

“I’m gonna cum – “

“What did I say?” Your lips moved against his skin.

“I – “ Trevor rolled his eyes back and dramatically growled, his hips jerking and cock twitching.

“Don’t cum yet.”

He panted, “Fuck you… Fuck you… Fuck you, I love you!”

“Easy. Concentrate on me, baby.”

“All for you, ma. All for you!”

“You’re so hard, sugar.” You held his body weight so he was forced to deal with you edging him. Even though he was erratic and fierce, you managed to keep him in check and he remained huddled in your arms, his cock being molested by your hands.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” He sobbed.

“You’re such a slut, Trevor.”

“Ohhh… Fuuuck!” His words mingled for so long that it would crack. Then it went silent before his body spazzed, his dick delivering a huge load of cum that squirted onto the floor that was stained with damp tears, blood, glass.

He had silently cried through the orgasm. You looked at Trevor, his face scrunched and tongue hanging out like a dog. You had overstimulated him too much that climaxing had become a huge revolution, almost as though he transported through time.

“All good, baby?” You asked.

It took a few seconds before he nodded.

“You sore?”

He nodded again, chest heaving in and out.

“Good boy…” You kissed his cheek.

“You’re killing me,” Trevor airily slurred, “You almost killed me.”

“I know.”

“Fuck… Fuck! Fuck you… That was so hot…”

“You gonna clean up now?”

“[y/n]!” He whined tiredly, “You punished me enough, baby…”

You’d smirk, “Fine. You’ve proven how much of a baby you are. I wouldn’t want to cross the line and over exhaust you.”

“Fuck you.”

“And stop insulting me. Who’s house are you in?”

“…Yours.”

“So treat this place with respect, and me.” You warned.

Trevor gave you a playful glare before nodding, “Fuckin’ fine…”

“Now stand up. You reek.”

[loversj0y]

hi hi hi for the event: gold rush!!!!!

also congrats!!! 200 is a fucking insane amount and im so proud of you!! love ur content man!!!!!! :3

gold rush

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tw: they go to a bar, slight angst? just in the sense of unrequited pining (or perhaps... requited?) some self deprication

notes: fun fact! this song will be utilized again on my blog because it is the main song inspiration for part four of my tis the damn season au. bc of that, i had to come at this with a bit of a different angle creatively which was pretty fun ngl

word count: 1.2k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

You had a problem. You hated Wilbur Soot. 

You knew him well, you two have been friends for a while after meeting at a mutual friend’s party. At first glance, you knew you hated him. With every fibre of your being you hated him. 

You hated him for one specific reason. You wanted him more than anything. He was gorgeous, tall and always looking like the sun chose only him to shine on. He had these soft brown locks of hair that always seemed to curl just the right way, even when he wasn’t trying. He’d come in with a beanie with the curls just peeking out, but once he’d pull the beanie off, they’d immediately settle in a beautiful pattern, waves of brown deserving of attention. 

And his eyes. You couldn’t fathom looking into him in fear that you’d be completely swept into them, lost in his gaze forever. His eyes were like pools of pure bronze, and you could feel yourself melting into them. Every time you looked into them it was like you could imagine an entire life and future with him by your side, living together and sneaking around in love.

But you also had to cope with the idea that it wasn’t real.

The worst part about it was when you knew you’d be seeing him. Your friend groups had a major overlap, so any gathering you knew you would be seeing him. Like tonight. You made yourself look a bit nicer, and you had to tell yourself it wasn’t because you’d be seeing Wilbur – even if you knew it was a lie. The bar would be dark, so there was almost no point to making sure you looked so nice. You felt the need to do it anyways. 

When you showed up, most of your friends were already there. Wilbur was too. He wore this brown button up, with the sleeves pulled up, and fuck he must know what he’s doing to you. He had to know. His arms were muscular from playing guitar, and they were an impressive sight. You had to force your eyes to move on as you approached. 

Everyone greeted you as you sat, smiling around at everyone as you lost yourself in the drone of the music and conversation. You refrained from looking over at Wilbur, too worried you’d lose yourself in your own staring. It was tough, though. He was like the sun in an otherwise dark bar, and he always seemed to catch your attention. You had to keep reminding yourself to look away, which made you pay less attention to the conversation your friends were having.

That ended up being a mistake, within minutes you realized that the majority of your friends were leaving, except for, of course, Wilbur. It was awkward, at least to you. He seemed perfectly content to sit there and look out at the people around him, just quietly observing. 

The observation fell final when it reached you, somewhat zoned out at you stared at him and pondered a future that could never be.

“You alright?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry,” you flushed slightly, looking away.

He chuckled, “it’s alright. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been good,” you spoke plainly, “You? How’s the band?”

“Good!” He perked up at the mention of the band, “We’ve been working on music and stuff, and it’s been going really well. If it weren’t so loud, I’d show you some, I have a bunch of voice memos on my phone.” He spoke so enthusiastically, and it made your heart hurt slightly. 

“Another time then,” you smiled softly, trying to be as polite despite the mixture of pining and anxiety in your chest. 

He nodded, “yeah, another time.” He went quiet, but it wasn’t for long. A girl approached from the bar, coming over and chatting him up. That was a big thing. Wilbur wasn’t just attractive to you, he was just attractive. Everyone wanted him. And although he was polite and always turned them down, for whatever reason, it still was a sight to see. He could have anyone he wanted, and the chances you could handle that thought, especially in a relationship, were not high. But it wouldn’t stop your fantasizing. 

Of his eyes, staring at you full of love instead of polite friendliness. Of running your hands through his soft hair and watching it fall back into place. Of making a place in his life, a t-shirt left behind in his room after you go home in the evening. Of walking in his room barefoot to join him in bed at night. Of going to dinner parties and having loving arguments. Of moving to a coastal town together to get away from the noise of city life.

But the fantasies would always fade. And part of you hated them. Because of the blush they left on your face and the way they would always keep you from being able to see him as just a friend. Because moments like this, a girl slowly running her hand down his arm, reminded you of just how unreal your fantasizing is, and how it could never be.

The girl left after what was clearly striking out, and Wilbur turned back towards the table, a faint blush left on his cheeks. It was such a beautiful sight, but you had to keep yourself from getting lost in the fantasies once more, lest you embarrass yourself for all of time to come. 

“Sorry,” Wilbur hummed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, happens often?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“You never say yes.” You noted simply.

He nodded, “Yeah. Just… nothing against them, but I have my eyes sort of set on someone, so it’s not really within my best interests to entertain one night stands at best.”

You chuckled, but you felt your heart sinking slightly, “I guess that makes sense.”

He nodded again, looking away almost shyly. 

The rest of the night was a lot smoother after your friends returned, making the conversation flow easily. By the end of the night, you were exhausted emotionally and socially. You were one of the first to leave, standing outside and waiting for your taxi. The door opened behind you, but you didn’t turn to see who it was. 

Wilbur came and stood next to you, fiddling with his hands, “So, uhm,” he started, “another time?”

You looked over at him, a bit confused, “What?”

“You said another time, inside. I was wondering… when you’d like that to be.”

You faltered a bit, somewhat unsure of what to say, “Uh, I’m free whenever, I guess.”

He smiled softly, “Well, I have a band rehearsal on Tuesday. Would you… want to come?”

You thought for a moment. You should turn it down, knowing how hard it would be on you. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. “Yeah. Sure. Text me the address?”

He nodded softly, face lit up, “Yeah! I will, absolutely. I’ll- uh- I’ll see you then.”

You smiled softly and nodded, “See you then.”

Your cab pulled up, and you watched as Wilbur headed back in. You got in the cab, a gentle smile on your face as you couldn’t help but have a flicker of hope in your chest for the future.

[chanshoesunite]

"Go harder for round two?"

Content info: YN and Chan have just fucked, but why not go harder for round two?

Word count: 1K

Warnings: dirty talk, the sex is a bit on the rougher side maybe idk

You lie there, on your stomach, basking in post-coital bliss. Chan and you have just had a very enjoyable tumble in the sheets; a playful little tussle during laundry folding turned less playful and more heated, and now here you are, naked, the late spring afternoon sun falling through the window, tickling your bare back.

Chan returns from discarding the condom and slips under the covers next to you. Immediately, his lips find your shoulder blades as he presses soft kisses to your skin. You giggle into the pillow, enjoying his gentle ministrations.

He continues to kiss you, his hand tenderly stroking your side, his touch light as a feather against your sensitive skin. You could doze off, and you almost do, because the rhythm of his strokes is so calming, and you have just had an orgasm, and the sun is so nice and warm…

Chan lets his hand slide across your arse and between your legs. You open your eyes in surprise as you feel him slide two fingers into your still-wet pussy. “Channie?” you ask, because you hadn’t expected this. The mood was sleepy, comfy, relaxed just a minute ago, and now, you wonder why you thought that – clearly, your cunt wants more, it delights in the way Chan is slowly fingering you.

He shifts his weight, and he is above you, his front pressed against your back, and now you feel it – he is hard. Very much so. You moan involuntarily, and he bites your neck. “I was thinking,” he rasps, his voice rough with want, “I feel like for round two, we can go a bit harder.”

“Go harder for round two?” you breathe, because that sounds overwhelming and incredible at the same time.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says as he grabs your hips and lifts them so he can push a pillow under them. “You just have to lie there and take it like a good girl.” He spreads your legs a bit wider, showing you exactly what he means – he’ll do all the work. “How does that sound?”

You glance back at him and smile. “Why are you not inside me already?”

His eyes darken, and an evil little smile curls up the corners of his mouth. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know my little slut was even more eager to be filled than I was to fuck her.”

You begin to say, “Well, clearly, you were wrong about that,” but you cannot finish because with one swift, hard stroke, he is inside you, and the smallest delicious soreness of having just been thoroughly fucked and doing it again so soon takes over your senses. Chan does not wait – you don’t need time for adjusting, you are wet and eager to be taken. And so he does – he pounds you like that’s all you’re good for, and you just lie there, feeling his thick length filling you over and over again, stretching you. Your eyes are screwed shut, your hands curled into the sheets; the angle is so good, the cushion helps him hit your sweet spot with almost every thrust. His hot breath and his grunts against your neck do the rest: Being silent is out of the question – it is the middle of the day, but you can’t help but moan, pant, scream, beg for him to move, to give you more, to fuck you harder. It’s too fucking good, you’re almost sobbing with this assault of pleasure, the way every fibre of your being is focused on your pussy being railed by Chan’s hard cock.

He then shifts his weight onto his one arm, freeing his one hand to put over your mouth. He doesn’t stop fucking you, though. “Shhh, baby,” he growls into your ear. “You’re being so loud, we’ll get kicked out of the building. Everyone can hear you, baby girl, everyone knows I’m fucking you so well. You like that, hm? You like giving me all the control, letting me use your tight little cunt for my pleasure. You like making me feel good, being my little slut. You’re so hot, baby. Come to think of it… I do want everyone to know who’s fucking you this good.” And he takes his hand off your mouth, and he redoubles his efforts, his thrusts become incredibly harder, making the bed squeak. You almost howl at the pleasurable assault and bury your head in the pillow, dead set on keeping quiet. Then –

“Oh no, you won’t.”

Chan is not having it, though; you feel yourself being pulled up onto your knees, your back against his front. He is still thrusting forcefully, but now his hands find your breast and clit, stimulating you even further, making your moans more keening and breathier. “If I want you to come on my cock screaming, you will,” he growls, biting your shoulder and pushing into you relentlessly.

You know it’ll soon be over for you, this is too much, and it only takes a few more well-placed rubs against your clit and you’re coming with a moan that is positively pornographic. Behind you, you can feel Chan shaking with the effort, but he’s a lost cause, too, coming as soon as he can feel you spasm around him. Grabbing your chin, he pulls you in for a messy, wet kiss that swallows most of his groans.

When you both still, he gently pulls out and lays you back down on the bed, once again discarding a used condom before pulling you against his chest. Slowly, both of you catch your breath. He softly kisses your temple. “Was that okay?”

You glance up at him – his dark curls are a sweaty mess, his pupils are dilated, his cheeks are flushed. He looks young and vulnerable and sexy like that, and you’ve never found him more attractive. “Very okay,” you say, kissing his collarbone, clearly underselling the exquisite sex you've just had. “But do I get to nap now?”

Chan chuckles. “You do, baby girl,” he allows, kissing your nose before settling with you under the covers, snuggling closer and closing his eyes.

[rulerzreachf4n7]

Search the anti tag for Lumity and Huntlow, you'll see most of the posts are from L*nter shippers, while the minority is from Willuz shippers. I swear, I hate L*nter with every fibre of my being, and obviously, many of its shippers are just as hateful. Not all of the shippers are like that but there are so many of them being problematic. They constantly hate on Amity and Willow for getting in the way of their ship by calling both of them boring, Amity being just Luz's gf, Willow being toxic to Hunter, etc. They say Lumity shippers being biphobia for hating their ship, and some still draw Luz cheating on Amity with Hunter, feeding to the harmful biphobia stereotype, how ironic. They would say Huntlow is a crackship that Dana adds in the last minute, but some would whine about L*nter is supposed to be canon because of a drawing of Luz kissing an unknown prince in Sense and Insensitivity. Some shippers are disgusting proshippers because they also ship Am*ter at the same time. A L*nter artist on X, //WeinasWan even draws a comic of them beating Lumity and Huntlow shippers because the shippers are happy about their ships have a kiss scene and being canon. //WeinasWan also hate on both Amity and Willow for getting in their ship, making a comic about Amity will become an abuser like Odalia, and saying Willow only gets noticed because of Huntlow. They even hate on Dana for not making their ship canon.

Istg, HUNTLOW AND LUMITY ANTIS ARE THE WEAKEST LINKS IN THE COMMUNITY, FIGHT ME BITCH I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, and to add on Lunter shippers are the most annoying, insufferable, stupid, obnoxious people on earth, and this is by experience, and when you talk about the drawing of Luz and the prince, HUNTER DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST AT THE TIME, and I'm sorry to Dana but Amity was obviously supposed to be a love interest, and I just wanna add the guster and goldric shippers too, if you ship guster...YOU'RE A PEDOPHILE, don't fucking lie to me saying you don't ship their future selves cause I know damn well you do (just btw their future ages are 16 and 20) and goldric shippers...WHERE THE FUCK DO I BEGIN?? they are the most immature people in the toh community. "B-But we want a mlm ship a-and Hunter and Edric are the same age" first of all Edric is already fucking dating someone, second, since it has gold in your ship name Hunter was already introduced, meaning you know NOTHING about him, third, STOP FUCKING SHOVING THE BLIGHT TWINS WITH EVERYONE THEY MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH, any ship with Edric and Emira are gonna be dogshit of ships given they're unnecessary and they were never meant to have love interests

aaaanywayys that's was my rant...goodbye ig?

[lil-melody-moon]

Hello, darling… here comes what you’ve been waiting for all week 😏 the next fragment of the “A Quick One” revenge fanfic. Also, you’ll receive an ask with the release dates of each chapter very soon😉

I hope you enjoy it❤️

————————————————————————————

Ever since that night when you found yourself giving in to thoughts you shouldn’t have had, things began to feel different in your own home. Every day since, you felt more and more like someone was watching you. At first, you brushed it off, thinking it was just a result of the guilt you’d been carrying. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, making you feel paranoid when really, there was nothing to worry about. After all, it wasn’t like someone could actually be there. Your house wasn’t big, and you would have noticed if someone was lurking around, especially at night. It just didn’t make sense. So, you tried to ignore it, telling yourself that it was just in your head.

The phone calls with Frank were as they always had been, short, distant, and cold. Most of the time, it was you who had to make the effort, picking up the phone to call him, just to feel a connection, however small. On the rare occasions when he called you, it was never out of concern for how you were feeling. Instead, he’d ask about what you’d done throughout the day, but he never seemed to care if you were alright, if you were happy, or if you needed anything. One night, when the uneasy feeling of being watched became too much, you mentioned it to him, hoping for a bit of reassurance, or at least for him to take your worries seriously.

“I don’t know, Frank,” you said cautiously during one of your brief phone calls. “I’ve been feeling like someone’s watching me lately. I can’t explain it, but I don’t feel right in the house on my own.”

You waited for a response, expecting some kind of concern or at least understanding. Instead, Frank almost laughed.

“It’s impossible,” he said, his tone dismissive. “You’re imagining things. But if it makes you feel better, I can ask one of my mates to keep an eye on you from time to time. You know, just to make sure everything’s alright.”

His words were meant to comfort you, but instead, your heart pounded harder in your chest. The idea of one of his friends watching over you made you uneasy, and your mind immediately went to Ernie. The idea of him coming around to “check on you” sent a shiver through your body, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it would complicate things even more

Still, you didn’t know what else to say. Frank had already brushed off your concerns, and you didn’t want to argue with him. So, with a tight knot in your stomach, you agreed.

“Alright,” you muttered, forcing the word out, even though every fibre of your being screamed against it.

After the call ended, you sat in the quiet of your home, the feeling of being observed hanging even heavier in the air. The thought of Ernie, watching over you filled your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this situation was about to take a turn you weren’t ready for. But then again, you’d already crossed a line in your mind, and now you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the consequence you’d been dreading.

Hello, I'm so happy I can finally read this, omg! Oh, so you have it scheduled already? Huh, you're more close to suggestions than I was, but that's okay 💜

This fragment has a very creepy atmosphere to it, but I guess you aimed for that so I can safely say that you've achieved it.

Showing the call and how dismissive Frank is about my concerns is very well done. Of course he wouldn't believe me. It would be impossible for one of his friends to grab a key, make a spare one for himself and have an open door for himself to peep on me, of course, Franky, of course 🙄 You don't know your own friends, do you?

Love that at the mention of one of his friends coming over to check on me, I immediately think about Ernie. I would do that, I'm not gonna lie, I would. I would even fucking anticipate him, nervous, full of worry, knowing it'll make things more complicated, but still... 👀

I love this fragment, love the atmosphere, I'm going to comment on the next one right away!

[writertothemaximum]

Role Swap

featuring: gojo satoru

scenario: satoru acts like he can play the big game, but he can't outpace your stamina.

content warnings: lots of smut, mdni, Gojo being a little shit, bottom reader, dom reader, gender ambiguous reader but female anatomy, (implied) sub satoru, unsensitive/high endurance reader, he calls you “honey” once.

Satoru leans his head on you, rubbing his nose into the nape of your neck. He hums quietly, letting the rumbling of his vocal cords resonate into your collarbone.

“I wanna hear you whine.”

…

“Does that feel good? How does that feel, honey?”

Two of his fingers rub around inside of you, his middle finger deep, his index shallower, rubbing against your hole, rubbing against every sensitive nerve ending, getting every last spot. Blinking, you see him look down over at his sunglasses at you, a bit surprised.

“Hm? Am I not doing a good job? You’re not making much sound…”

He looks up at you with big puppy eyes, his fingers still fluttering around, pressing a bit harder, his other hand up and flicking at your clit.

“Come on, honey…”

Your hand outstretches and grabs his face, knocking his glasses slightly off his face. You tell him that he’s doing a good job, but you laugh, telling him that it’s not enough to get a sound out of you.

“Can we do this then? You’ll let me fuck you then, right?” Satoru begs, and he pulls out his cock, slapping against your stomach. He’s big and thick, and his cock is so pretty, and you know it would go deep and sit so thick and good inside of you. 

“You’re so wet, let me show you a good time, I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be moaning my name.”

….

Satoru plunges inside of you, a full, complete thrust, hitting the deepest part of you, filling you out as wide as possible. It feels so good to be stretched apart like this, his cock so pretty, so warm, so big and plump, just for you. He’s above you as you lie on your back, and he slaps his hips back and forth pathetically, as chills go up his spine in pleasure.

Satoru’s head bends downwards, his mouth opening, his tongue flapping out, moans and grunts, and desperate pleas slipping from every fibre of his being.

“How are you…How are you not making a sound? Fuck…Shit…”

It feels great, but it’s not nearly enough to satisfy you. He stretches you so wide, but you could go wider. You could go faster. There are spits and spats as Satoru desperately humps against you, his balls slapping against your ass, the wet, ooey-gooey sounds of sex escaping into space, and flooding out of his mouth. His body pours with sweat, his stamina unable to keep up, his body unable to keep up.

He’s supposed to be the strongest, but what a challenge you are.

“You’re so…Shit. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You feel so good. Please, please, you’re so warm, shit. I can’t anymore.”

You hug Satoru tightly as his cock fills you out in your deepest parts, tickling that spot inside, where it sends trembles down your spine. Your hole is so slick and slimy, his cock gracefully slides in and out without friction, only to be greeted by that wonderful tightness of warmth and flesh.

Satoru whines a high pitched whine, moaning desperately, his eyes twirling as he cums inside you, creaming out your insides.

“I cave. I concede, you…you win.”

Losing all energy, he collapses on top of you, and you pump your fist into the air, congratulating your victory.

[home-at-nine]

Prologue

"Tigers die and leave their skins; people die and leave their names." - Japanese Proverb

I watch the seconds tick by very... goddamn... slowly. As I look up from my laptop, I see my younger sister at the door. The cursor on the file blinking as I struggle to find the words to express the bullshit that's happened these past few weeks.

"Will's calling you down for dinner"—He pauses for what it feels like an eternity—"Alfred."

"Still not used to that, Frog?"

"I can't believe you went with 'Alfred'."

I close my laptop and begin to get up. "Why not? He's the best comic book character ever. And you don't get to judge,"—I chuckle—"Artemis."

"Fuck you."

"Double fuck you twice."

I close my door behind me and start walking down the stairs. "How about Albert then?"

Artemis follows me down the stairs. I smell the aromas of Will's cooking in the air. I feel the saliva in my mouth pooling like a sea. I turn around and look at my baby sister, "Frog?".

Before she can respond, I rush down the stairs. I wince as the light in the dining room hits my eyes. I look at Will in bewilderment. "How the FUCK are you so perfect, bitch?"

Will's one of my closest friends. His parents died young, so he moved in with his grandparents. They died a couple years ago, when Will turned 19, inheriting the house we're living in now. I love this man with every fibre of my being.

"I don't know, bro. Ask God," He smirked. He has a great smirk.

I go to the sink and wash my hands, looking down to see if the cuts healed. They hadn't.

I sit down at the table and look at the Butter Chicken he just perfectly cooked. "If that's too sweet, I'm putting you in a goddamn headlock."

Got to make sure he knows you don't fuck with the Butter Chicken.

I analyse the food at the table. Garlic naan, achar, and, of course, that perfect smelling Butter Chicken. Surprisingly, it doesn't smell too sweet. Just perfect. Even the restaurants back in India mess that up.

Frog joins us at the table and we begin eating. Despite the boisterous interaction from my bewilderment at Will's ability to cook, there hadn't been much conversation. I regret that. I wish I could talk to him like nothing was wrong. I wish I wasn't locked away in the room he's providing to me, on his dime.

Frog looks to Will, "You got a better name than 'Alfred' in mind? Because I refuse to have an older brother named 'Alfred'. How'd you come up with Will?"

Will took a moment, "Not gonna lie... I was just a big fan of The Ranger's Apprentice. And it was my great-grandfather's name, so I felt doubly comfortable taking that on. Me personally, finding a name was probably the easiest part of the process."

I know where the conversation's heading. I don't have too much I like and I sure as hell ain't naming myself after a historical figure. I spring to change topics, "I'm gonna start looking for work this week.".

Will and Frog pause. Will looks at me with a weird look on his face, "You can take a bit longer, Ch—". He stops himself before he finishes.

He continues, "—Alfred."

I stare at him for a second, chewing my food just a little longer than necessary. I know he wants to help me. Provide for us. But I want to help him too. The tablecloth has a nice texture. Somewhere between rough and soft. A gridded pattern runs across its entirety, rubbing against my fingers as I play with it.

Frog pipes up, "Speaking of... we need a new name. 'Alfred' sucks. I refuse to have a brother named 'Alfred'.". Will and I turn to her and I thank the Almighty for giving me a second to think of what kind of work I could do. Will is smart. Capable. He's taken care of himself without issue. What could I do?

Will cracks a small smile, "How about Atlas?". My head spins to look at him, nearly cracking my neck in whiplash. I've crumpled a little bit of the table cloth. Asshole's making fun of me.

"OOH, ATLAS. I like Atlas."

I can't tell if Frog's playing along or if she genuinely likes the name. Maybe a bit of both.

As my closest friend and my sister decided my name for me, I resigned myself to it. I don't think I'm silly for wanting to step up and help Will. He doesn't have to be a prick about it.

I fold some chicken into my naan as I put it in my mouth, a perfectly balanced blend of spices tickles my tongue. "Motherfucker...", I mutter.

As we finish our dinner, Will and I decide to go upstairs to his room to talk about what to do from here. Although I've been locked away in the room for 2 weeks, not much has happened outside. Our lives remain stagnant. Something we don't mind so much right now.

Will jumps onto his bed and gestures for me to follow. "God, you might give me the wrong idea, you know?" I joke, as I follow him to the bed. Will just gives me a joking smirk as we turn on the TV and turn down the volume to muffle our conversation from my baby sister.

We revel in the silence for a few minutes. No yelling, nothing breaking. Just peace. Will is one of maybe 3 people in the world who can give me this sense of comfort even when things are fully quiet.

But my curiosity breaks the silence,"Why Atlas?". It's not like I didn't know. But I needed to confirm.

"Well, you've always had the weight of the world on your shoulders. I thought it was fitting. Barely been two weeks and you're already trying to be man of the house and help me."

"I can't stay a burden forever, man. Plus—"

"I know. You need work. You don't do well without something to do. How's the journaling?"

"It's been two weeks and I haven't written a fucking word. Writing is bullshit. I'd rather be matter-of-fact. Concise."

"That's funny. You're a yapper."

"I'm not a yapper. You're a yapper, I'm a rambler. And I'm not trying to be 'man of the house'. I just want to earn my keep. Maybe I'll pick up a job with—" I pause, struggling to come up with a name "— Tony Stark...?".

Will doesn't find that funny. "You can take a longer break and figure something out. You have time. And you're smart. You're so good at fixing things. Figuring them out. Talking to people. You could sell sand to a lifeguard at the beach.

"Something with your talents... You've always been good at taking care of problems..."

Will trailed off. He does that when he suddenly remember something. It bothers me to no end, but I forgive him for it because he's pretty.

He continues, "Actually, maybe there's something you can do...".

This motherfucker.

-------------------------------------------------

As the light flickers in the back alley, I reach for my lighter. The voice over the phone is rushed.

He's been using again, that nasty shit. Well, it's not my problem.

As I'm judging this crapstain on the bottom of the society's foot, he speaks up.

"That kid's back in town, Jerry."

I pause. I take a deep breath, hoping my it doesn't sound shaky on the other end of the phone.

"What? Which kid?"

"The crazy one," he said. He sounds really agitated. "Spencer? Spencer Wilson?"

Holy fuck. That bastard's in town? The lights flicker as he says his name. God's being real dramatic right now. Or maybe this kid's the devil incarnate.

"Okay.". I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with smoke. Might need more of this tonight.

"OKAY? Jerry, do you FUCKING remember the people he conned before he skipped town? Do you remember the lives he destroyed before he left town? And on a FUCKING WHIM?"

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I told you this would happen," he said. He sounds pissed. What the fuck?

"Those motherfuckers wanted us to pay protection and this kid wanted a fake ID. I didn't think he'd actually fuck with them.". I can't help yelling. This bastard wants to blame me for the situation that little shit put us in?!

"Don't you FUCKIN' yell at ME, Jerry! I own half. You put MY STAKE up and now he might be coming for it. I own that building too. I OWN YO—"

Oh look, my finger slipped to the end call button. Whoopsie.

I feel the cigarette burning my fingers as the flame nears the filter. I drop it and pull out another one.

"Fuck...".

[movingonup-diary]

I am so sad for my inner child. I literally feel so much grief for her, it’s my job to be the parent she deserves. My mum always had complex emotional needs that needed to be unpacked and rewired. Instead of getting the help she needed, I mean mental health was a myth in a Nigerian household, she instead made her children and husband attend to her emotional world. It’s so bad that my emotional world can only exist through an outpouring online, underneath the covers of my room or through overthinking. I find some much joy in experiencing the world with others but inside, am I happy? What does a happy internal world feel like?

I came into this relationship with a deep fear that I will be her toxic ex. Because I didn’t truly know myself. Now I know what that toxicity looks like. If I never met her, I would still have my friend. Somewhat, I’m resentful and grateful because all that was revealed was a side of my friend that I couldn’t accept. Her dark side is my trigger. To have my reality or side of the story denied because she’s too selfish to feel compersion for me. I don’t feel like I can trust people anymore. But do I have to? I trust God, humans will always be humans. Even me, this week I have been my intimidating shadow that has now scared my friends. But this shadow is how I speak with confidence and enter the spaces I am in. I am scared of no one. Especially not my mum. She needs me more than I need her. She’s already shown her hand many times. The only thing is I don’t learn into my power, the vindictive spirit I have to fuck up her toxic family system. I’m still protecting her from a total breakdown by staying tightly in my role. It’s my certainty. I fear uncertainty. What if I am harmed by others by trusting them too much?

But I am not a bitch. I will deal with the uncertainties of life by keep my principles. I don’t like being perceived as a people pleaser anymore. I like being perceived as reasonable, kind, forgiving, nurturing, helpful and a good confidant. But people pleaser no, everyone must proceed with their base lowered and ultimate guidance because I will cuss. This is also why I’m just not sure about the friendships in that group anymore. I would rather meet people one on one, people only cared about keeping up the dynamic than the fact my friend and I feel out. Did they even reach out to her to check on her? Yes I said mad shit but hearing her out does matter, even if I know she will lie. They thought I was asking her take sides, whereas I know I was taking a stand against her bullying someone with a chronic health issue and spreading a rumour and manipulation to get me to see my love interest in negative light for having her safe zones. Does the dynamic matter more than addressing bad behaviour head on? Than holding her accountable. That’s all I cared about. I assumed they had the same principles considering all the performance they do for celeb abusers. But maybe I’m projecting. But just fuck everyone. But I’m keeping the peace still. I will be investing more into my new relationships. Esp when it comes to work. I need to get into my mindstate of hustling and hustling hard. I know how to get everything going. I need to learn into everything with every fibre of my being. I don’t have time for friends that aren’t serious. That aren’t aligned with the greater mission to make a better world. They have failed the test fr.s

I think their anxiety comes from not being actually able to live up to my values. A lot of them do not support my work and it lowkey sucks. I let it be but I need more vitalising relationships, I am settling so so much. Even seeing my girl and her friends and how they pour into one another. Only very few people give me that. I need to invest more in strengthening this than reliance unfulfilling old dynamics. My roller skating club is the source of my enjoyment with friends and new friends. I am hanging out to the old rather than embracing the new where I get a lot of happiness. The old friendship dynamics is again this same thing if playing this role to reduce the anxieties of people with severe anxiety issues. They do not want to be perceived, I do want to be perceived because I want to be heard and listened to. I want to embody the voice of oppression as a powerful force change in perspectives. I want to guide the next generation of leaders. I want to open up the portals for the worlds healing through the processing of my own pain born of generations of abject poverty in Nigerian. I don’t aspire to stand on the shoulders of great leaders, I already am great by just existing, being where I am at, being alive.

[radicalrascals]

Nick's smiling brightly, wrestling with his tobacco pouch a little while trying to roll himself a smoke on the way out. "You weren't here, Tishoca," he reminds her with a chuckle, lighting his rollie the secend they're finally outside, "I would've told you. You know, asking for care instructions and all that. We really only met because you two ran away to a whole different country."

He leans against the facade and lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling slowly, almost resembling a sigh. "Yup, met the kids. Briefly, that is. But I think Aanya really fell in love with Spellbound." Which still makes him feel strangely proud. "Meeting the parents always makes me nervous though. Lucky you you're probably spared meeting Renato. Not that... He doesn't speak English. Makes things complicated."

Dating only three people though? Nick giggled like a school girl, though as he turns around to catch a glimpse of the cryptid, he immediately chokes on his laughter finding Hari about to leave and his brother in an all too familiar pose; leaning back in his chair, head slightly cocked, eyes narrowed and eerily calm. "Pelo amor de Deus...!"

"That tells me everything I need to know," Rafael retorts, something inherently provocative about his calmness, a misplaced trait usually reserved for those who deserve it. People who no doubt had even worse threats for him. He's heard it all. But points for creativity and the courage to risk a serious criminal charge without an army of lawyers. He might've respected that, if Hari hadn't just failed the last test he's had for him.

"How you're so quick on defending the honour of a woman I couldn't care less about, but feel no indignation towards the implication of breaking my brother's heart. Now I know where your priorities lie."

"Rafa! Que porra é isso?! O que você disse?"

"Você deve procurar alguém que a valorize e a trate com respeito. Não ele."

"Wow... we're gone for five seconds and you both manage to fuck this up this badly. Yes, both of you!" He took a deep drag, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. "You're our older brothers? Really? Because right now you act like bratty children who don't want to share their sand moulds. We don't need your approval. We're grown ups. The only reason we tell you is because you're an important part of our life and we want to share this with you. Don't ruin it!"

"Nico..."

"I'm not done yet. You're gonna aplogise." Rafael huffs and gives Nick an aww, come on, man! look. But Nick's the immovable object to his brother's unstoppable force. "I'm waiting. Or do you want to ruin Christmas for both Tisha and myself."

"I'm sorry I've ruined your day, Nico."

"Not to me. Nice try though."

Rafael clenches his jaw. Every fibre in his being wants to protest, but he can also see the hurt behind Nick's eyes and he knows how close he is to crying. He doesn't even want to imagine how pissed off Tisha is at him right now.

"Desculpa. I'm sorry I dragged your ex-wife into this." Nick made a gesture to keep going, and very begrudgingly Rafael did: "That wasn't fair. I'm still not convinced you appreciate my brother as much as he deserves. But Nico's right. That's none of my business. Never has been. I shouldn't tell you how to love. If you're happy together that's... it's great actually. Keep making my brother happy and never stop. Then we won't have a problem. We don't need to be friends, but I would be okay with a truce."

Tisha barely pauses to light her cigarette before squeezing Nick’s arm, giddy laughter spilling out of her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this! I mean, I can, because I didn’t tell you, but holy shit! You and Hari?” She takes a drag, but the smoke spills back out with her next laughing fit. “Have you met the kids yet? Oh my God, have you met my parents? Is Christmas going to be the first time? They’re going to love you, don’t even worry about it - you’re like, my mom’s dream.” Well, the werewolf thing isn’t part of the dream, but they don’t need to know that, and she doesn’t need to bring it up, not when everything is starting to go okay. “Sorry, I’m kind of excited. Hari would be super mad at me for saying this, but he’s dated like, three people his entire life, and… I think you’ll be good for him.”

Hari huffs out a soft laugh, turning the pictures over in his hand. “These your kids? Strong genes.” He passes the picture back, and a shadow crosses his face for just a moment. “You know, Rafael… most people would probably say that the friendship Victoria and I have maintained after our divorce is a good thing. I don’t think you understand what it says about you that you don’t.” His voice is just a touch too calm, just a bit too low, and he pours himself another shot.

“It makes you sound like a man who doesn’t see value in someone after your romantic relationship with them ends. I understand being protective. I really do. Ask Tisha about it sometime. Ask her what it was like when she was little. I understand wanting the best for your brother, and being really cautious about who comes into his life. But you have no right to imply what you just implied. And if you ever speak about the mother of my children again in a way that even slightly suggests she would stoop to infidelity, I will not need to lean on words like unspeakable. I can speak it. I won twenty seven of my career fights via knockout. I will punch you in the mouth so fucking hard they’ll still be finding teeth on the day you’re embalmed.” Hari throws back his shot and then stands, setting the glass down firmly. “I hope you grow up before then. Enjoy your night.”

[icanfeelthekhaos]

I'm back again, probably with some depressing paragraph of sorts. I'm kinda glad no one really knows this account exists. It's like my depressing yet hopeful corner or tumblr I get to myself. Somewhere I can vent un-judged and these pixels just process the words I choose to type.

Well.. the past month has made me feel like falling back on my silence. To be seen and not heard? Kinda? Because I can't really be fully silent, my heart won't let me but I feel like Im being forced into silence. People and their narrow way of thinking, thinking about it know I'm already seen and not heard. I talk, I rip my heart open for the contents to spill out, raw, unchanged, true, honest and painful but it means nothing to anyone but me. Only I can feel my truth and honesty, only I can feel my pain and how raw it truly is. How it changes my life awake and sleeping how even to this very second it's reshaping my soul. Truth is I don't got to anyone anymore, not since what happened with the fake sun. I truly lost apart of me that day and I will never get that back.

I can't trust anyone and it's killing me. People say things to me, drop these hints of sorts, like they care but every fibre of my being tells me it's a lie. They all leave when the times right for them, when I fill my purpose. I don't really mean anything to anyone. Even my children will reach a point in their life where they'll no longer need me and they fade from my days. I should be grateful for where I am in my life right now but the truth is I'm afraid. I have these okay days and then I decline and it's scary. I feel like I'm backtracking all the progress I made to heal and to be mentally better. I don't have anything in my life currently that makes me feel incredibly happy. I did but like everything else I fucked it up. People who don't know a thing about me, about my life, my struggles, my pain or my thought process make comments about me like.. I'm some malicious..cruel person and I'm not.

You know a lot of my problems currently due to dissociation. It's the reason I struggle with my identity, ive apparently got this thing called dissociative amnesia, basically I can't remember shit not matter how hard I try. Conversations, events, dates, the day before sometimes. I have to keep a journal just so I can remember things. It's something I got as a packaged deal with PTSD. Dissociation is something created by a traumatic event where you have no control over a situation or you can't do anything to prevent it. You brain shuts down and throws into a different reality almost to deal with overwhelming emotions of pain. Perhaps that's why my ptsd attacks rock me so roughly? It's got back up. Another reason to fall back into silence perhaps? People are just gonna be fed up with this crumbling mess of a human I am.

So moral of todays...uh..thought dump? Silence it is. I'm done talking to people. Done reaching out and opening up. Tired of giving undeserving people parts of me they have no right to. I Kinda feeling burnt out and I really got to focus on my mindset and get it to a point where I'm not regressing. Past few weeks I've had a couple thoughts where I wished the overdose worked and I'm glad it didn't, but I can't let those thoughts better me again. I must be stronger. If I have to shut the world out but him to do that I will.

[jungk0oksthighs]

Pi Gasu | One Of Me, Two Of Us

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook

Word Count - 5.5k

Jungkook doesn't react too kindly to your previous threat & makes you an offer. Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, terminal illness, toxic family dynamics & secrets

SERIES MASTERLIST

There are moments in life when time itself comes to a halt. Moments where there are so many unspoken truths locked behind the eyes of the damaged and tormented, begging to be freed but too afraid to speak up. Moments like these can be found everywhere in life, with nothing but racing hearts and anxious sweaty palms desperately clinging onto the illusion of something better. Ignoring reality, ready to embrace the future whatever it looks like. Longing for more. Uncertainty is omnipresent, and in this moment, right here, it’s thick enough to cloud the air and choke you.

“Do not pull that trigger.” Jungkook warns from his position on the now destroyed bed, equal parts frightening and frightened. “Y/N… Untie me, I’ll do anything you need. I’ll be anything you need. But do not pull that trigger.”

A shaky breath escapes you, gun still firmly pressed to your temple, “Why? So you can lie to me about drinking my blood—”

“I cannot express the magnitude of how sorry I am, I’m sorry. I really am sorry I was dishonest with you, but you don’t need to do this. I’ll give your brother my blood. I’ll save him.”

Where Jungkook was once battling with the restraints, screaming, begging you to free him just moments ago. He’s now completely still, there’s a darkness in his eyes suggesting that he’s looking at you with nothing but disgust and hatred. But his features are soft, rounded, maybe even a little scared. As you know by now he’s not exactly reliable, in fact he’s far from it. But there’s something about the desperation engulfing his frame that makes you want to believe him.

“How do I know that I can trust you?” You swallow, trembling hands slowly peeling the weapon away from your face.

“Because you’ve just threatened the one thing the solidifies my promise.” He sighs, watching you cautiously. There’s another sigh that follows, this one appearing more relieved when you haphazardly throw the gun down to the glossy floor of the private VIP room. “Untie me.”

“Why did you lie to me?” You sniff, a myriad of emotions coursing your veins in this moment. Relief, sadness, regret, shame, and one that’s fuelling every fibre of your being. Hope. Hope for Eddie. Hope that he’ll live a long, healthy life.

Jungkook wets his lips, taking a beat of silence before he shakes his wrists, sharp chin tipping to the chains binding his fury, “You have my word that I’ll help your brother, untie me and we’ll discuss this properly.”

“No.” You bite, shaking your head, determined for answers, “Not until you tell me why you lied. This whole time you’ve been filling my head with romantic bullshit just to drink my blood? Why?”

“There is no bullshit Y/N,” Jungkook kicks his head back in frustration, clearly irritated that you’re interrogating him right now, “What you must understand about me is that before you I had nothing to lose. I said things, did things, that may not make sense to you.”

At this you scoff, peering up to the corner of the room where you clock a tiny camera with a blinking red light beneath the lens. A swift reminder of where you are, of what Euphoria actually is. “Just answer the fucking question. You lied for a reason.”

“Losing you isn’t an option and I knew the truth would hurt—”

“So you kept this huge secret from me for weeks instead?! Tell me how that’s any better!” You lose your cool, thank god Jimin had the decency to share Jungkook’s true intentions with you, if it weren’t for him you would’ve probably been tangled up in the sheets – what’s left of them – with Jungkook right now. The thought alone is enough to make you nauseous, disappointed in your own judge of character.

“I didn’t say it was better, but it was too late for me to take it back by the time your true identity dawned on me. Y/N… Do you believe in fate?” Jungkook’s simple question lands on your ears like an intricate riddle.

“What?” You blink at him, confused. Footsteps already bringing you closer to the bed he’s bound to. He swallows, eyes fluttering shut from pain when you begin to laugh, loud.

“Is this where you tell me we’re soulmates? We’re written in the stars like some sick badly written vampire fanfiction?” You snort, throwing your head back in disbelief, “Sure Jungkook, let’s say fate brought us together and not the prospect of money to help my dying brother. Did fate make you lie to me? Was it fate that drank my blood behind my back? Did fate almost bite me? Is fate the reason you’re chained to a bed right now, physically incapable of stopping me from storming out the room?”

A wicked smile tugs his handsome features, masking the hurt that his doe-eyes are drowning in, “Be my guest. Storm out the room. See how long your brother lasts without me.”  

“Fuck you.” You spit, disgusted.

“I think that ship has long sailed, don’t you?” He’s chuckling, craning his neck from side to side to ease the tension he feels. “If you don’t untie me in the next five seconds—”

His threat is cut short by you reaching for the chains, he’s explained to you before that only a human can physically unlock them. Some kind of ancient binding magic created by powerful witches a billion years ago or something equally as dramatic. If there is no human present to untie them, the creatures of the night rely on timers to break free. But that’s usually a last resort, as vampires are somewhat arrogant and accustomed to humans bending over for them as soon as they ask.

With determined fingers you manage to break the spell, and it’s a millisecond later when you’re being pinned down to the mattress with so much force that for a second your heart stops beating.

Jungkook is above you, angrily pinning your hands above your head, staring down at you with a jaw so sharp it threatens to slice you. Eyes painfully tormented with something dangerous and frightening. His chest is heaving up and down with each and every unsteady breath dragging through his flared nostrils. His hold of your palms is harsh enough to make you hiss in pain, and it’s at that moment Jungkook softens his grip.

“Don’t ever, ever, do that to me again.” His tone drips with venom, sharp teeth bared in a sinister snarl, “Humanity isn’t something you should be reckless with. Take it from somebody who was stripped of theirs without a choice. The only good thing to come from this eternal misery is finding you, so you don’t get to laugh and dance with the idea of death.”

Perhaps it’s the way every hair on your body is standing to attention, or maybe it’s the way you’re both drowning in the depths of his words. Whatever the reason, you begin to sob beneath him. Tears cloud your vision, your heart beating so hard you can feel it in your throat like a stone of sorrow. Jungkook doesn’t move, but his profile does relax upon watching you break down into floods of tears.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper, overcome with emotions that you’ve buried for so long.

“Your life is everything to me.” He hushes you, a long drawn-out sigh following his coos.

“Why… Why me?”

At this the vampire seems to lose himself, eyes frantic and wide with genuine disbelief, “Why you?! Why you?!” He lunges forward even more so, until his forehead rests against yours and his lips are a hair away from your teary face. When the words roll off his tongue they’re barely audible, whispered, but they’re powerful enough to cause your chest to tighten, “Why anyone else when you exist in this world?”

Swallowing, you find the courage to question his previous statement, “Why did you ask if I believe in fate?” You sniffle, eyes fluttering to a close when you’re being tugged into a seated position, your weight directly above Jungkook’s lap, “Do you really think we’re written in the stars?” Your hands find his face, your own body betraying you when the anger you felt for him mere moments ago dissipates into a yearning so utterly heart-shattering it takes your breath away. A feeling so indescribable you ponder if it were really written by the stars, because it’s unlike anything humanly possible.

“Is that what this is? Is that what’s happening between us?” You ask. Simply because from the moment his presence came into your life you’ve been nothing but drawn to him. Sure, you’re angry he lied. Yes, you may have just threatened your life in return for a simple favour from him. But why, why is it that the only ingredient in this messy mixture of life that makes you feel anything at all, is him?

He's cradling you now, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear all while shaking his head, wearing a serious albeit vaguely haunted expression, “I don’t particularly think we’re written anywhere, not yet.” His icy cold thumb catches your falling tears, “But when I look at the stars all I see is you.”

“Please,” You plead, “Please help me save my brother.”

“On one condition.” Jungkook’s words are lost to the skin of your neck, where he’s inhaling your scent with closed eyes, dark lashes dusting the top of his cheekbones.

You pause, slightly panicked. There’s only one thing fathomably possible. He still wants your blood. To feed from you, to know the taste of your humanity trickling down his throat like water droplets of sin from a leaking pipe. That has to be it.

“That’s not it,” Jungkook interjects quietly, reading your mind with ease, “I’ll help you save your brother, but I’m not giving you my blood. I’ll give it to him directly.”

“But he lives six hours—”

“I would go to the ends of the earth for you Y/N. A six hour journey each way is nothing.” He chuckles, the sound floods your senses like a comfortable blanket from the past. “I’ve never begged for anything in this life, but please,” His tone drops an octave lower than usual, “Don’t ever threaten me like that again. Your life is a gift, you don’t need to treat it like a weapon against me. We’re on the same side.”

The human heart beats approximately four thousand times an hour. And every palpitation, each throb, pulse, beat, and pump of blood around your body is a reminder, a reward, for still being here. No matter how bad things may seem, there is light at the end of every tunnel.

Who would’ve thought your light would manifest as a centuries old vampire who’s haunted the corners of your mind since the moment you laid eyes on him.

--

Convincing you to allow Jungkook to visit your childhood home was no easy feat. Jungkook found himself repeating himself over and over, reassuring you that he will save your brother if you trust him enough to enter his private space. He knows he doesn’t deserve that trust though, not after lying to you about the true destination of your donations. But the moment you figured out his greatest weakness, his only weakness, and used it to your advantage – he knew he was in too deep.

The idea of losing you, be it to the brown soil of the earth or to the thirst of eternal life, is something that Jungkook cannot physically handle. It’s still a mystery to him why your blood smells different to others, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you and he are connected by the moon. The moon has a dark side that nobody ever sees, hidden and overlooked by the beautiful glow of the surface moonlight. And yet neither can exist without the other – something Jungkook never truly understood until he met you.

Where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is Jungkook, there is you.

At some point he managed to convince you this is the best way – the only way he’s willing – to help your brother. Being immortal is a curse, not in the sense of watching everybody you’ve ever loved grow grey and die, but in the sense of being able to hear every mortal thought around him. To feel every emotion coursing a human’s mind every second of the day. Truthfully he’s never cared for humanity before, it took him almost two centuries to drown out the noise they give off, but he eventually did it. Again, until he met you.

“My mom’s going to be suspicious of this, you know that right?” You sigh, somewhat agitated. “There’s no way this is going to work.”

It’s almost seven pm and you’re both sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a motel mattress. For obvious reasons you wouldn’t allow Jungkook to sleep at your mom’s house. And so the façade of being your ‘boyfriend’ and the two of you ‘needing your own space’ was created. Hence the motel a mile away from Eddie’s space.

“Is the idea of us being together really that unbelievable?” Jungkook’s pierced brow quirks, lips curling into a small smile. “I would argue that we suit each other quite well.” He hums, watching you lace up your white sneakers.

You’re wearing a grey oversized t shirt dress today, while Jungkook finds it difficult to keep up with the trends of human fashion – for example in his youth a woman would’ve never exposed so much skin - he admits you look nice. Simple yet ‘grungy’ with a black leather jacket draped over your shoulders.

“You’re a vampire,” You remind him with a flat voice, emotionless, recently it’s been hard for Jungkook to decipher your thoughts because you’ve been so guarded around him. But he understands, giving what’s happened, “And even if by some miracle she doesn’t realise, you have face tattoos. There’s no way she’s going to like you.” You snort, shaking your head.

Jungkook stands, looking over the new outfit you picked out on his behalf for this occasion in the full-length mirror. A black turtleneck, presumably to cover the tattoos littering the flesh there, paired with slacks and a leather jacket of the same colour. He’s still smiling, brushing raven hair back between his inked fingertips.

“Well luckily for you the purpose of me being here is not to impress your mother.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Soon enough you’re standing on your mother’s porch, fingers laced with Jungkook’s in an attempt to come off as a normal couple. Your mother is under the impression you arrived just now, when in reality you arrived last night. Of course you couldn’t visit her during the day, not unless you wanted Jungkook to burst into ash where he stands. Truthfully? Giving how you’ve been acting around him he thinks there’s a part of you that wants nothing more than just that. But even he knows you feel it too, the lunar pull between your souls binding and entwining you with each and every passing second you spend in the other’s company.

The term ‘true mate’ has been thrown around over the centuries, Jungkook never believed in such destiny because he had never experienced it. But –

“Y/N, you came.” Your mom smiles, interrupting his train of thought. Her expression drops as soon as she register’s your ‘boyfriends’ presence beside you. Her eyes flicker to where your hands meet, and Jungkook has to bite back a laugh at your mother’s thoughts.

So this is the guy who’s stolen my daughter’s heart. Stolen sounds about right. This guy definitely has a criminal record. Divine Sinner? Either he’s a pretentious asshole or he’s in a cult. She can do better, I never expected her to choose someone like him.

“Hello, Jungkook is it?” She feigns a smile, “When Y/N told me she had a boyfriend I didn’t believe her… So nice to meet you.” She’s laughing now, though her eyes have been replaced by sharp daggers boring into the depths of Jungkook’s immortal being.

“Pleasure to meet you too ma’am.” He grins, somewhat amused by the whole situation. He could kill her immediately, right here on the spot where she stands, and it’s not like you would bat an eyelid because your thoughts are just as malevolent as hers.

Been here less than two minutes and she’s already judging me, sounds about right. Why couldn’t it have been her that got sick? Why Eddie? He’s a good person, a much better person than she is. Just keep it together Y/N you’re not here to catch up.

“Well… Come in.” There’s a spike of hesitation to her request, followed by a flash of panic behind her aged eyes that doesn’t go a miss by Jungkook. She suspects.

“I’ll fix us some tea, you must be tired after that long flight. Y/N do you have the money for—”

Your mother’s words fade into nothing, Jungkook’s been invited into the home but still it’s difficult to be in here. It’s bleak, unpersonal and the entire place is flooded with rose thorn. The stench of it is almost enough to have him gasping for air, but thankfully he doesn’t exactly need to breathe. So she’s paranoid about vampires. Very paranoid it seems. And then it clicks into place, it was definitely your mother who poisoned you before, suspicious of what you had been getting up to in the city. It all makes sense now.

There’s no way in hell he’s drinking that tea.

--

As expected your mother is dubious of your ‘relationship’ with the giant tattooed man you’ve darkened her doorstep with. It’s comical in a way, how she barely knows her own daughter but has somehow managed to instantly pick up on the web of lies. It’s almost three hours after you arrive that you’re allowed to see your twin brother in the makeshift hospital room, even after you’ve being asking her nonstop. But she’s been too busy grilling Jungkook tirelessly, curiously cocking her head to one side when he said he didn’t like tea. She fucking hates him.

The air is tainted by the smell of bleach in here, but it’s not enough to steal your concentration. You’re here for a reason. Jungkook’s here for a reason.

You’re sitting beside your frail looking brother with a heart so full of pain that you fear it could burst. Feeling so helpless, so useless, so desperate for your mother to leave the room so Jungkook can do what he came here to do. Truthfully you don’t know if bringing him here was the right choice, but it was the only way he agreed to help Eddie.

Surprisingly he hasn’t mentioned your donations since the other night, and you’re grateful for that. You’re grateful that you didn’t follow through with your threat and that you’re still alive. No words have been uttered about what happened that night at Euphoria, it’s just another elephant in the room, much like the presence of the woman who birthed you.

“Mom why don’t you go make some more tea before we head back to our hotel?” You try, growing impatient.

As usual Eddie is unconscious, knocked out from the various medications he’s taking to help battle his undiagnosable terminal illness. All you need is to distract your mom long enough to give Jungkook the chance to do his thing. His thing being saving his life.

“I’ll go make us some more…” She agrees albeit a little sceptically, but not before glaring at Jungkook with pinched brows. “I’ll be right back.” No sooner than she leaves the room Jungkook is standing by your brother in the blink of an eye. Right, vampire speed.

“Well you were right about one thing, she definitely hates me.” Jungkook chuckles, leaning down to your brothers neck where he inhales his scent, a look of confusion blanketing his handsome features.

“Like you said you’re not here to impress her, hurry up.” You whisper. Perhaps you’re being too harsh on him recently, so he lied to you. But he’s also here with you right now, about to save your brother’s life with his own blood. However this situation came to be is irrelevant, he’s here now.

There’s a growing tension in the room, but not due to the obvious limited time frame. And for once the tension isn’t stemming from a deep-seeded illegal lust between you two. Jungkook’s dark hair is long, parted in the middle as it always is and dusting his eyes. But even that’s not enough to mask the worry and realisation that’s brimming behind them. He’s completely still, frozen, like he’s glued to the floor, weighed down by his thick frown.

“What’s wrong?” You panic, fearing the worst. In a frenzied moment of distain your head snaps to one of the monitors Eddie is hooked up to, a cocktail of joy and dread bubbling inside your chest upon seeing his heartbeat. He’s still alive, you exhale with relief. So why the hesitation?

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N…” He swallows, briefly wetting his lips, “We should leave.”

“No!” You whisper-shout, rising from the coral armchair, pointing at him, “You promised me, you fucking promised. Don’t you dare back out now, don’t you dare! Help him!” You plead, anxiety heightening when you hear the sound of footsteps making their way down the hallway.

Of course Jungkook makes it back to his seat in time, pulling your sleeve down with him so that you too are sitting by the time your mother opens the old dining room door. You glance at her, half confused when she’s not holding any tea, half infuriated that she’d been gone no longer than two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds, that’s nowhere near long enough.

She doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t trust Jungkook.

“I’m all out of tea,” She admits, vaguely embarrassed, “Can I get you anything else? Jungkook? Would you finally like something to drink?” The way his name rolls off her tongue leaves a sour taste in your mouth, it’s as clear as the stars in the sky that she dislikes him. You feel… Annoyed. Which is hilarious, considering right now you don’t particularly like him either. Why the hell did he stop –

“No thank you,” Your fake boyfriend hums politely, ignoring the icy stare of your mom, “Actually I think we should get going to our hotel now, but it was lovely to meet you ma’am. And Eddie, of course. I know he’s always on Y/N’s mind, he means a lot to her.”

The underlying truth to his words makes you nauseous, a brutal reminder of the fact he can always read your thoughts. Wherever, whenever. As long as he’s in your space, he’s in your head. And dare you say it, a little in your heart too.

“Okay, will you be popping back in tomorrow before your flight home?” She asks, somewhat cockily. As though she knows she’s made him uncomfortable.

At this you sniff, winning their attention before loosely gripping Eddie’s hand and kissing the back of it, “I’ll let you know.”

There are moments in life when all rational goes out the window. Shattering the glass into teeny tiny pieces of rage and slicing anybody nearby. And when you get back to the motel, Jungkook locking the door behind you, this is one of those very moments.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” You’re emotional, infuriated and disgusted in yourself for trusting him in the first place. “Why did you hesitate? You promised, you fucking promise—”

“Sit down.” He bites, nostrils flared and chest puffed up like a predator looking at its prey. Actually there is no like about it, that’s exactly what’s happening.

The motel room is cheap and cheerful, eccentrically decorated and you’re certain the walls between adjacent rooms must be very thin. You don’t want to make a scene, nor do you want to entertain a battle you will no doubt lose. So you submit to his demand, body practically vibrating with rage bubbling at the surface.

“Your brother can’t be saved.”

“You said a drop of your blood could cure any human—”

“Exactly. Any human disease.” The way Jungkook emphasises the word human sends a pang of dread straight to your stomach lining. Your heart quickens, he can sense it too, you can tell by the way the masculine bump of his throat bobs up and down when he swallows uncomfortably.

There’s a pause, you barely register Jungkook turning on a nearby lamp you’re so lost in thought, “What… What are you saying?”

You feel numb when he sits beside you, tossing his leather jacket to the ground, “So that’s why you smell different to others…” He hums, mulling over his own thoughts, “You and your brother, you’re cursed.”

“Cursed? What so we’re not human? Is that why he’s sick?!” You’re frantic, paranoid and scared all at once. “What do you mean? What, what’s happening to him? Why do I—”

“It’s the curse of the Pi Gasu.” He says, as though you have any inkling of what he’s talking about – you do not.

“Jungkook I don’t know what that means.”

“How much do you know about your father?” His brows knit inquisitively, he’s so transfixed by his own thought process that he’s not looking at you. Instead, he lays back on the motel bed, crossing his legs and staring at the ceiling.

“I… He was an asshole, he beat my mom and me and Eddie—”

“He hurt you?” With that the vampire sits up straight, back so stiff that he looks as though he’s been purposely posed that way, eyes wide and brimming with rage so much so the ghoulish tinge of red appears. “Where is he?”

“He left us when I was young… I don’t know. I don’t care about him, tell me why you can’t save my brother even though you promised me you would.” The desperation in your tone is unmissable, you crumple forward, clutching your aching chest. Leaving Jungkook to stare at your back hopelessly. With your elbows to your knees, head in your hands, you well up with tears.

“There’s a reason a vampire mating with a human is illegal,” He begins, wanting to reach out and comfort you with his hands down your back, but he refrains, “Not just because it’s dangerous for the human. Our inhumane strength and uncontrollable lust that kicks in when we’re aroused means that there’s very few humans that live through the ordeal. But it’s worse for the ones who do.”

You sniffle, turning your head to face him. Trying to piece together how this has anything to do with your brother. But you let him continue, holding his intense gaze with a racing heart.

“The ones who survive have a higher chance of conceiving, because of our supernatural powers it’s almost always a guaranteed pregnancy even if protection is used. So… What can happen is something called the curse of the Pi Gasu. It translates to blood singer in Korean, which is where my kind are said to originate from, long before the tales of Count Dracula and Edward Cullen.” He scoffs, fighting to urge to roll his eyes.

“It can only happen in biological twins with one human parent, one vampire. As you can imagine it’s exceptionally rare, there aren’t many humans who survive a night with one of us. The DNA splits itself in the womb, one twin will remain human and the other will be cursed to a life like mine once they reach transition. It usually happens around the age of twenty five.”

“It’s called the Pi Gasu curse because the other twin, the human twin, is cursed too. The way they smell, the way they look… Everything about them is irresistible to a vampire. It’s the universes way of restoring balance in the world for creating a born predator… The curse births the ultimate prey too. Their scent changes the same time as their twins transition. There’s nothing I can do, your brother’s in his transition.”

Your jaw turns slack, a cold shiver running your spine while you try to process everything that he’s saying. Thinking as far back as you can remember you can’t recall your father ever leaving the house in the day time, he was a drunk, he used to stay home and sleep all day to recover from his nightly alcoholic antics. But to accuse him of being a creature of the night? To accuse your mother, however twisted she may be, of mating with one?

Is that why she hates vampires so much? Is that why Eddie’s disease is undiagnosable?

“T-there’s… There’s no way.” You’re speechless, blood running ice cold.

“Y/N I caught his scent, I know this is hard to process but it’s his destiny to be a vampire. Just as much as it’s your destiny to be killed by one.” There’s a sadness lingering in the air, but it all starts to make some kind of senseless sense to you.

“When will it happen…?” You whisper, eyes fluttering shut, “If what you're saying is true when will he turn?”

Jungkook clears his throat, pushing himself to your body until he’s close enough to cup your cheeks in his large palms. As always, there are so many lost words behind his features. So many possible outcomes of what will tumble from those tempting lips of his, but nothing, nothing could’ve prepared you for the truth.

“The transition will be complete the moment you die.”

“No.” You shake your head, frowning, “There has to be another way…”

“In my experience it’s the only way to end his suffering.” Jungkook murmurs, pulling you even closer until he’s cradling you in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

You curl up to his strong chest sobbing, squeezing him tightly. And so it was written that Eddie would be cursed to an immortal life, a life that you know he hates the mere idea of because of how your mother had raised you. In addition to that, the only way to save him from his endless pain and suffering is for you to be killed. Truthfully you’ve never felt as though your life served much purpose, if any at all. You can’t help but ponder if this has been the reason why, if your soul has known this all along.

“How do you know there’s no other way?”

“Because it was the same for me. My twin sister… She-, the night she was killed was the night I turned. The day after our twenty-sixth birthday. And I’ve lived with that burden for almost eight hundred years.” His sombre tone catches you off guard, this is the first time he’s ever delved into his personal human life. It’s a bittersweet moment.

"Pi Gasu vampires are different from bitten ones. We were born for this life so we're stronger, we can sense human emotions and the venom from our bite is excruciatingly painful to humans... It's why I don't feed from the vein."

Jungkook plants a kiss to your temple before he speaks again, “But we’ll find another way—”

“No… I don’t want my brother to be in pain anymore.” You admit with a deflated sigh, accepting your fate. Nothing compares to how you feel for your brother. No amount of friendship, no amount of hurt, joy or love would ever compare. He’s your twin brother, and you’ll do whatever it takes for him to survive this. Even if you don’t.

“I’ve told you before, your life is everything to me. I’m not going to lose you. Not in this life, not in any life. I would endure a thousand more miserable lifetimes, a thousand different worlds with endless sorrow, if it meant in just one I could find you. And I have, I'm not prepared to let you go.”

“You’re only saying this because of the curse.” You pull back, almost nose-to-nose with Jungkook who’s wearing the faintest hint of a smile. “If this is all true… The only reason you’re drawn to me is because of some stupid curse.”

“No,” He shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “The curse may be the reason I want to kill you. But your soul is the reason I haven't.”

“My soul.” You chuckle, the prospect of having one now you know you were destined to die is both comical and fascinating to you. What’s the point in having a soul it ultimately you would always end up here.

Why is it the closer we get to death, the more we desire to live?

Jungkook looks you dead in the eye, your thoughts clouding his own. He tightens his hold of you, his pierced lips a hair away from yours when he uses words to comfort you. But all they do is break your heart tenfold, because deep down you know he’s right.

“I know you feel this too… Sometimes it’s not the butterflies that tell you you’re in love, rather the pain.”

x

[mybuckynotyours]

Piece of Me

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Fem!Librarian!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Steve and his tongue are a warning duh, hints of cannibalism, oral (f receiving), squirting

Summary: Purely self indulgent! I would give anything to have Steve fucking Kemp eating me out so sensually like this. UGH.

A/N: Enjoy! I might explore more to this storyline, so please leave a comment or reblog if you like this! 😊

Steve was an incredible lover, attentive to every detail, wanting to get to know your most intimate moments of your life as well as your body. You could never fathom how someone such as yourself ended up with someone like him. He was the epitome of grace and dexterity. 

As soon as his fingertips would brush against your skin you felt at peace – safe even. Your mind would switch off; forgetting your days as Steve would consume your every fibre of your being and thoughts. 

“Steve…” His name rolled out of your mouth as if you were tasting the most exquisite piece of chocolate. 

Your eyes closed as you felt him hover above you in bed one lazy afternoon. The sun was about to set and the curtains to your room stood wide apart. Thankfully, no one could see what was going on, as you lived in the high-rise. 

His plump cherry lips were attached obsessively on your body, leaving an endless trail of kisses on your skin. He started from your arm till he reached your fingertips, kissing and sucking on each tip, his dark blue eyes boring into yours. He laughed softly as he kissed your pinky finger. 

You laughed with him and tried to grab hold of a fistful of his brown soft hair. His free hand caught yours, lacing it with his, his lips once again busy kissing your knuckles, making sure to give your hand just as much attention as he did to your other one. 

“I have to go close up.” You announced, huffing softly, ultimately bringing yourself back to reality. 

“Isn’t it Viola’s turn to close up today? Or did you lie to me?” His eyes shot you a playful with a sinister undertone look, his voice deepened on the last syllable. 

“Why would I lie to you?” You wondered, your eyes fixed on his body, watching how the sun reflected beautifully against his pale skin. You could eat him – if only you knew. 

“You’re staying here because I haven’t had my dinner yet.” 

By now, his hands were on your knees, spreading you wide so that he could get comfortable between them. A whiff of your scent was already driving him crazy. Your pussy was delicately on display for him to feast on. He has already feasted on the upper part of your body, gosh, your nipples were aching as they stiffened once again. He had bruised you – not that you cared. It drove you both wild when he would use his teeth, grazing and biting then sucking on them so hard then occasionally slap them so hard it made you yelp. His cock twitched with each silent scream, now throbbing in his boxers, so tight. He wanted to dive himself inside you deeply and roughly but he always managed to hold himself – nothing will change this – not today either. 

“Steve, please.” You started to beg, not exactly sure for what it was that you were begging. You knew that eventually he would fuck you senseless as he always done. Why the sudden hurry? You knew that he would take his time with you. There was not one part of your body that Steve did not give attention to. 

He hooked his forearms under your thighs as his hands laid flat out on your belly while the rest of his god-like body got in position, sifting on his knees as he got closer to your pussy. 

Your eyes instinctively closed and your head rolled back hitting gently your pillow. 

“Look at me, you know the rules.” He said huskily, feeling his cool breath near your clit.

He didn't dip his head till he was satisfied with you staring right at him. He always made you watch. He was fixated in making you to. He didn't want you to just feel. It was important to him for you to know how much he worships you and your body. If only one day he could actually slice a piece and devour you to the fullest. He groaned against your inner at the thought.

Since he was holding you in place, you couldn't do much, except to arch your back a little. His hands might have always been gentle on you but his grip was tight and strong.

A few bites and kisses to your inner thigh continuously teasing you, anticipating you for what's to come. 

You wanted to beg him again, your wetness was trickling down your thighs, damp and hot - Steve had his first taste as the tip of his tongue traced down your entrance, darting his tongue from side to side slowly.

He indulged himself in teasing you, watching you helplessly, at his mercy, in your place. 

"My pretty girl…my pretty wet girl." He hushed as you mewled.

His mouth was on your clit, sucking at it hard. The more you moaned, the harder he sucked, your sweet juice pouring out of you. 

His eyes shot open to look at his work, your clit was a little sensitive from sucking it so he teased you some more by tapping his index finger against it. 

Your eyes widened, gasping at him. "Fuck, Steve!"

He was now relentless. He dipped his head again and with his tongue he licked all the way down, fucking you with his tongue, before aggressively swinging his tongue side to side licking your sweet juice. Gosh, the way you tasted was driving him crazy. He could come each time he would eat you out. You tasted so fucking divine. Imagine the taste of your flesh. 

You cried loudly, edging yourself closer, about to snap soon.

Steve encouraged you further as he played with your bud while he vigorously licked and sucked you, swallowing anything that you gave him. He always ate you dry. He would never waste a drop.

"Come all over my mouth pretty girl. C'mon." He ordered you with a moan.

"I'm so close." You gaped with a satisfied cry as you gushed all over his mouth. You were squirting today. It was even more intense, you almost blacked out. 

Steve lapped with his tongue, like a starved man, your come trickling down his chin. He would get that too. He licked his lips before he wiped his chin with his fingers, then licked them clean. Your smell was in the air and in his nostrils. He could not be more pleased.

"I could stay like this forever, making you squirt on my face like this." He whispered, placing airy kisses on your pussy, down to your clit, his tongue darting out side to side once again.

"This is the first of many. You will not be able to walk tomorrow, sweet girl." He said with a promise, grinning up at you.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Mommytober 2022 Series-'Precious Little Star'

Day 1: Comfort Sex w Mommy!Seonghwa (Ateez)

Dom Seonghwa+ Sub!fem reader

Disclaimer: This is pure filth & does not represent Park Seonghwa accurately in any manner.

18+ Only

This is my fav day to write b/c y'all know how much I love Mommy!Seonghwa & I am going to try & not make this a whole novella!

Party inspired by @hongism Kinktober fic from 2021, the very first Mommy Seonghwa fic I've read that started my love for this fantasy.

Content Includes: Mommy!Seonghwa, slight angst?, nightmares, desperate & needy reader, praise, fluff, anxiety, honestly it's just love-making.

'S-Seonghwa??' You whispered.

'Mmm?' A deep hum vibrated from his chest, his eyes opening and blinking a few times to led the fog of sleep clear.

'I had a nightmare' your voice choked out, tears pooling in your eyes, a sheen of anxiety coating your skin.

Seonghwa immediately pulled you closer to him, 'I'm so sorry baby, come here my love' as he wrapped his arms around you, one tangled in your hair, the other gripped around your back.

'Try and go back to sleep my love, Mommy's here' He whispered into your ear, the heartbeat in his chest already calming down the ropes of tension that were bound across your chest.

It wasn't enough, you needed more.

Soft, hasty kisses were being placed across his neck as you breathed his scent in, your hips slowly grinding into him, fingers tugging at his cotton t-shirt.

'Mommy, please, please I need you' you panted in his ear, voice quivering from how desperate you were as you slid your hands under his shirt & rubbed his chest.

Seongwha let out a moan as his brain starting to put two & two together & you could feel his hardness against you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him more so you were pressed tight & he grinded his hips against yours.

'You need Mommy's cock don't you? Do you need it so badly you're willing to wake me up for it?' His eyes darkened with lust, a smirk across his face. He loved it when you were needy like this, so desperate to please, so desperate for his touch.

He was just as gone as you, except he hid it with teasing & self-control.

You clutched your fingers to his hair, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, asking for permission.

His fingers tilted your chin up, 'you didn't answer my question' the tone was soft but a warning, you could hear the edge behind it, your heart speeding up but for an entirely reason.

'I-I want your cock inside of me. I need it. Please, please Mommy, I want it so much' you whined & pleaded, nothing felt better than when Seonghwa fucked his love into you.

'Lie back for me sweetheart' he responded as he cupped your face, a small nod & a warm smile indicating you were going to get what you desired.

Clothes were strewn everywhere, barely remembering the frenzy of removing everything, all you could remember was him chuckling as you removed his shirt & pulled his pants down.

He would never tell you but these moments where he could feel the ache, your love & your desire radiating from every fibre of your body.

It was better than the air he breathed.

Seonghwa settled on top of you, your legs already wrapped around his waist, your head buried in his chest, fingernails digging into his back as you held him skin to skin, you wanted him to suffocate you with his love & care.

His hand stroking your hair, the other placed beside your head to hold himself up. You could see the love in his eyes, the comfort, his care radiating from the warmth of his skin.

A soft kiss placed upon your lips, a few pecks led to fervent need, his tongue swiping & licking around the roof of your mouth, his hard cock so close to filling you.

His hand softly, slowly, almost teasingly trailed down your body, finger pads dipping through the middle of your chest, over your belly button & swiping through your folds, the squelch of how wet you are resounding through the room.

'Oh look at you, already so wet for me and I've barely even touched you' Eyebrow raised, voice husky with sleep, a glint of humour in his face.

You shook your head feverishly 'P-please, just fuck me, fill me up, cum in me' your voice & body trembling from how badly you desired this, you surely would die if he wasn't inside of you within the next minute.

His thumb stroked your cheek, eyes filled with love, a chaste but loving kiss pressed to your mouth.

'Shh, it's okay, Mommy always spoils you don't I? he cooed, planting sloppy kisses on your collarbones to distract you as he rubbed slow circles across your clit.

Once he felt you were ready, he held himself up as he reached down to guide his cock into you, eyes pouring love and desire into yours.

A breathy hiss rumbled from his throat as he bottomed out,

'Fuck you're such a good girl for Mommy, always so tight and wet for me.'

A loud moan of surprise echoed in the room, you clutched onto his shoulders as you felt the stretch, you could feel his kisses on your nose, cheeks & forehead as he waited for you to adjust, knowing it would take a little bit more time as he entered you with little prep & all the way in.

'Mmmh, please move' you whispered, a gasp leaving your throat as he slowly moved in & out of you, his thrusts slow & languid.

You loved how special you felt when Seonghwa made love to you.

But tonight wasn't one of those nights.

Tonight you needed Mommy to fuck the pain away.

You didn't want to think, you didn't want to remember, you just wanted to feel the stretch and the heat of his cock thrusting the memory of the nightmare out of you.

You pulled his hips towards you more, rutting against him, trying to coax him inside of you more. Mewls, whines & whimpers of 'please' spoken into his chest.

Seonghwa pulled away from you, grabbed both of your hands & pinned them beside your head, a warning glare in his eyes.

'You're not being a good girl right now sweetheart, don't you want Mommy to make you feel better?' His tone was loving but you knew he was being serious.

Your bottom lip quivered, were you being too much? Your eyes becoming glassy, 'I..I'm sorry'.

Seonghwa's eyes immediately changed, brow furrowed in concerned as he immediately leaned down to kiss you, his lips breathing reassurance into you, his thumb stroking the side of your wrist.

'You're not in trouble sweetheart, I want you to relax. Just let me lead okay?'

You nodded, you took a deep breath as you loosened your ankles around his hips, the tension slowly dissipating.

Once he could feel you had settled, he slowly resumed his pace, removing his hands from your wrists & framed his elbows around your face, one supporting him, the other rubbing the side of your waist.

Soft kisses were placed on your jawline, his head buried in your neck, lips pressed against the shell of your ear.

My precious little star, mmmh? Let Mommy take care of you, let me fuck the fear away. '

Taglist: @seungminluv3 @hongthoven @8tinytings @iliana26 @mischiefsmind @vernon-s-whore @smiley-sheep @honeyhotteoks

Please comment and reblog! I hope you all enjoyed the first day.

[delirious-donna]

Heya! You doing good? Hope so. I saw your most recent oneshot you did for an anon here and honestly, I loved your writing really really much! You describe so well and it makes me feel relaxed that I can now read something with ease. Can I make a request this time, only if you aren't busy with other work. I'm a smut-type of person lol so it's gonna be Nsfw. But you can always make it fluffy smut (my favorite). I'll use the previous anon's format since it'll make things easy for you, probably.

Pairing : Natsu & Lucy

Rated : M (Smut)

Summary/Prompt : Natsu brings a beautiful bouquet of rare and unknown flowers for his wife, which he found on his way back home. What he doesn't know is that those aren't ordinary flowers, they're magical and they emit a strange but intoxicating scent from time to time. The scent arouses whoever inhales it to the point they almost go into forced heat.

Unknowingly, Lucy accepts the mysterious flowers but in a few minutes, the buds start permeating the air with their trap. Both Natsu and Lucy feel the sudden urge to jump each other like rabbits, not knowing the reason. But who cares? They can think about it later.

For now, they'll just take care of the growing need in their bodies. Natsu doesn't waste a single second before throwing Lucy over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom. Things ensue there.

Smell So Good [NaLu]

an: Hi Anon! Thanks for the prompt, I do love writing Nalu smut so this was a fun one to put together. I hope you enjoy it!

pairing: Natsu Dragneel x Lucy Heartfilia

warnings: NSFW, smut drabble, sex pollen, rough sex, unprotected sex, biting, they are married but could be considered dub con if you take into account the sex pollen stuff

Masterlist

The exotic aroma tickled her nose as she pressed her face closer to the beautiful blooms she had been gifted. An unexpectedly sweet surprise.

It would be a lie if she did not admit to instantly thinking that her husband had done something wrong, it wouldn’t be the first time that the reckless man had pre-empted her wrath over whatever latest destruction he had caused.

He couldn’t help himself, he was Natsu Dragneel after all, destruction was practically his middle name.

Lucy eyed the hand-picked bouquet, a delicate finger tracing the vivid pinks, yellows and oranges as her mind wandered to the male in the next room. Her body tingled, a sharp shudder coursing up her spine and spreading outwards to her extremities.

Molten lava pooled in the pit of her stomach, so quick to manifest that she staggered from it. Clutching the wall and dropping the flowers to the table as she became consumed with sinful images of her partner. It still felt so new and thrilling to call him her husband, even if they had been together for years.

Natsu was her first love and her soulmate.

It may have taken longer than necessary to get to where they were now, but the journey had been worth every second. Lucy well remembered the night they had wed, how gentle Natsu had been as he made love to her. Their bodies entwined so tightly, the smooth slide of his hips as he loved her with every fibre of his being and the sweet kisses between heated groans of desire.

She also remembered the times they had argued, heated words flying like sharpened weapons as they squabbled over trivial matters just as they always had done. It was not the quarrels that brought her to these specific memories, but more of how they had made up afterwards.

Her pink haired man holding her up against the nearest wall, her ankles locked around the base of his spine as he fucked into her without mercy. The sinful sound of skin slapping against skin, whimpered mewls around fingers that he held in her mouth to suck on and the brutal thrusts delivered to her sweet spot.

The blonde felt as if she were on fire, her skin prickled in slight discomfort and her only thought was to run to him – so she did.

Natsu turned at the last second, his eyes widening in alarm as she threw herself towards his muscled frame, trusting him to catch her. He grunted from the impact, more than capable of holding her weight but caught off-guard from the suddenness of her actions.

“Luce?”

His body jerked, pupils shifting to crimson and blown wide – a remnant of long-gone magic. A strong hand fisted her golden blonde hair, wrapping it around his hand before pulling it taut as he pressed his nose to her neck and inhaled deeply.

Lucy gasped, delighting in his reaction as her lower half sought to grind against the wall of muscles. Her hands roamed the wide expanse of his back, feeling the flex of his muscles as they rippled beneath her less than gentle touch.

“You smell different but so good,” he all but growled against her throat. His sharp fangs nipped at her pulse point before greedy lips devoured the tender spot until it was bruised and purple from his mouth. Without warning, he gripped Lucy’s waist and hefted her over his shoulder.

“Natsu!” she shrieked in surprise.

Not a hint of embarrassment crept over as her skirt flipped to reveal her white cotton panties to the air. Two thick fingers pressed heatedly against the obvious damp spot and she whimpered in response. He was running, long determined strides to their bedroom and the door rattled on its hinges from the thunderous slam.

Lucy found herself tumbling to the bed and a panting Dragon Slayer was quick to follow her down.

Had she been in her right mind, she might have taken a moment to contemplate what had caused this sudden sweep of desire, how aggressively it had sprung upon her and then Natsu, but that would have to wait until much later.

For now, she needed him – needed to be filled to capacity.

Fingers carded into the lush forest of pink hair, tugging him ever closer as their mouths slanted against each other. The kisses were bruising, utterly demanding as teeth clashed and tongues explored.

Metal rattled noisily as Natsu unbuckled his belt with one hand, the noise sending shivers skittering across Lucy’s slick skin. Normally she would prefer them both to be stripped naked, to revel in the delicious sight of her Dragon Slayer in all his naked glory, but there wasn’t time for that.

Her thighs felt drenched from her arousal and the guttural growl that sounded from deep within Natsu’s chest was a testament to that fact. She could never hope to hide the times she found herself worked up, his damn nose too sensitive to her unique scent and how it shifted when she was in the mood.

His pants and underwear pushed down his hips only enough for his straining erection to be freed, Lucy met the velvet encased steel with an eager hand. Arching into his touch, feverish kisses pressed to her cleavage amidst grunts of approval at her own ministrations.

The thick rope of lust and desire that bound the pair pulled achingly tight – nothing but animalistic instincts pushing them forward.

No time for words.

No patience for prolonged foreplay.

No need for preparation.

Lucy was a struck match, ignited by the fires of her love for the man braced above her. If he didn’t sink in soon she would burn into nothing more than a pile of ash. She keened for him, unable to do more than produce the whimpered noises of her need.

Natsu would never allow his beloved Lucy to suffer. He knew her intimately, knew exactly what she wanted and how much she could take. His movements were rushed as he shoved aside the flimsy sodden material of her panties. One swipe of his cock along her folds and then he was pushing forward.

Her toes curled from the sudden sensation of fullness. The satisfaction of Natsu being buried hilt-deep within her walls passed quicker than she would hope, those flames of urgency rekindling and intensifying once more.

Again, Natsu acted before Lucy had time to process what it was she needed. His own instincts took over as he set a slow but forceful pace. The drag of his cock caught against every single sweet spot within her pussy, the tip kissing against her cervix with each determined thrust.

She clawed at him, a feral animal caught and fighting for freedom but not truly wishing it. The blonde barely realised his actions, too consumed by the feel of him deep inside. It wasn’t until a scorching mouth suckled against her breast did she notice that he had pulled her top down, such force used that the straps had snapped entirely and the bra beneath was in a similar state of ruin.

His tongue laved circles around the tight bud, lips sucked the skin and teeth nipped incessantly. All whilst he lost himself to her sweetness, the walls of her centre clenching around him almost to the point of pain. They trembled from the ferocious speed of their actions, lost within a bubble of sinful delight.

It took hardly any time for Lucy to orgasm, back bowed off the mattress and fingers holding her Dragon Slayer tightly to her chest to keep him in place. His strong hands shifted to her waist, hiking the skirt higher up her body to grip at her hips.

With a wet ‘pop’, he released the suction around her pebbled nipple and reared upwards. Braced on his knees, lifting Lucy’s hips to angle her pelvis upon his lap, the pink haired male pulled her harshly upon his shaft.

The bed creaked ominously, the headboard close to snapping as his actions rutted the blonde along his length and rattled everything around them. Her fingers scrabbled into the sheets below, fisting the material as tears filled her eyes.

She needed his release.

His carmine blown pupils watched hungrily at their joining point. Fascinated by the arousal that ringed his cock and soaked over his balls and thighs.

A thumb brushed against her sensitive clit and she exploded. White light filled her vision as she screamed Natsu’s names so loudly that it would be heard in the celestial realm. Heat filled her to capacity, the intensity of her orgasm more than enough to force Natsu’s.

He roared, the tendons on his neck straining from the intensity of his release. So sensitive but continuing to languidly stroke into Lucy’s pulsing walls, keen to ensure every drop of his seed remained inside.

The haze of lust burnt away like fog on a humid day.

“I – I don’t know what happened just then,” Lucy panted through laboured breaths.

Natsu collapsed to her chest, rolling with her sweat-soaked body until she was cradled into his side. Her fingers idled lazy patterns of unknown design against his chest, paying special attention to the long healed scars that marked his torso.

“Me neither,” he agreed, “but it was fun.”

The incorrigible male buried his nose in her hair as they continued to listen to the wild thump of their hearts.

After a time they chatted about the experience they had shared and a bashful Natsu apologised for ruining yet another lingerie set much to the amusement of Lucy, she tried to look angry but it was hard to flatten the smile that wished to shine through.

“Ya know, I think it was something to do with that smell on you,” he mused quietly.

“What smell?” Lucy asked in bewilderment.

Natsu cocked his head to the side, “you smelled different and I think there is still a faint trace of it somewhere.”

He was on his feet and padding towards the door as Lucy basked in the mammoth bed on her own. She stretched out her aching limbs, enjoying the little pops from the abused muscles.

“Maybe it’s these flowers…” he called out.

Lucy looked up to see him standing in the doorway with the bouquet in hand. She watched as he lifted the beautiful blooms to his nose and sniffed.

The shiver was prominent. Comprehension dawned on the blonde’s face as her husband’s face contorted into sin incarnate, and her heart rate spiked at its meaning.

“Natsu?”

[fablesofkitkat]

pov: you and Denki are comrades in the love department (fem!reader) [re-post] (sry for deleting this)

alt. title: crushing on super straight Ochako

genre : hopeful angst/ fluff

tags: @bootyholelicker @vtte 👉👈 ...hey.

What's the number one rule for us?

That's right: never fall in love with a straight girl. So why the fuck are you crushing on Ochako who's straighter than a meter stick?

"Hey, Uraraka, wanna grab a bite to eat sometime?" You hear Kaminari ask her. You know that feeling when you like someone and every fibre of your being just knows when they're about to enter the room? Like the electric hum in the air before a thunderstorm? That's what you feel whenever she's close by. Rationality would argue the electric hum is because of Kaminari. "What do you like?"

"Hm, mochi–"

You scowled at the interaction, walking towards them and hoisting the books from Ochako and then stacking them on the boy's arms.

"Hey!"

"Whatever, Kaminari. You need more muscles anyway." You roll your eyes at him.

"Wait, Deku, she didn't heal your injuries?" Ochako was instantly making a beeline for Midoriya.

Your shoulders droop; simultaneously Kaminari let out a sigh. In that moment you two have become fallen comrades in this battle for Ochako's attention. Kami, this was pathetic.

"Wanna have lunch with me? I'll pay." Kaminari offers, shooting a flirty smile.

"Oh, so now you remember I'm a girl?" You raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the pity invitation but no." You grab half the textbooks from his arms and helped him go rounds, returning text books.

He chuckled, and then smiled witj a bit of  sheepish guilt. "I'm not making moves on you. It's for helping me with this." He gestures the textbooks in his arms.

"It's okay." Your eyes glancing at Ochako from time to time. Dammit, why was she so cute?

---

You slap yourself infront of the mirror comically. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in– You need to get over your crush. She's straight. She's really really straight. And she likes Midoriya. Hardworking, determined, awesome Midoriya. Fuck, you don't even stand a chance even if she was bi. You walk out the bathroom and rejoined the girls. Mina complains about training everyday, head resting over the sofa's edge. Kyoka stretches both her hands by intertwining them together and pushes them forward. Tsui asks Momo about her special move and Momo worryingly puts a hand on her cheek. You stare at Ochako sitting beside Tsui. She was sipping on the juicebox, clearly with something on her mind. Tsui asks about Ochako.

"Recently, my heart's all stirred about." She looks down, blushing and the air that surrounds her felt different. You could almost swear her atmosphere sparkled and is painted pink.

"It's love!" Mina blurts out.

"Yeah, you like someone Ochako." You say, shrugging. The little pinprick on your heart wails for you to stop pretending to be okay.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Ochako frantically denies, arms waving around her as if shielding her from Mina's interrogation. It doesn't. Your heart soared at the obvious lie, still holding on that there's a chance.

"Is it Midoriya or Iida?" Mina asks.

Uraraka floats and you couldn't help but grin at her cuteness. "She floated." You mumbled and the girls exchanged looks, you included, trying not to make your stupid crush obvious. The looks unanimously agreed to tease Ochako more.

"You'll get even lighter if you confess." Kyoka jeered.

"That's not it really! That's not–"

You might have died in that moment. The way she just forgot what she was saying. The girls didn't notice how she stopped mid-sentence but not you. Never you. You were always aware of her. So when she looked so lovestruck, as she stared out the window, you would bet a finger that she was staring at Midoriya. And you were so jealous, stupid jealous of everything Midoriya is. His character. His charm. His diligence. You wished at that moment you were a boy.

---

You bring a bag of goodies to Ochako's room. She didn't want to take it at first, but you showed her the grocery receipt and everything she got was just a freebie you took advantage of. Buy 1 Take 1 exists, coupons and you always always get high seeing discounts. Being middle class had taught you how to shop smartly.

"You gotta teach me next time!" Ochako says, serving you a bowl of potato chips.

"You don't need to–"

"It's okay!" Ochako giggled. "You gave me more than this anyway!"

You nodded and then nonchantly offered. "Text me when you shop for groceries, I'll come with you."

"Sure!"

You two hung out the rest of the afternoon, just talking, and when she felt a bit sleepy, you yawned. She offers for you to take a nap with her. You didn't even plan to confess but it felt like you were taking advantage of her friendship when your thoughts aren't the same with her.

"I like you." Drowsiness gone from your eyes.

"I like you too!" She goes in for a hug, cheeks brushing. You grab her shoulders to pull her away from you.

"I.. like you the way I want you to be my girlfriend."

That was stupid. You shouldn't have said anything. At all.  Because Ochako felt like every thing you did for her, every interactions, the very foundation of your friendship was simply... ingenuine.

"What..."

The seconds ticked by, she sat motionless and so did you. Tears stung in your eyes, threatening to fall. That was it. Friendship over.

"You're a good person. And I–" She starts.

"Like someone else." You finished her sentence. "Can you please not tell–"

"...of course." Ochako smiled at you sadly. "But you know, I don't think the girls will treat you any differently."

"They will." You closed your eyes; Kami, you just wanted to scream. "They will overthink every action, like maybe a hug from them will make me fall. Inadvertantly, they would exclude me out of consideration. And to be honest? I don't think I can deal with that."

A few beats of silence. Slowly, hesitantly, Ochako wraps her arms around you. "I'm sorry I broke your heart."

"Don't." You hug her back; this will be the last one for awhile. "Don't apologise for being straight because then, I would have to apologise for being... me." You broke off the hug and gave her a watery smile. "You don't mind if I don't hang out with you and the girls for awhile, do you?"

Ochako opened her mouth to say something but ultimately, she shook her head.

"Thank you, Ochako." You moved towards the door. "Next time I hang out with you, I'd be over you." You laughed, a pathetic attempt to be light-hearted because of how forlorn you sounded.

You return to your room, flopping onto your bed and then screaming into your pillow.

---

You were wolfing down on the third burger on a bench outside the dormitories. It's been three weeks since you got rejected. You were simultaneously eating, crying and reading your general studies textbook. You hear the sound of someone tripping on the pathway. Kaminari. That would've cheered you up. If only snot weren't dripping down your nose, you sniffled.

"Hey." You greeted, mouth full.

"Hey." He greets back. "You okay?"

"... not by any means, median or mode." You wiped the snot with the back of your sleeve.

That–

"Bahaha!" He laughs. "Means, median or mode!"

Your eyes narrowed. "I know that the bar of my joke's pretty low but glad you understand 'cause I suck at limbo."

He laughs again. Wait–

"How the fuck do you get them?" You stared at him, bewildered. After he calmed down, you say. "All jokes aside–"

Kaminari moves to the side, sitting on the bench to your right. What the fu– PFFFT. You guffawed. You choke on a piece of burger and then you finally spat it out. That only made you and Kaminari laugh harder.

"All jokes aside–" You wheezed. "And you moved aside–"

"The burger–" Kaminari wiped off tears from the corner of his eyes. "You choked on the burger–"

This was the first time you laughed after getting rejected. _Kami, it felt good._ It was good to laugh. He offers you a square piece of cloth; you take it and blew the snot out of your nose.

"Thank you. I'll buy you a new one."

"Don't mention it." He kept a smile on his face. "Wanted to check up on you."

"As you can see."

"First time?" He asks. Amber eyes. They usually looked lemony but when he's serious, they looked a shade darker.

"At what?"

"Getting your heart broken."

"Ah." You rolled your eyes. "I'm pretty sure the depth of my rejection goes way deeper than you getting rejected after shamelessly flirting with girls."

"I got my heart broken back in middleschool." Kaminari shares, a silly but rueful grin on his lips. "My middleschool teacher. It was impossible, of course. But she was a fresh graduate and she was young and really pretty. Like super!"

You nodded, getting pulled into the story.

"I did stupid things like if I get a 100 on a quiz, I'll confess to her." He wiggled his eyebrows, an attempt to make the conversation light. You laughed. And then he continued. "I never did. I'm not smart. But I did confess even though there was no chance. I got rejected. She told me I should ask girls my age. I kinda hated her for a bit. But now, I understand. Plus I got closure."

You nodded again.

"So, I understand. Confessing to someone impossible." Kaminari stares into your eyes like he knew; that he understood. "And if you need a group to hangout with, you should hangout with us." He stood up, offering you a hand. "And it's not a pity invitation. I need someone to tutor me, if you don't mind."

"How'd you know I like..." You trailed off, purposefully, to confirm your suspicions.

"Uraraka?" He grins. "I have a radar for who my rivals are. I never forgot you were a girl, it's just that I noticed you like her."

You take his hand. "Thanks." You hope he knows that the gratitude was not just about the hand, or the handkerchief, or the offer to hang out or the laugh you shared.

It was also for not saying anything without you having to ask. For acting the same.

---

Time is a strange thing. It can heal wounds. It can fade memories. It can make you look back on memories and laugh. A once so painful heartbreak is now only a fond memory. You were hanging out in Kyoka's room practicing, Denki on the lead guitar, Fumikage on the acoustic guitar, Jiro on vocals and bass guitar, Momo on keyboard and lastly, Bakugo on druns. You... were the mascot. An assistant of sorts. They all took a short break and you wanted to buy food for them but Kyoka insisted you stay since you've been running around for them. Kyoka went with Bakugo for the hamburgers. Fumikage with Momo for the drinks. Leaving you and Denki alone. You and the electro  user were oblivious to the tacit exhange the four members shoot each other. There was a sudden downpour of rain and the others couldn't get back so soon. Denki was fiddling with the guitar and you gravitate to Fumikage's guitar, picking the strings.

"You know how to play?" He asks.

You plucked the strings. The only song that was easy for you to learn. "And if it's a hero you want, I can save you just stay here~"

He watches the chord progression on your hand, when he finally figured it out, he strums along. You were getting into the song closing your eyes at the bridge and then the chorus you open your eyes. Amber. Staring right at you. "So stay awake for me–"

Twang. The jamming abruptly stops. Discordant note echoes. Your best friend  messed up. Denki clears his throat, embarrassed. "For a song that asks the listener to stay awake, you had me halfway falling asleep."

You roll your eyes at him. Then, he kept fiddling with the pick. His feet bounced, obviously there was something on his mind.

"What's up?"

"Remember that time I told you about my middleschool teacher." He starts. "About confessing to someone impossible. There's this girl..." He trails off, looking at his shoes. "She doesn't make me feel dumb. She's really patient. And Kami, she's really funny and smart like–" His lips stretched into a wide grin. "half of her jokes, I have to think about, and then I don't realize it, I would be up all night trying to figure out her jokes and then at 2 am I would be laughing in my room like crazy. Maybe that's why I couldn't stop thinking about her." He smiled wistfully and then, his whole demeanor shifted; an invisible weight on his shoulders. "I really like her. Not I-like-her-'cause-she's-pretty. I like her to the point–" He takes a shuddering breath. "–to the point that I wish I was a girl."

Silence.

Deathly silence.

He knew this was it. His closure. He would act the same; he confessed to you so he could move on. Still, silence.  Denki peeks at you. "Is dropping that on you so shocking?"

You stare at him weirdly, surreal. "No, but you best pick that up 'cause I'll sue you for littering."

You and Denki burst out laughing. A few beats of silence. The sound of fingertips sliding on strings. The muted beating of rain on the window, muffled by Kyoka's red drapes.

"Denki?" You call his name, a gentle lilt. He savors your voice.

"Yeah." He closes his eyes. This was it: the rejection.

"I'm bi." You softly say.

"Bilingual?" Eyes snapping open, and he looked so terribly, adorably confused.

You hold his stare and for a few moments, the reflection holds blank; time moved slow; his amber eyes shook, flaxen lashes fluttered, blinking. Realization eventually dawns on him. "Oh."