#and practically tore out her rolls

[thievinghippo]

So even though I have Ethel, whose almost level 50, I couldn't get the idea of this gal out of my head. This is Cynthia, who goes by Cyn

She's in her mid-30s, her late husband Nate was 15 years older. Shaun was a 'surely a baby will save our marriage' longshot

After she graduated college, Cyn was a pastor for a local church. She did that for seven years, until the threat of imminent nuclear war caused her to lose her faith completely. So she left the church and went to law school instead

She met Nate at some sort of military get together at her law school and they immediately hit it off. Nate thankfully was done with active service by then. They got married after only knowing each other for six months

Their relationship was rocky from the get go. Cyn was his second wife and he really was looking more for a cook and maid than an actual partner. They would have been divorced within a year if the bombs hadn't fallen

But fall they did, and to Cyn's surprise, seeing the end of the world is what brought her back to her faith. Not her faith in God. That's gone. But her faith in humanity, that there are more people who want to help than want others to suffer

So she's donning her vestments once more and has plans to start the Church of Sanctuary someday

(She's gonna romance Hancock if anyone is curious!)

[dollarbils]

can i suck it? | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your best friend, billie, wants to take a look at your new nipple piercing. so you let her..

warnings. smut, praising, degrading?, flirting, oral, hella teasing.

masterlist

“oh my god did it hurt?” billie was questioning you, as you’d just walked through the door, back from the piercing studio. she was sitting on one of the stools beside her kitchen counter.

“of course it did, idiot.” she rolled her eyes at your response. “well what did you expect?” you chuckled but she ignored the question.

“like on a scale from one to ten though.” she wasn’t looking at you, she was staring at your clothed tits. it was as if she thought the harder she stared, the more likely she was to be able to see through your shirt.

“like a seven out of ten, cause it was super fast.” you answered her question and she tore her eyes away from your tits, trying to focus on you words.

“what?” she asked, not having been paying attention to what you were saying.

“i said the pain was a seven out of ten.” you repeated, biting your inner lip as she tried not to look at your cleavage again.

“oh right, does it still hurt?” she asked, giving herself an excuse to look down at where your top started. you nodded but she didn’t seem to care. this made you chuckle again.

“do you want to see it?” the question came out too fast for you to think rationally.

“what?” her eyes were wide, her expression almost confused before she read your own.

“do you want to see my nipple piercing?” you blushed at the realisation of what you were asking her.

“fuck yeah.” she grinned, licking her teeth.

“okay.” you replied, pulling your shirt off, since you’d just been pierced, you weren’t wearing a bra. your breasts were now fully exposed in front of your best friend. and she was staring at the right one, the two dainty balls of metal seeming to hypnotise her. she didn’t say anything, but kept staring.

“well? what do you think?” you asked finally.

“it’s hot.” she said, reaching out to touch the metal on your nipple as her fingers ghosted over the skin of your breast. the small touch made you suck in a breath as she proceeded to softly touch the piercing. she looked up at you, her hand still on your nipple, reminding you of her touch. her lips pulled up to one side when she saw your reaction to her touch.

“so does it still hurt?” she asked again, almost a whisper, looking back down, now playing with it. she was practically drooling at the sight. mesmerised and unable to look away.

“a little.” you replied but it was more of a breath. your best friend was getting a little too comfortable with your tits. you didn’t mind it. but it still came as a shock when you felt her thumb swipe across your already hard nipple.

“billie.” you breathed silently.

“fuck, sorry. i got carried away.” her thumb left your nipple immediately, the loss of contact making you shiver.

“no it was, I-” you fumbled your words, trying to recover from what had just happened as she looked at you hesitantly.

“what?” she questioned after a short silence. a smile returned to your lips when you built up the courage to tell her what you wanted.

“i liked it.” her eyebrows raised slightly as you looked down at her. your breaths hot and desperate. you’d tell her anything to feel her warmth on your body again, even so small of a touch.

“yeah?” she licked her bottom lip as she eyed you. returning her hand to your breast. you nodded as she brought her wet lips to your skin.

“fuck bils,” you gasped when she bit down on the skin next to the piercing. quickly her tongue swiped across your nipple, pulling out a moan. her lips traveled away from your cleavage, and up your neck. the more she kissed you, the more you felt it down in your heat.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous, my girl.” she said before coming up to your face, lifting herself off the stool so that she was now an inch taller than you.

“your girl?” you asked quietly, looking at her eyes, although they were looking elsewhere, down at your plump lips.

“just go with it, pretty.” her lips finally landed on your own, after too long of them being everywhere else. you kissed her as she brought her hands back to your tits, being cautious with the right one. she backed you against the door of her bedroom, while fiddling with the handle and opening it. your lips only parted when you fell gently onto her bed. she removed her own shirt before coming down to kiss you again.

“baby?” the term of endearment new to you, however you answered.

“hm?” you replied.

“can i suck it?” she pleaded. and you laughed softly.

“as much as i’d like you to, you’ll have to wait a week, it’s still sensitive.” you told her and she nodded in understanding, however obviously disappointed.

“okay.” she said before closing her mouth around the other one. the shock of her actions making you moan louder than you’d wanted to. she smiled as she sucked your bare nipple, while playing with the pierced one.

“billie? do we need to talk about the fact your sucking my tits?” your breath was shaky, but she stopped her actions at your words. and you regretted them quickly.

“is it a problem?” she smirked, replaying your previous moans in her mind. you shook your head. “do you want me to continue?” she asked, her voice now sultry.

“yes.” you admitted as her lips attached to your nipple again, this time biting on the flesh as she had done back in the kitchen. one of your hands went to her hair as she continued her abuse on your left tit. it felt like she wanted to devour them.

“billie.” you moaned again as she her warm breath tickled your wet skin. she looked up at you, her eyes dark and her lips swollen. it was a fucking sight. your head fell back onto the pillow as you felt your heat tingle at the lack of friction. she brought her mouth back up to yours, licking your lip as she entered your mouth. her tongue was warm on your own, but her hands were cold on the skin of your stomach.

“fuck, we should’ve done this sooner.” she whispered on your lips as you smiled in agreement. her hands traveled further down your stomach, as she slowly undid the zip of your jeans.

“may i?” she asked, pulling slightly on the waist, indicating she wanted them off.

“yeah.” you told her, as you felt her soft hands pull the fabric off of you.

“god you’re so hot, baby.” she stared at your body, then moving her gaze to your flushed face. “been dreaming of this for too long.” she whispered on your neck as her hands toyed with your panties.

“yeah?” you asked. she quickly nodded, licking a previous spot she had kissed. “me too.” you added and she came back up to your face poking her cheek with her tongue as she looked down at you. it nearly made you explode.

“tell me about those dreams.” she challenged. her hands were now teasing your thighs, as she traced patterns on them. you hesitated for a moment, but you were so consumed with her touch you’d do anything to feel it forever.

“you would kiss me, everywhere, except for where i needed you most. but i begged, and you gave me what i wanted. because you always would.” she raised her eyebrow at your response, not expecting something so blunt.

“and what do you want?” she asked, holding back her own groans at your filthy words.

“your mouth on my pussy, sucking my clit instead of my tits.” she slowly tilted her head back, not knowing how to digest what you’d just asked of her. your best friend.

“fuck, baby. i’ll give you anything you want.” she breathed before nearly ripping off your panties, they were gone in seconds. when she dove her fingers through your folds, you gasped at the sudden sensation, gripping the sheets slightly as she played with your wetness.

“who’s got you this wet, pretty girl.” she teased, lowering herself until she was kissing the skin above your heat. “hm?” she repeated, waiting for an answer.

“you.” it was breathy, but she accepted it. and when her lips wrapped around your clit, your hands flew to her hair.

“fuck.” you whimpered as she continued sucking and licking. she was avoiding your hole, knowing it would mean you’d grow frustrated. and soon, you did. whining her name and pleading for her to do more.

“i thought this was what you wanted?” her grin was filthy as you whined again. “there’s no use in saying my name, wether it’s a whine, a moan, or even a scream. you’ve got to tell me what you want baby.” her words did nothing to help you form a sentence in your mind. you couldn’t think straight with her breath on your cunt.

“i haven’t even fucked you yet and you can’t seem to speak. is that what you want me to do?” she asked, mocking you slightly but lovingly all the same. you nodded, hoping she’d let you off easy.

“i need to hear you say it.” she moved away completely from your heat, and she came up to look at your face.

“please billie.” you were breathing quickly.

“please what?” she was biting her lip. as if she’d burst if the words came out of your mouth. her hands were rubbing your thighs again, as she placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.

“please fuck me with your tongue.”

“you’re so pretty when you beg for me. am i living up to your dreams?” you nodded and she chuckled. “you’re exceeding mine.” she whispered before dipping her head back down to your heat, and immediately running her tongue through your folds again. she didn’t waste any time when darting her tongue into your hole, gripping your thighs as they squeezed her head. she moaned at the taste of your arousal and spread your lips further with two fingers. you couldn’t hold in your moans and she was loving it. it urged her to go faster, and harder, just to hear you moan her name louder and louder. over and over again. she’d never heard her name sound so good, and it turned her on more than she’d admit.

“mh.” she groaned as you clenched around her tongue, pulling at her hair while she ate you out. she was feral for you, for your taste. and she ate you out as if she was starved. when you finally came into her mouth, she licked you clean. despite your whines of sensitivity.

“fuck billie.” you said, out of breath.

“you looked so goddamn good, when you came on my tongue.” this made you laugh softly, your cheeks flushed as she wrapped her arms around your naked body.

“i’m going to remind you in a week, when i can finally suck your tittie.” she said jokingly but you knew she was dead serious. you laughed however, warmth flooding your body as you nuzzled further into her.

note: can you tell i have a thing for best friend billie. also, thought you’d like to know where i got the inspo for this:

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE Pt. 1 // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[le-clair-de-lune]

For my lovely anon from this request: "jealous!reader if james was to be flirted with? and like how james would react to it."

Hope you enjoy it!!

"Who does she think she is?" you asked to no one in particular, you eyes trained on the hand of some bimbo who obviously doesn't understand personal space.

You had been looking for your boyfriend, wondering what had been taking so long, only to find him... preoccupied.

Sirius is the first to notice the look you're sending across the room "Uh oh" he lets out causing the others to turn to you "Someone's jealous"

Your brows furrowed together as you tore your eyes away to look at him. "Who me?" you say baffled "Why would I be jealous? I am perfectly fine" you scoffed

"Your drink would say otherwise" Marlene smirks eyeing the crumpled cup in your hand.

Your eyes widen dropping the cup on the table next to you. "Shut up" you mumble.

Lily rolls her eyes "No need to be jealous, sweetheart. Everyone knows he's yours, practically walks around with 'property of y/n' stamped on him"

"Listen here, Red" you start "I'm not jealous, got it?" you say pouring yourself another drink

Jealous pfft why would you be jealous? You are in a perfectly secure relationship with the most loyal man in the world, how could you be jealous?

The others brows raise in response, "Surrre you're not" Remus says taking a puff of his cigarette.

"I'm not! Who would I be jealous of huh? Blondie over there? The one who's been eyeing James from across the room the whole time? The one who had his quidditch number on her cheek during the game? The daft, dense, mindless little tart who is currently trying to make a move on my boyfriend" you let out with a sarcastic smile "Puhlease, I am totally unbothered"

"Riiight" Sirius is the first to speak the rest looking at you amused. "Well then good thing you're unbothered because looks like she's getting comfortable over there"

In an instant you're out of your seat, heading over there. Leaving behind a smirking group of friends.

"Anyone got popcorn?" Peter asks leaning back in his seat, ready to watch the event unfold.

---

James had just wanted a drink, now he was stuck with some random Hufflepuff girl whose name he couldn't be bothered to remember. Molly? Polly? who cares?? She was becoming way to touchy for him to care.

"Uh yeah" James nodded agreeing to whatever she had been saying whilst trying to shift away.

James' sense of discomfort eases when he sees you making his way over to him. His lips parting as he takes you in. You looked really fucking hot. You were wearing his extra jersey which, with the help of magic, you had made bigger and cinched in all the right places to create a dress. A dress that left James drooling the moment he saw you this morning, not only did it accentuate your curves but it brandished his name. Everyone knew you were his girl and Merlin did he love it.

"Hi darl-" he was cut off but your lips pressing into his. Your fingers threading through his hair tugging softly, whilst pressing closer to him. James hummed in delight pulling you into him his hands travelling down to your ass, paying no mind to girl awkwardly watching the scene. This was not the greeting he was expecting, but who was he to complain?

When you finally pulled away you giggled at his dazed state, straightening his glasses and wiping the lip gloss from his lips as he looked at you with glossy eyes.

The girl coughed, turning your attention to her “Oh sorry! did I interrupt something?” you exclaimed in faux surprise, smiling at the obviously irritated girl.

“Yes actually” she scoffed “Me and Jamie were just making hogsmeade plans, weren’t we?” she pouted looking towards him, only to find him watching you with wide eyes and a stupidly adorable smile.

Jamie? The. Fucking. Audacity.

“Oh were you?” you smirked stroking the back of James’ head “Is that true, my love?” you sent him a soft smile.

“Huh?” he murmured letting his eyes trail over your body.

You couldn’t help out but let out a laugh watching the girl scowl.

“Jamie” you gained his attention cupping his cheek.

“Yeah”

“It’s rude to not respond baby, she’s asking you something”

“Oh” he blinked “ What was the question?” he asked keeping his eyes on you.

“Whatever” The girl scoffed walking away.

James payed her no mind, pulling you back into him kissing over your face.

“You. Look. Fucking. Ethereal.” he emphasized kissing you after each word

“Mhmm could’ve seen me in something better if you weren’t distracted” you teased, pouting as you trailed a finger down his chest.

James’ head filled with ideas of what that ‘something better’ his breath catching before he caught up with your words.

“Distracted?”

“Mhm with that girl” you say eyes drifting to the Hufflepuff, who was still watching, complaining to her friends.

James smirked as he saw the look of disgust on your face. Were you jealous?

"Find something amusing?" you raised a brow, pulling away "Were you having a nice time her?"

"With Polly?" James chuckled "I couldn't give a shit about her, love."

"I thought her name wa-"

"Who gives a fuck?" James deadpanned pulling you back into him "Why would I care about her when I've got all this" he reasoned running his hands over your body. "As if she could compare to my sexy goddess of a girlfriend"

You couldn't help but smile all your worries washing away, you leaned up whispering in his ear "Yeah well your sexy girlfriend has a present for her champion boyfriend" kissing under his ear before continuing "A red lacy present"

James groaned, his pants tightened as he burrowed his head into your neck. "I should make you jealous more often"

" 'm not jealous" you roll your eyes

"Whatever you say princess"

You locked eyes with the girl over his shoulder, smirking as he kissed at your neck.

So maybe you were jealous? It doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, your sex god boyfriend only had eyes for you.

[rainrot4me]

Clean Knife, Bloody Blade

Summary: When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to help…

Characters: Jeff the Killer x Menstruating Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Menstruation, period sex, vaginal with a dildo, toy play, vaginal, mentions of organs, blood, desperation, blood kink, teasing

Words: 3.2k

Jeff was terrible at showing affection.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, you knew he did, but to others, they could’ve never guessed. He was always upset, always brooding about something minuscule that would give him an excuse to snap and shrug others off. He was terrible company. But with you, even though subtle, he was calmer and had his head more on his shoulders than normal if you were around.

A calloused hand grasped around your wrist or a half-assed peck on the cheek indicated his affection. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like he was annoyed or had no desire to love you at all, but you knew that this was him trying his hardest to show his feelings. Even though the lack of cuddles and soft compliments itched at you sometimes, Jeff more than made up for it with the bloody carcass of some guy who catcalled you lying on your doorstep or the new pistol he had swiped for you on a mission. Jeff loved you in his own way, and you were more than grateful that he even tried at all, despite what others said.

Jeff always tried his hardest for you, tried more than he cared to for anyone else. And that stood true even now, as you laid in the bed squirming your pain and groaning into his pillows. Jeff was practically clueless. He knew what was happening and that it was nature, but it didn’t make it more comfortable to fuss with you over how dramatic you were being. Or to watch you sob and moan about some blood. Jeff dealt with blood every day, he just didn’t get the theatrics.

Until you began to cry, gripping your stomach as you wore his hoodie and sobbed into his pillow, whining your little heart out. The pale killer was stunned, awkward even as he tried to console you, trying to brush the tears from your eyes. “Just go get Jack. Tell ‘em to get me something.” You whined, rolling over and tugging the covers higher onto your shoulder. 

Jeff cringed, scurrying out of his room and down the hall, shooting for EJ’s lab in the hopes that he would have a better chance at getting you to stop than he could. Normally, Jeff would’ve been annoyed, pissed that you preferred to see some other guy than him, but right now he just wanted you better.

-

“And what does she want me to do about it?” Jack groaned, shuffling through some forceps and scalpels to neatly cut open the human stomach he was working on, trying to push the leftovers of the victim’s last meal out before nibbling on a strip of the raw meat. Jeff cringed, groaning at the way it popped as it tore, squishy in the demon’s mouth. “I don’t fuckin’ know? Just figured you’d be better at this than me. All medical and shit…” The killer scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, chewing at the tear on his lip. He hated compliments, hated trying to butter someone up, but he sucked it up. 

Jack chuckled, pulling his mask back down over his chin before moving, shuffling through a cabinet nestled above his messy desk. There were all sorts of pills inside, little orange and green translucent bottles that read ‘Wright’ and scribbled doctor’s signatures. How someone was giving Jack all of this medicine Jeff didn’t care to ask, he only noticed when Jack pulled down some painkiller in a white bottle, little pink tablets falling out. 

“Ibuprofen. Give ‘er like three. Maybe some food too, bad to cramp on an empty stomach.” The commands were giving Jeff whiplash, shoving the bottle into his pocket and staring as Jack circled back to his unfinished plate. “If that doesn’t work, try telling her to masturbate.” 

Jeff almost ran into the wall on his way out. What in the actual hell? Jeff tried to laugh as he turned, thinking Jack was joking but his expression was unwavering, gnawing on the tendon of a stomach valve as he smiled. Jeff couldn’t even be mad, stunned more than anything as he let his face show his confusion, letting his mouth hang open. “It’s true. Lulu told me one time. Helps with muscle tension or something. I read up on it a bit but wasn’t relevant to me, so I didn’t care. Guess it’s useful now.” Jack smiled, turning back to his plate and shooing Jeff out, shutting the door behind him as Jeff’s eyes remained wide and stunned, finally clenching his teeth and stomping up the stairs. 

You took the pills easily, letting Jeff convince you to eat a muffin before laying back down, groaning as you gripped his arm, legs curled into yourself. He stared down at you, awkwardly gnawing away at the thought Jack had set in his head. Masturbating? While you were bleeding? There was no way that could be enjoyable. But as you nudged your head against his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and pawing at this shirt, Jeff groaned, rubbing your back. 

Normally you were a little live wire, a little ball of energy that combatted his anger perfectly. You were perfect for him, emotionally and physically. But seeing that little ball of excitement cripple and falter under your pain made him upset, angered that he couldn’t do anything more. He hated seeing you like this, no matter how reluctant he would be to admit it. Jeff wasn’t a sappy guy, far from it, but right now he would do anything to make his girl feel better.

He started slow, nervous that you’d be too overstimulated to even want him to touch you as he rolled you onto your back, pressing down to kiss along your cheeks. You lay confused, squirming as his hands rubbed your sides, gently gripping and soothing your hot skin. “Jeff… Quit…” You groaned as he pecked your lips, tucking your hair behind your ears as he tugged his hoodie over your head. “Chill out.” He nipped, pressing his rough lips against your soft ones and purposefully holding yours down, calming your reluctant body as he rubbed at your stomach, kissing against your jaw. Your skin was hot, clammy against his hands as he pushed your shirt up, you finally realizing what he was doing.

“Jeff.” You grit, shoving him off as you sat up, irritated that he would even try right now. Jeff awkwardly tried to explain, rubbing your arms as he settled you back onto the bed, standing up to grab a towel in his closet. “Listen. Jack gave me some advice or somethin’. Said jerking off helps with your cramps. We don’t gotta, but…” Jeff also reached for the small bag you kept in his closet, tugging it open and tugging out a dildo around his size, awkwardly shoving the bag back into the closet as you watched, cheeks already flushing. “Jeff, it's nasty.” You warned, bringing your knees to your chest and sliding back as Jeff stood at the edge of the bed, lying the items down before continuing to kiss along your face. “Baby, I cut people up. I think I’ll be okay.” He snickered, lying you back down onto his bed.

You nervously laid, squirming your legs together as Jeff pressed between your knees, standing at the end of the bed. He tugged up your hips, sliding the towel underneath you as he pressed his cool hands along your arms, trailing them up into your shirt as he nipped into your neck. You sighed, skin hot and cunt already bothered as you tried to pry your knees tight around his waist. This was going to be weird regardless, your anxiety about the whole thing shining through as Jeff tugged your shirt over your head, palming at your boobs until you were tugging his hands away. “Sensitive.” You hissed, letting his hands fall back at your hips.

He grit, tugging your shorts down and smiling as you shyly closed in on yourself, turning your face into the sheets as he hooked them off of your ankles. He could already see the blood stained onto your panties, your pad doing little against it. Personally, you wanted to die, embarrassment hooking your every whine as Jeff hooked under your panties, tugging them down and gently massaging your thighs, letting you calm down. It was messy, sure, but the killer knew what he was getting himself into. 

You refused to look at him, knees hugged tightly to his sides as he cleaned the blood staining your folds gently as your pelvis ached, cunt tingling under you as Jeff leaned in to kiss your lips, reassuring you coldly. “You’re fine. Stop movin’ so much. It’s just blood.” This was as close as he was getting to gentle, but his words soothed you all the same. You still hid in the sheets, letting Jeff clean your inner thighs as he massaged along your leg, efforts reluctant as you just leaked more. 

The sight of your cunt covered in blood didn’t particularly turn Jeff on, but it didn’t disgust him either. It was just you, that stupid personality and all-too-caring attitude that he loved, he didn’t really care what you looked like in turn. He didn’t really mind what was going on between your legs, just as long as he was one of them. 

“Open up. There ya go.” He chimed, reaching for the dildo and pressing it to your mouth, beckoning you to listen. You obliged, spreading your lips around the girth and licking along the underside, soaking the silicone in your saliva. Jeff didn’t force it, didn’t push it to make you gag like he loved to do, just let it soak. He smiled at you, nudging his thumb between your folds and pressing against your clit, letting you groan against the toy as he felt your knees loosen around his hips. You had never done anything on your period, always so grossed out and irritated to try, but you could already just feel the difference. It was so much more intense, clit so sensitive under the pad of his thumb that you were holding your eyes shut, hips falling and rising against the movement of the digit. It was heavenly, and Jeff noticed, smiling as you practically ground yourself up against him. “Feel good?” He teased, tugging the dildo out of your mouth and sliding it against your stomach, saliva wiping against your warm skin. You nodded, sighing as he pressed up, hips catching and stuttering against it. 

Jeff slid the dildo against your folds, blood catching on the tip and spreading against your inner thighs. He smiled, enjoying how easy it was to push his knee under your thigh and open you up more, movements too lost in the feeling of the dildo halted against your entrance. Jeff held his thumb still, letting the dildo that was a little smaller than his own size begin to push into your aching cunt, cramps pushing out of the way and slowly fading into pleasure as the toy pressed into you. You groaned, a desperate ache of pain and pleasure soaking in as the dildo snugged your walls, pressing against your sensitivity. It just felt so good, entrance aching around the size but the thumb swiping against your clit made up for it. 

When Jeff’s fingers gripped around the base of the dildo and touched your folds, you knew it was bottomed out, cunt clenching tight around the intrusion. “Took it good, yeah? Basically pulled it in.” Jeff laughed, tugging the dildo out before slowly rocking it back in, angling the silicone up so it pressed just right against your swollen walls. You whined, back instantly pushing off of the mattress and arching into the feeling, the slowness tearing you apart. “Oh, God-” You groaned, tugging the sheets hard as Jeff fucked you painfully slow with the toy, watching close at how your body moved with it, hips rolling at every push of his hand. He had found a new kink just now, unfortunately. 

The killer continued to fuck you with the dildo, contorting and tugging the length so it stretched you nicely, thumb effortlessly making you flinch and squirm as he watched blood slowly leak from your tight entrance, pooling beneath you. It was satisfying, really, the further he pushed the toy the more blood spilled. In Jeff’s sicko brain, it reminded him of stabbing someone, digging his knife in and watching the blood just run, smiling at the irony of it all. He pushed harder.

You were loud now, tears running down your cheeks as you gasped at every shove of the dildo, sensitivity riding on every ounce of pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. Jeff was lost, busy watching your cunt and your screwed-up face, and couldn’t hear your silent sobs to stop or slow down, him only pushing harder. “Jeff- God- Wait, I’m… I think- Ah-” You mewled, letting your cunt squeeze down hard against the toy, walls aching as you came, body squirming and writhing as Jeff still bobbed it in and out as your cunt gushed. It took you sitting up, palming at his shoulders before he would stop, barely even realizing you had came until you were sobbing into his shoulder, dildo slipping out of your soppy cunt as you palmed at his jeans, his boner beckoning you. “Not… not enough. Need it.” You whined, words so jumbled and head so light Jeff thought you were losing it, eyes going wide as he realized what you meant. You still ached, still coming down from your orgasm but walls needing more, needing that relief from the pain again.

“Shit- Ah- Okay. Shit.” Jeff jumbled, stuttering as you eventually tugged his cock out of his jeans and began to stroke, leaning back and tugging him closer. He barely even had time, barely could get hard before you were holding his hips and begging him to push in, blood and your own arousal seeping around the tip of his cock nestled between your folds. “Okay, yeah. Shit-” He couldn’t even think to get a condom, couldn’t tell himself you were probably too post-nut high to realize you were too overwhelmed, but with those big eyes staring at him and your flushed cheeks pouting, he couldn’t help but groan his arousal as he pressed in. 

It was warm. Like, warmer than normal, warm. And you were tight too. Your walls fluttered around his cock, swelling against the length that curved and nudged deeper than the dildo, head falling back into the mattress as you moaned out. Jeff cursed, fists gripping your hips tight as he sunk in, watching the blood pool around his cock and seep down onto the towel, your entrance twitching and tightening with every inch that entered. “Needy, huh? You’re so tight, God-” He grunted, straining as he bottomed out and let your hips squirm against his, already beckoning him to move. It was like you were in heat, body more focused on how fast you could cum again than if you even wanted to. It turned Jeff on terribly bad. This version of you was exciting.

Like the dildo, he let his hips rock, bending his knees to angle into your cunt better and sink against your g-spot so nicely, leaving your arms clasped into his hair and dragging him down on top of you. Your skin was so hot, flushed deep as he locked his lips onto yours, rocking his hips into your soppy cunt and relishing in the way it gushed around him. He pushed up, digging his knees into the mattress and letting your thighs wrap around his back, his cock sinking further down and into you as your body contorted under him. You were scrunched, clasping onto his body desperately as you chased another orgasm, stomach fluttering and hips rocking with every movement. “So good- Can’t… Can’t hold on- Faster-” You huffed between slobber-filled kisses, letting Jeff dig his palms into the sheets underneath you and push his knees in deeper, letting his hips pull up much further and sink down just as deep. You were practically purring, mouth hanging open as Jeff bit into your jaw, nibbling the skin as he panted against you, shoving his cock into the hot glove of your cunt. 

“Beg me to fuck you and you’re still not satisfied. Jesus, woman.” Jeffrey grit through pants, leaning back off of you and digging his hands into your waist, tugging his legs further apart to open yours more before snapping his hips into your warmth, hearing the loud squelch and squirts as you writhed, moaning into your hands. Jeff smiled, clawing his hands to your tits and palming hard, letting you scratch and whine at his grasp about sensitivity and to let off, but he refused. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed that the ache in your pelvis practically vanished, pleasure rippling through your body as you arched and squirmed against the cock quickly pressing down against every inch of your gummy walls. You were cumming again, sobbing as you scratched Jeff’s muscled arms and held on tight, letting his cock fuck you through your desperate orgasm and fight against the overstimulation that crept through your body. 

“There ya go, just like that. Don’t even gotta worry.” Jeff mewled, letting his cock sink deep and rest in your cunt, your walls clenching hard around him, fluttering as he twitched and ached inside of you, restraining to cum until your sobs quieted, little whines and gasp all that was left. “Did so good.” He grits as he tugged his cock out, the length soaked and stained in your blood and arousal, fist quick to grasp around and pump himself over you, watching as you panted with heavy eyes. The blood stained his hand, smearing as he came against your folds, letting his seed run and mix with your blood as he groaned, palming at your thighs. “Fuck.. yeah…” He smiled, rubbing his tip against your clit for good measure before tugging back, scooping the messy towel out and cleaning what he could. 

You were too sleepy to hear the bath run in the room over, body still twitching and relaxing as your cramps stayed at a dull roar now, pleasure overtaking them. Jeff scooped you up, his body bare now as he stripped the rest of your clothes, cutting the faucet off before sliding you both into the large tub, letting your back rest against his chest. You mewled, leaning back against his shoulder and letting your eyes flutter shut, rubbing the arms that wrapped around your waist. “Thank you.” You sighed, the hot water soothing your body nicely. “It was hot, so worth it.” Jeff chuckled, tucking your hair out of the way as he kissed your forehead. 

You knew he cared. He had strange ways of showing it, ever reluctant to become soft and vulnerable. But you relished the moments where he got close, like now. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the most affectionate, sappy guy to have, but it was more than enough for you. 

Even if he was terrible at showing affection, the dedication to you more than paid its part. 

This was a request by @bubbleduckie!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[fioredeciliego]

How to Kidnap a Mafia Boss: A Step by Step Guide - Karina x Fem!Reader

13K Words

Now, her night had taken a turn for the worse. Nina’s ex-boyfriend, who had the temperament of a rabid raccoon, had shown up uninvited, creating a scene that had them fleeing the club like fugitives.

“Nina, you owe me for this,” Y/N muttered under her breath, fumbling with her car keys as she fast-walked toward what she thought was her car. Her hands shook slightly as she unlocked the door. She was just grateful Nina had ditched the ex in time for her to make a clean getaway.

The parking garage was far too quiet, the kind of quiet that makes every sound—like the echo of her own footsteps—seem amplified and sinister. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, her paranoia fueled by the faint scuff of shoes against concrete somewhere behind her.

"Just get to the car, Y/N," she whispered, clutching her phone in one hand and her tiny purse in the other.

She glanced over her shoulder and swore she saw movement in the shadows. Her heartbeat spiked. Nope, nope, nope, she thought, practically throwing herself into the driver’s seat. She slammed the door shut and locked it, her breath coming out in shallow gasps.

Fumbling, she jammed the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Without hesitation, she backed out of the space and sped toward the exit ramp, desperate to put as much distance as possible between her and the creepy parking garage.

As the cold night air seeped through a cracked window, she exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. "Okay, Y/N, you’re safe. It’s fine. Just head home and—"

A muffled groan cut through the air like a knife.

She froze, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but it was too dark to see much of anything.

Another groan, this time louder.

Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears. Her mouth went dry as she slowly turned her head, half-expecting to find a horror movie monster or a deranged hitchhiker. Instead, her eyes landed on a figure slumped in the back seat—a woman with sharp, striking features, her arms bound tightly behind her back and a gag over her mouth.

Y/N’s scream tore through the car, shrill and panicked.

The woman jolted slightly, her eyes narrowing in annoyance rather than fear. She let out a muffled sound through the gag, which only made Y/N scream again.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! What—who—why—WHAT?!” Y/N shrieked, scrambling for her phone and nearly dropping it in her lap.

The woman in the back seat tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, her bound hands twitching slightly as if to say, Calm down.

“Calm down?! You’re tied up in my back seat! What is happening?!” Y/N babbled, her voice pitching higher with every word.

The woman let out another muffled groan, this one decidedly annoyed, and jerked her head toward the gag as if to say, Take it off.

Y/N shook her head wildly. “Oh, no, no, no. You could be some kind of psycho! What if this is a trap? What if you’re a mob boss or something?”

The woman rolled her eyes so hard Y/N swore she could hear it. She let out a string of muffled sounds that were probably curses, her gaze sharp and exasperated.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to process the surreal situation. She looked from the woman to the road ahead, realizing she was still idling at the bottom of the parking ramp. She reached for the gear shift, her hands trembling.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, “you’re going to pull over and figure this out. You’re not a criminal. You’re not involved in some weird mob thing. This is just... a misunderstanding.”

--

The city lights faded behind Y/N as she sped down a quiet back road, her mind a chaotic swirl of questions, expletives, and mounting panic.

“What the hell do I do? What do I do?” she muttered, glancing nervously at the woman in the back seat. The woman—still bound and gagged—looked more annoyed than terrified, her sharp eyes tracking Y/N like a hawk.

Y/N’s car sputtered to a stop on the shoulder of the road. She threw it into park and buried her face in her hands, trying to suppress the urge to scream again. She failed miserably.

“Okay, okay, let’s just... think this through,” she said aloud, more to herself than to her mysterious passenger. She turned in her seat, facing the woman.

“So,” she began, her voice wavering, “who... who are you? And why are you tied up? Blink once if you’re in danger. Blink twice if—”

The woman blinked. Once.

“Oh god.” Y/N clutched her chest, the reality of her situation sinking in. “Are you serious right now? Am I, like, an accessory to a crime? Did I just become an accomplice?!”

The woman’s exasperated groan brought Y/N back to the present. She motioned with her head toward the gag, her eyes practically screaming, Take it off, you idiot.

Y/N recoiled. “Oh no, you don’t! What if you’re, I don’t know, dangerous? You could be a ninja or... or an assassin!”

The woman’s expression darkened. She slumped against the seat and let out a muffled sigh that sounded suspiciously like Oh, for the love of...

Y/N’s guilt began to outweigh her paranoia. After all, the woman didn’t look like a ninja. And her sharp, tailored suit—now wrinkled and slightly torn—was more “CEO at a power brunch” than “trained killer.”

“Fine,” Y/N said with a reluctant sigh, reaching into the back seat. “But if you try anything funny, I’ll... I’ll—”

The woman’s raised eyebrow stopped her mid-sentence.

“Right, you’re tied up,” Y/N mumbled, her cheeks flushing.

She fumbled with the gag, finally pulling it free.

The woman coughed softly before licking her lips and fixing Y/N with a level stare. Then, with a voice that was calm, low, and laced with biting sarcasm, she said, “So, what’s your plan, kidnapper?”

Y/N froze. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” the woman replied, her tone far too casual for someone in her predicament. “You abducted me. What’s your next move? Ransom? Interrogation? A dramatic villain monologue?”

“I didn’t abduct you!” Y/N protested, her voice climbing. “I-I didn’t even know you were in the car! This is all... this is just one big misunderstanding!”

The woman’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement breaking through her otherwise unimpressed expression. “Sure. A misunderstanding. Totally normal to flee a parking garage with a bound woman in your back seat. Happens all the time.”

Y/N groaned, slumping forward until her forehead hit the steering wheel. “This cannot be my life right now.”

--

An hour later, they were sitting in a dimly lit room in the sketchiest motel Y/N could find. The neon sign outside flickered ominously, casting the word “VACAN_” in garish red light across the peeling wallpaper.

Jimin—she had introduced herself with a sly smile and zero context—sat at the rickety table, sipping tea she had somehow brewed with the motel’s ancient coffee maker. She looked completely at ease, as if she weren’t a recently liberated captive but rather a guest at a particularly questionable Airbnb.

Meanwhile, Y/N paced the room, her phone clutched in one hand as she frantically Googled things like what to do when you accidentally kidnap someone and is returning a kidnapped person illegal?

“You’re going to wear a hole in that carpet,” Jimin remarked, her tone light.

“Not helping!” Y/N shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her growing hysteria. “I don’t even know how I got into this mess! One minute I’m running from Nina’s psycho ex, and the next... you! In my car! What were you even doing there?!”

Jimin tilted her head, her dark eyes glittering with mischief. “Would you believe me if I said I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Y/N stopped pacing and leveled her with a look. “No. No, I would not.”

“Smart girl.” Jimin smirked, taking another sip of tea.

Y/N groaned and flopped onto the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. “I just want my normal, boring life back.”

“Boring, huh?” Jimin leaned back in her chair, studying Y/N like she was some fascinating puzzle. “Maybe this is fate. You needed a little excitement, and I needed... well, a ride, apparently.”

“Excitement?” Y/N sat up, incredulous. “This is not excitement. This is a nightmare! I’m pretty sure I’m committing multiple felonies right now.”

Jimin laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpectedly charming. “Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“That’s not comforting!” Y/N buried her face in her hands.

Jimin’s smile widened, and for the first time that night, there was a flicker of genuine softness in her expression. “You’re kind of funny, you know that?”

Y/N peeked at her through her fingers. “Funny? Seriously?”

Jimin shrugged. “A little. I mean, you’re clearly in over your head, but you’re trying. It’s... endearing.”

Y/N groaned again, flopping back onto the bed. “Kill me now.”

“No need for dramatics,” Jimin said with a chuckle, standing and stretching. “You’ve already got a mafia boss in your motel room. Isn’t that enough excitement for one night?”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “Mafia boss?! Wait, you’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

But Jimin didn’t answer. She just smiled, enigmatic and infuriating, and turned back to her tea.

Y/N sank back against the pillows, her mind spinning. Whatever this was, it was far from over.

--

The motel room was as depressing as a B-movie horror set. The peeling wallpaper reeked of mildew, the flickering ceiling light buzzed ominously, and the lone bed looked like it had seen one too many questionable nights. Y/N, still in a full state of panic, paced back and forth while Jimin lounged on the creaky chair by the window.

“You’re hiding from people who work for me, by the way,” Jimin remarked, scrolling lazily through her phone. “In this dump. Bold strategy.”

Y/N froze mid-step, turning to glare at her unwelcome passenger. “Could you, like, not right now? I’m trying to figure out how to fix this!”

Jimin’s gaze flicked up from her phone, one elegant eyebrow arching. “Fix it? Sweetheart, you’ve kidnapped the wrong person. This is less ‘fixable’ and more... what’s the word? Oh, right—impossible.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” Y/N snapped, clutching her phone in a death grip.

“Touchy,” Jimin mused, her lips curving into a small smirk. “But seriously, if you’re going to go on the run, maybe aim for somewhere a bit... nicer? This place screams ‘criminal on the lam.’” She gestured around the room, her expression faintly disgusted.

Y/N groaned, throwing herself onto the edge of the bed and burying her face in her hands. “Why is this happening to me? I didn’t even mean to kidnap anyone!” She peeked through her fingers, narrowing her eyes at Jimin. “And you seem weirdly okay with this.”

Jimin shrugged, tucking her phone into her pocket. “Not my first rodeo.”

“What does that even mean?” Y/N asked, her voice pitching higher in disbelief.

Before Jimin could answer, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, sighed, and tapped out a quick reply.

“Are you seriously texting right now?” Y/N asked, incredulous. “Who are you even talking to?”

“Oh, just a couple of people who are probably freaking out because I’ve been kidnapped.” Jimin’s voice was laced with amusement, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Wait, WHAT?!” Y/N shot up, panic written all over her face. “You’re telling people where we are? Are you trying to get me arrested—or worse?!”

Jimin laughed, a sound so carefree it felt wildly out of place in their current situation. “Relax, I’m not giving them our location. I’m just telling them I’m alive. Gotta keep my people loyal, you know?”

Y/N flopped back onto the bed, muttering to herself. “I’m so dead. This is how I die. In a disgusting motel with a mafia boss who probably thinks this is all a joke.”

Jimin grinned. “It kind of is, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not!” Y/N shot back, her voice cracking. “This is serious! I have no idea how to deal with... with this!” She gestured wildly in Jimin’s direction.

Jimin leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on the rickety table. “Here’s an idea: stop panicking. Order some food. Maybe a drink. It’s not like you can do much else tonight.”

Y/N stared at her, aghast. “Food? You want to order food? You’re a hostage!”

Jimin gave her a pitying look. “Honey, you’re the one who took me. You’re not exactly following the hostage manual either. Might as well make the best of it.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Jimin picked up the room phone and dialed.

“Wait, are you seriously calling room service?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with both disbelief and awe.

Jimin winked. “Yep. Can’t think on an empty stomach.”

--

Twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. Y/N jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. “What if it’s the police? Or... or your mafia people?!”

Jimin rolled her eyes. “It’s room service. Chill.”

Y/N crept toward the door and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, it was just a bored-looking teenager in a rumpled motel uniform holding a tray of food.

She opened the door just enough to grab the tray, then slammed it shut and turned to Jimin. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, setting the tray down.

“Thank you,” Jimin said with a grin, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite.

Y/N watched her, torn between frustration and begrudging admiration for how unfazed Jimin was by... well, everything.

“Do you, like, care that you’ve been kidnapped?” Y/N finally asked, sitting back down on the bed.

Jimin considered this as she chewed, then swallowed. “Not really. You seem harmless, and this is more entertaining than most of my meetings.”

Y/N gaped at her. “Meetings?”

Jimin smirked. “What, you think mafia bosses just sit around counting money and making threats all day? We have schedules, sweetheart. Agendas. Conference calls.”

Y/N blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” Jimin teased, her tone maddeningly vague.

Y/N groaned, flopping onto the bed again. “I give up. You’re insane.”

“And you,” Jimin said, pointing at her with the remains of her sandwich, “are in way over your head. But hey, at least the food’s decent.”

Y/N didn’t reply, opting instead to stare at the ceiling and wonder, for the hundredth time, how her life had spiraled so wildly out of control.

In the corner, Jimin leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

--

The early morning sunlight filtered through the grimy motel blinds, but Y/N hadn’t slept a wink. She sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, staring at Jimin, who was peacefully sprawled out in the lone chair, arms crossed and head tilted back as she napped.

“How is she this calm?” Y/N muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She clutched her phone, debating what to do. Call the cops? Would they even believe her? “Hi, yes, I accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss, can you come pick her up?” Yeah, no.

Jimin stirred, a faint smile playing on her lips as she stretched. “You’re a loud thinker, you know that?” she murmured without opening her eyes.

Y/N jumped. “How are you so chill right now? Aren’t you supposed to be mad? Or scared? Or... I don’t know, plotting your revenge?”

Jimin opened one eye lazily. “Mad? No. Scared? Not really. Revenge?” She chuckled, sitting up and fixing Y/N with a playful smirk. “Too much effort. Besides, this whole thing is kind of hilarious.”

Y/N gawked at her. “Hilarious? I could go to prison for this!”

“Only if you get caught,” Jimin replied, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve.

Before Y/N could respond, a low rumble caught her attention. She froze, her ears straining.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Jimin’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes flicked toward the window. “Oh, that? Probably my people.”

Y/N shot to her feet, her heart pounding. “Your people?!” She darted to the window and peeked through the blinds. Sure enough, three black SUVs were pulling into the parking lot, their dark-tinted windows making them look even more menacing.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Y/N chanted, pacing in a tight circle. “They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me, and it’s all your fault!”

Jimin stood, stretching leisurely. “My fault? You’re the one who kidnapped me, remember?”

Y/N whirled on her, panic in her eyes. “What do we do? What do I do? Do I hide? Do I run? Do I—”

“You do nothing,” Jimin interrupted smoothly. She walked to the door, cracking her neck like she was preparing for a morning jog.

“What do you mean, nothing? They’re probably armed! They’re going to drag me out of here and—and—”

“Relax.” Jimin turned the lock on the door and opened it wide, stepping out onto the small concrete stoop.

“Relax?! You want me to relax?!” Y/N hissed, peeking out from behind her.

The SUVs parked in a neat row, and the doors swung open in unison. Out stepped several sharply dressed men and women, their expressions grim as they approached.

“Boss,” one of them said, inclining his head respectfully. “Are you okay? We’ve been looking for you all night.”

Jimin crossed her arms and gave them a lazy smile. “I’m fine. Just a minor detour.”

The man’s eyes flicked to Y/N, who was still half-hiding behind the doorframe. His expression darkened. “Is this the... person responsible for your detour?”

Y/N let out a strangled squeak, shrinking back. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”

The man took a step toward her, but Jimin held up a hand. “Stand down,” she said, her voice calm but commanding.

“But, boss—”

“Stand. Down.”

The man hesitated before nodding and stepping back, though his glare toward Y/N didn’t soften.

Y/N blinked, peeking out fully now. “Wait, you’re not going to...?” She mimed a vague slicing motion across her neck.

Jimin turned to her, her grin wicked. “Not today.”

“Why not?!” Y/N blurted before she could stop herself.

Jimin stepped closer, leaning in until her face was just inches from Y/N’s. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she said softly, “Because this is way too entertaining.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Entertaining?! That’s why you’re not letting them... them—”

“Whack you?” Jimin supplied helpfully.

“Yes!”

Jimin laughed, turning back to her people. “We’ll be leaving soon. Go make yourselves useful.”

The group nodded and retreated back to the SUVs, though not without a few lingering glances at Y/N, who was still frozen in place.

Jimin turned back to her, hands on her hips. “See? All under control.”

Y/N gaped at her. “You’re insane.”

Jimin grinned. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

--

The silence in the car was thick, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional squeak of the windshield wipers. Y/N kept her focus glued to the winding road ahead, her fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The events of the last 24 hours were a chaotic blur, but somehow, her current predicament felt even more surreal.

Beside her, Jimin reclined in the passenger seat with an air of complete relaxation. She’d kicked off her expensive heels and propped one foot on the dashboard, her other leg crossed lazily over her knee. She looked more like a co-pilot on a carefree road trip than a mafia boss who’d just been accidentally kidnapped.

"So, this is your grand escape plan?" Jimin’s voice broke the silence, smooth and laced with amusement.

Y/N shot her a side-eye glance. "What are you talking about?"

Jimin gestured vaguely at the car’s interior. "This—this charming rust bucket of yours. Bold choice for a getaway vehicle. Very… inconspicuous."

Y/N bristled, her grip on the wheel tightening. "It’s my car. Not all of us can afford bulletproof limousines and private jets, okay?"

Jimin tilted her head, smirking. "I wasn’t judging. It has character. Kind of like you."

"Gee, thanks," Y/N deadpanned, focusing on the road.

After a beat of silence, Jimin began tapping her fingers against the passenger window. "What’s with all the fast-food wrappers on the floor? Is this a mobile trash can or a car?"

Y/N gritted her teeth. "Excuse me for not having time to detail it before my accidental kidnapping."

"Touché," Jimin quipped, nodding with mock solemnity.

Y/N’s patience was wearing thin, but before she could snap, Jimin leaned forward and began fiddling with the ancient radio dials. Static crackled through the speakers.

"Don’t touch that!" Y/N swatted Jimin’s hand away, nearly swerving off the road in the process.

"Relax!" Jimin raised her hands in surrender, laughing. "You act like I was going to break it."

"It barely works as it is!" Y/N hissed, steadying the car.

Jimin leaned back in her seat, unbothered, and gave a long, exaggerated sigh. "Do you even have decent music in this thing, or is it just sad pop songs and static?"

"That’s it." Y/N glared at her. "New rule: no touching the radio. In fact, don’t touch anything."

Jimin smirked. "Kidnapper rules? That’s adorable."

"Adorable?" Y/N sputtered. "What about this is adorable?!"

Jimin shrugged, feigning innocence. "I’m just saying, you’re kind of terrible at this whole kidnapping thing. It’s almost endearing."

"Endearing?" Y/N echoed, incredulous. She yanked the wheel to make a turn, the car lurching slightly.

Jimin casually braced herself with one hand on the dashboard, the picture of calm. "Well, yeah. You’re panicking, floundering, and driving like you’re in a driver’s ed class. But you’re trying your best. It’s cute."

Y/N slapped a hand over her face. "This can’t be happening," she muttered to herself.

Jimin reached down and grabbed an open bag of chips from the console, inspecting the label. "Gas station snacks? Really? Do you ever eat anything that wasn’t fried in questionable oil?"

"Excuse me for not catering this little adventure!" Y/N snapped, snatching the chips away. "I’m a regular person, okay? Do mafia bosses usually have Yelp reviews for kidnappings?"

At that, Jimin burst into laughter—a real, genuine laugh that filled the small car. It caught Y/N off guard, and for a split second, she almost smiled. Almost.

"You’re funny," Jimin said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"No, I’m panicking," Y/N corrected, glaring at the road.

Jimin waved her hand dismissively. "Same thing, really. But seriously, you’ve got to loosen up. It’s not like you’re in danger."

Y/N whipped her head around, eyes wide. "Not in danger?! You’re a mafia boss! There are probably a hundred people looking for you right now, and when they find me—"

"They’re not going to hurt you," Jimin interrupted calmly. "You’re with me. And besides…" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "This is way too entertaining."

Y/N stared at her, speechless, before letting out a frustrated groan. "Unbelievable."

Jimin settled back into her seat, a satisfied smirk on her face.

For a while, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine. Y/N’s irritation simmered as she focused on the road, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Sure enough, when she glanced over, Jimin was staring at her, her chin resting in her hand.

"What now?" Y/N demanded.

"Just wondering," Jimin mused, her tone playful, "what’s your next move, kidnapper?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily thrown off. She had no idea. She was completely out of her depth, and it must have shown on her face because Jimin’s smirk widened.

"Thought so," Jimin said with a chuckle.

"Can you stop talking for five minutes?" Y/N snapped.

"Depends," Jimin replied smoothly. "Do you have snacks that aren’t chips?"

Y/N groaned, gripping the wheel tighter. "I swear, you’re going to drive me insane before this is over."

"Challenge accepted," Jimin said brightly, popping a chip into her mouth with a grin that was equal parts infuriating and charming.

--

The neon sign of "Dottie’s Diner" flickered against the darkening sky, its hum faintly audible as Y/N begrudgingly parked the car.

“Happy now?” she muttered, turning to Jimin, who was already fixing her hair in the passenger-side mirror.

“Famished, actually,” Jimin replied with a grin, stepping out of the car as if she owned the place.

Y/N followed reluctantly, her nerves on edge as she scanned the small, homey diner. Booths lined the walls, filled with truckers and locals enjoying their meals under dim yellow lights. The smell of frying bacon and freshly baked pie lingered in the air, momentarily soothing Y/N's frazzled mind.

Jimin, however, walked in with the confidence of someone who had never been thrown into a dumpster fire of chaos. She slid into a booth by the window, gesturing for Y/N to join her.

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N grumbled, sitting down anyway.

“That’s cute,” Jimin said, waving a waitress over. “Two menus, please.”

The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a friendly smile, handed them menus. Jimin’s demeanor shifted instantly as she flashed the woman a dazzling smile.

“Hi, Dottie?” Jimin asked, glancing at the nametag.

“Yep, that’s me!” the waitress replied, beaming.

“Lovely diner you’ve got here,” Jimin said smoothly. “Feels like home. The kind of place where the food isn’t just cooked—it’s made with love.”

Dottie blushed, clearly charmed. “Well, you’re too sweet! What can I get for you?”

“I’ll take a cheeseburger, medium rare, with extra pickles, and… a slice of your famous apple pie for dessert,” Jimin said. She leaned in slightly, her voice conspiratorial. “I can tell it’s famous. Bet you make it yourself.”

Dottie laughed, waving a hand. “Oh, stop. You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jimin murmured with a wink, handing the menu back.

Y/N gawked at the scene, her mouth slightly ajar, as Dottie turned to her.

“And for you, hon?”

“Uh… grilled cheese and fries, I guess,” Y/N said, shooting Jimin a pointed look.

“Coming right up!”

--

The meal arrived quickly, and Y/N had to admit it was better than the gas station chips. Jimin seemed genuinely relaxed, savoring her burger with almost childlike enthusiasm.

“Okay, I’ll give you this,” Y/N admitted, stabbing a fry with her fork. “This is good.”

“See?” Jimin said around a mouthful of food. “I know how to pick ‘em.”

But the peace didn’t last long.

The bell over the door jingled, and Y/N glanced up to see a group of men entering the diner. They were dressed in dark jackets, their sharp gazes scanning the room until they landed on Jimin.

Y/N froze, her stomach plummeting. “Uh… friends of yours?”

Jimin’s face didn’t flinch, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Rivals,” she muttered under her breath.

“What do we do?” Y/N hissed.

Jimin casually wiped her hands on a napkin, leaning back in her seat. “We eat.”

“What—are you serious?!”

“Relax,” Jimin said, her tone calm but firm. “They’re not going to make a scene. Not here.”

But as the men approached their booth, Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air. One of them, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, stopped just short of their table.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. “Yu Jimin. Didn’t expect to see you slumming it in a place like this.”

“Han,” Jimin said coolly, leaning back in her seat. “What a surprise. I’d offer you a fry, but I don’t like sharing.”

Han’s gaze shifted to Y/N, his smirk widening. “And who’s this? A new recruit? She doesn’t look like your type.”

“I’m not—” Y/N began, but Han cut her off.

“She’s cute,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “Bit out of your league, though.”

Y/N’s face flushed, though whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t tell. She shot Jimin a nervous glance, but the mafia boss’s expression remained impassive, her fingers drumming lightly on the table.

“Leave her out of this, Han,” Jimin said, her voice low and edged with warning.

Han chuckled. “Touchy, aren’t we? You’re usually better at keeping your cool.”

“Don’t push me,” Jimin replied, her tone deadly calm.

Y/N, feeling cornered and frustrated, grabbed her plate of fries and, without thinking, flung it at Han’s chest.

The diner fell silent as everyone processed what had just happened. A fry slid down Han’s jacket, leaving a greasy trail in its wake.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jimin muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oops,” Y/N said weakly.

Han’s expression darkened, and he reached for Y/N, but Jimin was faster. She grabbed her burger and hurled it at his face.

“GO!” Jimin shouted, dragging Y/N out of the booth as chaos erupted around them.

Plates flew, ketchup bottles exploded, and the entire diner descended into a cacophony of shouting and clattering dishes. Y/N ducked as a slice of pie soared past her head, hitting the wall with a wet splat.

“This is all your fault!” Y/N yelled as she crouched behind the counter.

“You started it!” Jimin shot back, grabbing a chair and using it as a shield.

“You could’ve done something diplomatic!”

“Diplomacy doesn’t work on people like Han!”

Han’s men weren’t faring much better, slipping on spilled drinks and dodging flying condiments. Dottie, armed with a rolling pin, chased one of them out the back door.

When the distant wail of sirens became audible, Han growled in frustration. “This isn’t over, Jimin,” he snarled, retreating with his men.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin called after him. “Go cry about your dry-cleaning bill!”

--

Back in the car, Y/N slammed the door shut and turned to Jimin. “What the hell was that?!”

Jimin smirked, brushing a smear of ketchup off her sleeve. “A bonding experience.”

“That was not bonding!”

“Come on,” Jimin teased. “Admit it—you had fun.”

Y/N glared at her, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad,” Jimin replied, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Y/N groaned, starting the engine. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jimin said, her tone smug.

And as much as Y/N wanted to argue, she didn’t.

--

The abandoned warehouse was dimly lit, its broken windows casting scattered rays of moonlight across the dusty floor. Y/N glanced around nervously, her sneakers crunching against shattered glass.

“This place screams ‘horror movie,’” she muttered, tugging her jacket closer.

“It’s functional,” Jimin replied nonchalantly, already pacing as she dialed her phone. “And nobody will find us here, so stop complaining.”

Y/N huffed, leaning against a rusted metal beam. “I’m not complaining. I’m stating facts. This is where people go to get murdered in every crime show ever.”

Jimin gave her a smirk, holding up a finger as the line connected. She began speaking in rapid Korean, her tone calm yet authoritative.

Y/N squinted, trying to make sense of the conversation. She couldn’t understand the words, but Jimin’s voice carried the kind of confidence that only made her more suspicious.

“What are you saying?” Y/N whispered. “You’re not calling someone to kill me, right?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, continuing her conversation.

Panic bubbled up in Y/N’s chest. Her eyes darted around the room for a place to hide. Spotting an old crate stacked behind a few barrels, she crouched behind it, clutching a broom she found leaning against the wall.

Jimin glanced over her shoulder mid-conversation, her lips twitching as she noticed Y/N’s not-so-stealthy retreat.

“Yeah,” Jimin said into the phone, her voice deliberately louder. “She’s a bit of a handful. Might have to deal with her sooner rather than later. You know how liabilities can be.”

Y/N’s grip on the broom tightened.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jimin continued, her tone now dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll take care of it personally. Quiet and clean.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. Her heart pounded in her chest. She bit her lip to keep from gasping audibly.

Jimin ended the call, slipping her phone into her pocket. “Guess I should get started,” she said to no one in particular, her voice carrying a playful lilt.

That was enough for Y/N. She shot up from behind the crate, wielding the broom like a makeshift sword. “Stay back!” she yelled, brandishing it wildly.

Jimin froze, her eyes darting to the broom and then to Y/N. Her expression was unreadable for a moment before her lips curled into a grin.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked, barely holding back laughter.

“Don’t act innocent!” Y/N yelled, lunging forward. “I heard you! You were talking about disposing of me!”

Jimin stepped back gracefully, dodging the wild broom swings with infuriating ease. “Disposing of you? Really?”

“Don’t play dumb!”

Y/N swung again, but the broom’s bristles hit a low-hanging pipe with a clang. The momentum sent her off balance, and she stumbled forward, landing unceremoniously on the floor with a thud.

Jimin doubled over, laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “Oh my god,” she gasped between breaths. “You’re— you’re the least threatening kidnapper in history!”

Y/N groaned, her face burning as she scrambled to her feet. “You’re the least grateful kidnappee in history!”

Jimin wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still chuckling. “You really thought I was going to ‘dispose’ of you? That’s adorable.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at her. “Excuse me for being cautious! You’re a mafia boss!”

“And you’re a terrible judge of tone,” Jimin shot back, smirking.

Realizing how ridiculous the situation was, Y/N’s glare softened into a reluctant smile. “Okay, maybe I overreacted.”

“Maybe?”

“Fine, I overreacted. But you shouldn’t mess with me like that!”

Jimin shrugged, still grinning. “It was too easy. And worth every second.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you haven’t abandoned me,” Jimin quipped, offering Y/N a hand to steady herself.

For a brief moment, their hands lingered. Y/N quickly pulled away, clearing her throat. “Let’s just focus on not dying tonight, okay?”

“Deal,” Jimin said, the teasing glint in her eyes not fading one bit.

--

The warehouse was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the distant city and the occasional rustle of a rat in the shadows. Y/N sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor, staring blankly at the wrapper of a granola bar she’d just eaten, her mind still trying to process the last 48 hours. Across the room, Jimin leaned against a tall crate, her face half-illuminated by the flickering overhead light.

The silence stretched between them, awkward and strange. Usually, Jimin would be firing off sarcastic quips or finding creative ways to tease Y/N about her bumbling attempts at “kidnapping.” But tonight, she was uncharacteristically quiet, her expression distant.

Y/N glanced at her, curiosity gnawing at her like a persistent itch. “Hey,” she said hesitantly.

Jimin didn’t respond.

Y/N cleared her throat, louder this time. “Earth to mafia boss. You okay?”

Jimin blinked as though coming out of a trance. “Hmm? Yeah. Fine.”

Y/N frowned, unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. You’re not even making fun of me right now. Should I be worried?”

That earned a faint chuckle, but it was hollow, lacking its usual bite. Jimin slid down the crate, sitting with her knees pulled up slightly and her arms draped over them. She stared at the floor, tracing invisible patterns with her finger.

“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, her voice quieter than Y/N had ever heard it.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Y/N pressed, tilting her head. “I mean, it’s weird seeing you not... smug.”

Jimin glanced at her, a flicker of her usual sass returning. “Careful, you almost sound concerned.”

Y/N shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Hey, you’re my hostage. If something’s wrong with you, it’s my responsibility to deal with it.”

Jimin smirked faintly but didn’t say anything. The silence settled again, heavier this time.

After a long pause, Jimin finally spoke. “You ever feel like your whole life is mapped out for you? Like, no matter what you want, it doesn’t matter because everyone else has already decided who you’re supposed to be?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “That’s... oddly specific.”

Jimin let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. Welcome to my world.” She rested her head against the crate, her gaze fixed on the flickering lightbulb above. “Everyone thinks being a mafia boss is all power trips and fancy dinners. But it’s not. It’s exhausting.”

Y/N frowned, shifting her position to sit closer. “Exhausting how?”

Jimin’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You think I wanted this? That I woke up one day and said, ‘You know what? I’d love to be surrounded by violence and deceit for the rest of my life’? No. This... position was handed to me. Expected of me.”

Y/N’s curiosity deepened. “Why? Family?”

Jimin nodded, her expression darkening. “My dad was the head before me. And when he was... gone, everyone looked to me to take over. Not because I wanted it, but because I had to. No one else could keep things together.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. The vulnerability in Jimin’s voice was startling. For the first time since their chaotic “meeting,” she saw the cracks in Jimin’s carefully constructed persona.

“That’s a lot to carry,” Y/N said softly.

“You have no idea.” Jimin’s laugh was sharp, almost self-deprecating. “It’s not just about running things. It’s about living up to expectations. Keeping people loyal. Pretending you’re invincible even when you’re falling apart inside.”

The weight of her words hung in the air. Y/N didn’t know what to say. What could she say?

They sat in silence for a while, the distant city noise filling the void. Finally, Y/N spoke again.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re handling it better than I would,” she said, her tone lighter. “I’d probably have a nervous breakdown on day one.”

Jimin looked at her, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oh, trust me, I’ve come close.”

Y/N smiled back, and for a brief moment, the tension between them eased.

Then Jimin, ever the master of ruining heartfelt moments, leaned forward, her smirk returning. “Look at you, caring about your hostage. How cute.”

Y/N groaned, her face heating. “Oh my god, don’t ruin this.”

“Too late,” Jimin quipped, her tone playful again.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped her. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” Jimin teased, tilting her head.

“Not by choice!” Y/N shot back, but the humor in her voice betrayed her.

--

The car rattled as Y/N gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled determination, her eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the road ahead. Behind them, two black SUVs tore through the deserted outskirts of the city, their headlights slicing through the early evening gloom.

“This is fine. Everything’s fine,” Y/N muttered to herself, her voice tight with panic.

Jimin, sitting in the passenger seat, leaned back with a bemused expression. Her seatbelt was off, one hand braced casually against the dashboard. “You know, I was starting to think today would be boring.”

“Boring?!” Y/N shrieked, swerving to avoid a pothole that could have swallowed the car whole. “We’re being chased by people who probably want to kill us, and you’re calling this boring?”

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, it’s not like this is new for me. But you—” She glanced at Y/N’s trembling hands on the wheel. “—you’re doing... okay, I guess.”

“Okay?!” Y/N shouted, her voice pitching higher as she narrowly avoided a wooden crate that had inexplicably fallen in the middle of the road.

“Relax, kidnapper. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Jimin smirked, but even she flinched as the pursuing SUVs sped up, now close enough for Y/N to see the shadowy figures inside.

“What do they even want?” Y/N hissed, her heart pounding.

“To kill me, mostly,” Jimin replied casually, leaning over to adjust the air conditioning as though they weren’t in a life-or-death situation.

Y/N shot her an incredulous look. “And you’re this calm about it?”

Jimin grinned. “What can I say? Occupational hazard.”

One of the SUVs pulled up alongside them, and the passenger leaned out of the window with something metallic glinting in his hand.

“Is that—oh my god, he’s got a gun!” Y/N yelped, jerking the wheel so hard the car veered onto the shoulder.

“Yeah, they tend to carry those,” Jimin said dryly, her hand gripping the edge of her seat as the car bounced over uneven terrain.

The SUV swerved to follow them, its tires kicking up a cloud of dust. Jimin’s grin widened as she glanced at the driver. “You know, for someone who claimed they couldn’t drive under pressure, you’re doing pretty well.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Y/N snapped, her eyes wild.

Ahead, the road split into two uneven paths: one wide and flat, the other narrow and riddled with sharp turns.

“Which way?!” Y/N screamed.

Jimin tilted her head, as if considering. “The fun one.”

Y/N groaned but swerved onto the narrower path, the car nearly tipping as it rounded the first bend. The pursuing SUVs hesitated, their bulkier frames struggling to keep up.

“See?” Jimin said smugly. “Told you this was better.”

“Better?!” Y/N shrieked as the car clipped a low-hanging branch, the windshield cracking slightly.

Behind them, one of the SUVs tried to make the same sharp turn but skidded off the road, crashing into a ditch.

“One down,” Jimin said, her voice tinged with amusement.

The remaining SUV was relentless, its engine roaring as it closed the gap between them. Y/N’s knuckles were turning an alarming shade of white as she gripped the wheel, her teeth gritted in concentration.

“I’m going to die,” she muttered under her breath. “This is it. I’m going to die in a car chase with a mafia boss.”

“You’re not going to die,” Jimin said, rolling her eyes. “But if you don’t stop panicking, you might get us killed.”

“Wow, great pep talk!”

“Just keep driving,” Jimin said, her voice suddenly sharper.

Up ahead, the narrow road gave way to an old wooden bridge that looked like it had seen better centuries.

“Uh, Jimin? That bridge doesn’t look—”

“Drive faster,” Jimin cut her off, her tone firm.

“What?!”

“Just trust me. Floor it.”

Y/N hesitated for a split second before slamming her foot on the gas. The car surged forward, the engine protesting loudly. The bridge groaned ominously as they sped across it, wooden planks splintering beneath the tires.

The SUV behind them wasn’t so lucky. As it barreled onto the bridge, the structure gave way with a deafening crack, sending the vehicle plummeting into the ravine below.

Y/N barely managed to stop the car on the other side, her heart hammering in her chest. She sat frozen, her hands still gripping the wheel like a lifeline.

Jimin, on the other hand, looked utterly unbothered. “See? Told you it would work.”

Y/N turned to her, her face a mixture of disbelief and fury. “That was your plan? To trust a hundred-year-old bridge not to kill us?!”

Jimin shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Y/N let out a strangled scream and buried her face in her hands. “I hate this. I hate this so much.”

Jimin reached over and patted her shoulder, her tone almost soothing. “Cheer up, kidnapper. You just survived your first car chase. I’d say that’s cause for celebration.”

Y/N groaned loudly, but despite herself, she couldn’t help the small, shaky laugh that escaped her.

“You’re either incredibly lucky or the worst driver alive,” Jimin added with a grin.

Y/N glared at her. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Barely.”

Jimin leaned back in her seat, her smirk never fading. “You should. You’re still alive, after all.”

For the first time that night, Y/N allowed herself to breathe, the adrenaline slowly draining from her system. But as she glanced at Jimin, lounging like she hadn’t just risked both their lives, she couldn’t help but think one thing:

How is this my life now?

--

The safe house was little more than a wooden cabin nestled in a dense thicket of trees. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground with patches of gold. Y/N stood on the porch, arms crossed, glaring at Jimin, who was meticulously inspecting a handgun like she was choosing a new accessory.

“This,” Jimin said, holding up the gun, “is what’s going to keep you alive if we run into trouble again.”

Y/N snorted. “Or, hear me out, I could just avoid trouble altogether.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Sure, because that’s worked out so well for you so far.”

Y/N opened her mouth to retort but couldn’t argue with that point. She sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Fine. Teach me. But I’m telling you right now, I’m not exactly action-hero material.”

Jimin smirked. “Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed.” She handed the gun to Y/N, who held it like it might explode in her hands.

“Why is it so heavy?” Y/N complained, staring at it like it was an alien artifact.

“It’s a gun, not a plastic toy,” Jimin said, her tone dry. She stepped behind Y/N, adjusting her grip on the weapon. “Okay, first rule: keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”

Y/N nodded, her finger twitching dangerously close to the trigger.

“Off. The. Trigger,” Jimin repeated, her voice sharp.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Y/N muttered, quickly removing her finger.

Jimin sighed, stepping even closer. She reached around Y/N, her hands guiding Y/N’s to the proper stance. Y/N froze, hyper-aware of Jimin’s proximity.

“Relax,” Jimin murmured, her breath warm against Y/N’s ear. “You’re holding the gun like it’s a bouquet of flowers. Be firm.”

Y/N gulped, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that Jimin’s hands were practically wrapped around hers. “Firm. Got it.”

“Now,” Jimin continued, “aim down the sights. See that tree over there?” She nodded toward a thick oak about twenty yards away.

“Yeah,” Y/N said hesitantly.

“Shoot it.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shoot the tree.”

Y/N hesitated, squinting down the sights. She took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

The gun kicked back with surprising force, and Y/N yelped, stumbling backward into Jimin. The bullet went wide, missing the tree entirely and hitting the dirt several feet away.

“Holy—” Y/N exclaimed, her ears ringing. “Why didn’t you warn me it would do that?!”

Jimin was laughing so hard she had to lean against the porch railing for support. “You—your face! I can’t—”

“This isn’t funny!” Y/N snapped, her cheeks burning.

“It’s hilarious,” Jimin said between fits of laughter. “You almost shot your own foot!”

Y/N glared at her. “Maybe I should shoot your foot.”

Jimin smirked, straightening up. “If you could aim, maybe I’d be worried.”

Y/N groaned, thrusting the gun back at her. “This is pointless. I’m clearly not cut out for this.”

Jimin shook her head, her expression softening slightly. “You’re not bad for a beginner. You just need practice.”

“Beginner? I kidnapped you by accident!” Y/N retorted.

“And yet here we are,” Jimin said with a smirk. “You’re not as hopeless as you think, Y/N.”

The unexpected sincerity in her tone caught Y/N off guard. She glanced at Jimin, who was casually inspecting the gun again, as if she hadn’t just paid her a compliment.

“Okay, fine,” Y/N said reluctantly. “One more try.”

Jimin handed the gun back with a grin. “Atta girl. Let’s see if you can hit something this time.”

Y/N took her stance again, this time determined not to make a fool of herself. She focused, aimed, and fired.

The bullet nicked the edge of the tree, sending a small spray of bark flying. Y/N turned to Jimin, her face lighting up with excitement. “Did you see that? I hit it!”

“Barely,” Jimin teased, but there was a glint of approval in her eyes.

“Progress is progress,” Y/N said smugly, puffing out her chest.

Jimin chuckled, shaking her head. “At this rate, you might actually survive the week.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, she felt a flicker of confidence—and maybe, just maybe, a flicker of something else whenever Jimin looked at her like that.

--

The small-town grocery store was quaint, with neatly arranged shelves and soft music playing overhead. Y/N trailed behind Jimin, clutching a shopping basket filled with instant ramen and an assortment of snacks she had hastily grabbed. She felt out of place amidst the mundanity of the store, especially with Jimin confidently striding ahead like she owned the place.

“Why are we even shopping?” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of the refrigerators.

“Because,” Jimin replied without looking back, “a mafia boss can’t survive on gas station chips alone. I have standards.”

Y/N huffed but kept following. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

As they reached the frozen foods section, Y/N’s gaze wandered, and she froze mid-step. Near the entrance, two men in dark suits were browsing the produce aisle. Their stiff postures and sharp looks screamed “mob enforcers” to her. Her heart rate spiked.

“Uh, Jimin,” she hissed, grabbing her arm.

Jimin turned, holding a pint of pistachio ice cream. “What?”

“Those guys,” Y/N whispered, tilting her head toward the men. “They’re definitely here for us.”

Jimin followed her gaze, her expression unchanging. “Relax,” she said, turning back to the ice cream freezer. “They’re not here for you.”

Y/N blinked. “How do you know that?”

“Because they’re not mine,” Jimin replied casually, tossing the ice cream into the basket.

“That doesn’t make me feel better!” Y/N said, her voice rising slightly.

“Shh,” Jimin chided, gesturing for her to lower her voice. “If they were here for you, trust me, you wouldn’t even know they were here.”

“That’s supposed to be comforting?” Y/N demanded, but Jimin was already walking toward the checkout line, completely unbothered.

Unable to shake the feeling of being watched, Y/N kept her head down as she hurried to catch up. She stuck close to Jimin, clutching the basket like a lifeline.

--

Outside the store, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot. Y/N took a deep breath, relieved to be out of the store and away from the men in suits.

“See?” Jimin said, unlocking the car with a click. “No one cares about you, Y/N.”

Y/N glared at her. “You have the worst way of comforting people.”

Jimin smirked, opening the trunk to place their groceries inside. “You’re welcome.”

Before Y/N could retort, a commotion erupted near the corner of the parking lot. A group of men, shouting angrily, had gathered near a beat-up sedan. One of them shoved another, and it quickly escalated into a full-blown argument.

Y/N instinctively took a step back. “Uh, what’s happening?”

Jimin glanced over, her expression darkening. “Rival gang,” she said, her tone clipped.

“Are you serious?” Y/N whispered, her panic rising again.

“Stay here,” Jimin ordered, already stepping toward the scene.

“Wait, what? No! Don’t—” Y/N started, but Jimin was already halfway there.

Y/N watched as Jimin approached the group with the kind of confidence only someone with her background could muster. The shouting died down as the men noticed her. She said something Y/N couldn’t hear, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Y/N’s nerves were shot. She ducked behind the car, peeking over the hood to keep an eye on Jimin.

Suddenly, one of the men gestured aggressively toward Jimin, and before Y/N knew it, he pulled out a weapon.

Her stomach dropped. Without thinking, Y/N darted out from behind the car. “Jimin, look out!”

The man’s focus shifted to Y/N for a split second—a mistake that gave Jimin’s men, who had been shadowing them unnoticed, the opening they needed. In a matter of seconds, the situation was under control.

Jimin turned to Y/N, her expression unreadable. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, striding toward her.

Y/N stumbled back, her adrenaline wearing off. “I—I thought you needed help.”

Jimin sighed, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you?” Y/N said weakly.

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Jimin said, though there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

As they walked back to the car, Jimin’s men cleaned up the mess behind them. Y/N glanced at Jimin, who seemed completely unfazed by what had just happened.

“You’re insane, you know that?” Y/N muttered, climbing into the car.

Jimin chuckled, sliding into the driver’s seat. “And you’re fragile. But,” she added, glancing at Y/N with a small smirk, “thanks for caring.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity beneath the teasing. She looked away, her cheeks warming.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, but the hint of a smile on her face didn’t go unnoticed.

--

The rundown cabin creaked with every slight breeze, its weathered wooden panels making it feel more like a relic than a refuge. Y/N paced the small living area, muttering to herself as Jimin lounged on the rickety couch, legs crossed, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who’s being hunted by another mafia

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N said, running a hand through her hair. “Why are you so... so calm about all this? Why are you still acting as if you couldn’t leave at any moment?”

Jimin smirked, tilting her head as if Y/N had just asked the most obvious question in the world. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment to take over.”

Y/N froze mid-step, turning to glare at Jimin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jimin shrugged, the smirk widening. “Maybe I’m just letting you tire yourself out, running around like a headless chicken. When the time comes, I’ll strike.”

“You’re bluffing,” Y/N said, though her voice wavered slightly.

“Am I?” Jimin leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. The glint in her eyes was both playful and mischievous.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Well, we’ll see about that,” she muttered, marching toward the cabin door.

The next hour turned into a chaotic game of cat-and-mouse. Y/N, determined to keep Jimin from pulling any tricks, began “fortifying” the cabin. She locked every door and window, stacking random furniture against entryways and fashioning makeshift traps out of whatever she could find.

“Are you seriously barricading me in?” Jimin called from the couch, watching Y/N pile chairs against the front door.

“You’re not taking over anything on my watch,” Y/N retorted, dragging a heavy cabinet toward the back door.

Jimin chuckled, standing up and effortlessly unlocking the window Y/N had just secured. “You know, for someone who kidnapped me, you’re really bad at containment.”

Y/N spun around. “Hey! I just locked that!”

“Oops.” Jimin gave her an innocent look, slowly closing the now-unlocked window.

Y/N groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” Jimin quipped, dodging a throw pillow Y/N hurled at her.

--

After the so-called fortification, Y/N decided chores were a safer distraction. She swept the dusty floors while Jimin, much to her own amusement, insisted on helping.

“Fine,” Y/N sighed, handing Jimin a dish towel. “You can dry the dishes. Think you can handle that without breaking anything?”

Jimin gave an exaggerated gasp. “Wow. Such faith in me, Y/N. I’m touched.”

It took less than two minutes for her to shatter a glass plate.

“Are you serious?” Y/N asked, staring at the shards on the floor.

“It slipped,” Jimin said, looking entirely unbothered as she picked up the larger pieces. “I’ll deduct it from your kidnapping ransom.”

“Ransom?” Y/N’s voice rose an octave. “There is no ransom! That’s not how this works!”

Jimin smiled sweetly. “Oh, I know. But it’s fun to watch you freak out.”

Y/N groaned, returning to sweeping.

--

Later, Jimin volunteered to make toast for a snack. Y/N hesitantly agreed, keeping a watchful eye as Jimin fiddled with the toaster.

“Jimin, it’s not that complicated,” Y/N said when Jimin kept inspecting the buttons like she was defusing a bomb.

“Let me work my magic,” Jimin replied confidently.

Moments later, smoke began billowing from the toaster.

“Magic, huh?” Y/N coughed, fanning the air with her hand. “What did you do?”

Jimin pulled out two charred slices of bread, holding them up like trophies. “I call it ‘Mafia Blackened Toast.’ It’s a delicacy.”

Y/N snorted despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Jimin grinned. “You’re laughing. That’s progress.”

--

The final straw came when Jimin somehow managed to lock herself in the bathroom.

“Y/N!” she called through the door, her voice a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“What now?” Y/N shouted back, approaching the bathroom.

“I think the lock’s broken.”

Y/N stared at the door. “How did you even manage that? It’s a basic latch!”

“Talent,” Jimin said, deadpan.

Y/N sighed, grabbing a bobby pin and working the lock open. When the door finally swung ajar, Jimin stood there, looking sheepish.

“Thanks, kidnapper,” she said with a wink.

Y/N couldn’t help it—she laughed.

Jimin leaned against the doorframe, watching her. “See? I told you I’d grow on you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re lucky you’re funny.”

Jimin grinned. “And lucky I’m charming.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N said, brushing past her.

But as Jimin followed, humming a little tune, Y/N couldn’t shake the warmth blooming in her chest. Maybe this whole accidental kidnapping wasn’t entirely terrible.

--

The lake near the cabin shimmered under the fading sunlight, its surface reflecting hues of gold and amber. Y/N leaned against a tree, staring out at the water as Jimin skipped stones effortlessly, each one gliding across the surface with perfect precision.

“Of course, you’re good at this too,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms.

Jimin glanced back at her, smirking. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, kidnapper. Want me to teach you?”

Y/N snorted. “No, thanks. I’ll leave the stone-skipping expertise to you, your majesty.”

Jimin chuckled and threw another stone, watching it bounce five times before sinking. “Suit yourself.”

The quiet between them wasn’t awkward—just the kind of calm that sneaks in when two people have been through too much together to need constant conversation. Y/N fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt, glancing at Jimin when she thought she wouldn’t notice.

It was annoying, really. The way Jimin’s hair caught the light. The way her smirk softened when she thought no one was looking. The way she made Y/N’s heart race for absolutely no good reason.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence. She turned around, raising an eyebrow at Y/N. “Plotting your next terrible kidnapping strategy?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.” Jimin grinned, brushing her hands on her jeans before walking over. “Come on. You’re not sulking, are you?”

“I’m not sulking!” Y/N snapped, a bit too quickly.

Jimin leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. “You sure about that?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory for you,” Jimin teased, sitting down beside her.

“Do you always have to be such a pain?” Y/N muttered, though her tone lacked any real bite.

“It’s one of my many charms.” Jimin flashed her a dazzling smile before leaning back on her hands, looking at Y/N out of the corner of her eye. “So, what’s got you so deep in thought?”

Y/N hesitated, debating whether to play it off with sarcasm or just say what was on her mind. Against her better judgment, the words spilled out before she could stop them.

“I... I kind of enjoy this. Being around you, I mean.”

The confession hung in the air, and Y/N immediately regretted it. Her cheeks burned, and she avoided Jimin’s gaze, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the dirt at her feet.

There was a beat of silence, then: “Wait, what?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Forget I said anything.”

“Oh, no way.” Jimin’s voice was laced with amusement as she scooted closer. “Did you just admit you like my company?”

“No!” Y/N shot back, face still hidden. “I mean—maybe. I don’t know! Forget it!”

Jimin laughed, the sound warm and uncharacteristically soft. “This is gold. Are you falling for your hostage, Y/N?”

Y/N finally looked up, glaring at her. “Could you not?”

But the glare didn’t land, not with the way her face was flushed and her expression was more flustered than intimidating.

Jimin’s teasing smirk faltered for a moment as she saw the genuine embarrassment in Y/N’s eyes. Her voice softened. “Hey, relax. I’m just messing with you.”

Y/N huffed, looking away. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” Jimin said, nudging her shoulder. “But for what it’s worth... I like you too.”

Y/N froze, whipping her head around to stare at her. “You—you do?”

“Obviously,” Jimin said, the smirk returning. “Why else would I stick around with the world’s most incompetent kidnapper?”

Y/N blinked, processing the words before shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming, you mean.”

Y/N laughed despite herself, leaning back against the tree with a sigh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I could say the same about you,” Jimin replied, her voice softer now. She glanced at Y/N, a flicker of something more serious in her gaze. “Thanks for... being you.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat but managed to play it off with a laugh. “Don’t get all mushy on me now.”

Jimin grinned, picking up a stone and tossing it into the water. “Wouldn’t dream of it, kidnapper.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the lake in hues of orange and pink, the two sat in comfortable silence. For once, neither was running, hiding, or panicking. It was just them, and that was enough.

--

Y/N sat cross-legged on the creaky floor of the rundown cabin, her phone balanced precariously on her knee. The screen was filled with a YouTube tutorial titled “How to Build a Fire Without Burning Down the House.”

“Step one,” Y/N muttered to herself, “gather dry wood.” She glanced out the window where Jimin had wandered off into the woods, promising to find firewood. Y/N still wasn’t sure why Jimin insisted on making this place “cozy,” but it was a rare moment of normalcy. Well, as normal as things could get with your accidentally kidnapped mafia boss.

She glanced at the clock on her phone. Jimin had been gone longer than expected.

Before she could worry too much, the cabin door burst open with a deafening crack.

Y/N froze, her phone clattering to the floor as several men in dark suits stormed inside. Their cold glares swept over the room before locking onto her.

“Where’s Jimin?” one of them demanded, his voice sharp and dangerous.

Y/N’s mind raced, heart pounding in her chest. What the hell?

“Uh…” She looked around frantically, as if Jimin might magically appear. “She’s, um, not here?”

The man stepped closer, clearly unimpressed with her answer. “We know she’s been hiding out with you. Where is she?”

“Out getting firewood?” Y/N blurted, immediately regretting her honesty.

The men exchanged glances before one of them grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, hold on! I can’t leave—I was about to start a fire!” Y/N protested, struggling as they dragged her toward the door. “This is illegal, you know! Kidnapping is illegal!”

One of the men smirked. “You’d be surprised what we get away with.”

--

The room was dimly lit, with bare concrete walls and a single flickering bulb overhead. Y/N sat tied to a chair in the center, her wrists bound tightly with scratchy rope. Around her loomed several intimidating figures, their eyes cold and unrelenting. Leading the pack was Han, the rival boss—tall, sharply dressed, and annoyingly smug.

Han leaned casually against the table in front of her, studying her with a faint smile that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. Not because he was intimidating, but because of the unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement in his gaze.

“So,” Han began, his voice smooth and almost friendly, “we meet again, Y/N.”

Y/N glared at him, trying to suppress her nerves. “Yeah, hi. Nice to see you too. Could you maybe not tie me up next time?”

Han chuckled, brushing an invisible speck of lint off his sleeve. “That depends. Will you stop harboring my rival?”

“I’m not harboring her!” Y/N snapped. “This whole thing is a misunderstanding!”

“Sure it is.” Han leaned in slightly, his smile widening. “You know, I’ve been thinking about you since our little diner encounter. You’re quite... captivating.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Captivating?”

Han nodded. “It’s not every day someone manages to kidnap Yu Jimin and live to tell the tale. I find that intriguing.”

“Great. Maybe write a book about it and let me go?”

Han laughed softly, ignoring her sarcasm. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.” He gestured to one of his men. “Let’s try this again. Where is Jimin?”

Y/N’s heart pounded as the burly man approached, his expression menacing. “I don’t know!” she blurted. “She doesn’t tell me anything! I’m just—” She hesitated, realizing the truth wouldn’t exactly help her case. “—an innocent bystander!”

Han raised an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. “Innocent? You were practically glued to her side at that diner. Don’t play coy, Y/N. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Okay, first of all, rude,” Y/N shot back. “Second, if I knew where she was, do you think I’d be here?”

Han tilted his head thoughtfully. “Fair point. But you must know something.”

Y/N hesitated, wracking her brain for anything that might satisfy him without throwing Jimin under the bus. “Uh... she likes espresso?”

Han’s smile twitched.

“She hates bad Wi-Fi?” Y/N continued weakly.

One of Han’s men snorted before quickly disguising it as a cough.

“Enough games.” Han’s voice dropped, and his eyes darkened. He stepped closer, his proximity making Y/N’s stomach churn with unease. “Tell me where she is, or things will get... unpleasant.”

Y/N stared back at him, her heart hammering. She didn’t have a plan, and she definitely didn’t have the information he wanted. “I don’t know where she is!” she insisted. “She left me at the cabin to get firewood, and then you showed up!”

Han’s smile returned, softer this time but no less unsettling. “You know, you’re quite charming when you’re flustered.”

Y/N gaped at him. “What?”

“Relax,” Han said, straightening up. “We’re not going to hurt you. Yet.” He turned to his men. “Keep her comfortable. I need to make some calls.”

“Comfortable?” Y/N echoed as Han began to walk away. “I’m tied to a chair in a dungeon!”

Han glanced back over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “Some people pay good money for that experience.”

Y/N groaned, slumping against her restraints. “Jimin, if you don’t show up soon, I swear I’ll haunt you if I die.”

--

Jimin trudged through the woods, her arms full of firewood. She’d been taking her time, enjoying the peace and quiet, when she noticed the cabin door wide open.

Her brow furrowed as she stepped inside, instantly taking in the signs of a struggle—the overturned chair, the broken lamp, and the distinct lack of one panicked kidnapper.

“Y/N?” she called, dropping the firewood. Silence greeted her.

Jimin’s jaw tightened, her calm demeanor slipping as worry took hold. She pulled out her phone, dialing a number. “Get everyone together,” she barked when the line connected. “We’ve got a problem.”

--

Han came back to the room, regarding Y/N with that maddening smirk, as though the entire ordeal was just a game to him. “You’re quite the enigma, you know,” he said, his tone almost conversational.

Y/N glared at him, hiding her fear behind a wall of sarcasm. “And you’re quite the creep. Can we skip to the part where you untie me and let me go?”

Han chuckled, pushing off the table and stepping closer. “You’ve got spirit. I like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fantastic. Add it to my Yelp review after this is over.”

His smile widened as he crouched in front of her, his gaze piercing. “You’re bold. But I wonder... is that bravery, or are you just pretending not to be terrified?”

Y/N swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much his words unsettled her. “Why don’t you untie me and find out?”

Han’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Tempting.” He stood, turning to his men. “I’ll as you one last time. Where is Jimin?”

Y/N pressed her lips together, weighing her options. She didn’t know where Jimin was right now, but she couldn’t exactly say that without giving away too much. “She’s... she’s not coming for me,” she blurted.

Han arched an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s interesting, considering how quickly she showed up the last time you were in danger.”

“I’m just some random nobody,” Y/N said, trying to sound convincing. “Why would she risk herself for me?”

Han studied her for a moment, then leaned back against the table. “You know, Y/N, I almost believe you. Almost.”

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a sleek, black pistol. The sight of it made Y/N’s stomach drop.

Han twirled the gun lazily in his hand, his eyes never leaving hers. “Here’s the thing. Jimin has a soft spot for lost causes. It’s one of her flaws. So, either you’re lying to protect her, or she’s already on her way.” He pointed the gun at her, his voice dropping to a chilling calm. “Let’s find out which.”

Y/N froze, her pulse thundering in her ears. Her bravado cracked under the weight of the cold barrel aimed at her chest. “W-wait!” she stammered. “You don’t have to do this!”

“Relax,” Han said, smiling faintly. “I’m just testing a theory.”

Before he could say another word, the door to the hideout slammed open. The loud crack echoed through the room, and everyone turned to see Jimin standing in the doorway, flanked by her men. Her sharp suit was pristine, her expression cold as ice.

“Drop it, Han,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Han’s smirk returned as he turned toward her. “Right on time, as always, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes flicked to Y/N, tied up and terrified, and her jaw tightened. “Let her go.”

Han tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Why so serious? We were just having a friendly chat.”

“Funny,” Jimin said, taking a step forward. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re holding a gun to her chest.”

Han’s smile turned predatory as he shifted his aim, pressing the barrel to Y/N’s temple. Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with fear.

“Careful, Jimin,” Han warned. “One wrong move, and this could get messy.”

Jimin’s expression didn’t waver, but her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You’re making a mistake, Han.”

“And you’re predictable,” Han countered. “Always so quick to play the hero. Tell me, Jimin, what’s this girl to you? A pawn? A distraction?”

Jimin’s gaze darkened, her voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “She’s mine.”

Han chuckled, amused by her response. “Yours, huh? Well, then, I suppose this is personal.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the standoff stretched. Then, in a flash, Jimin moved. She lunged forward with a speed that left Han’s men scrambling. Her hand struck the gun, knocking it away just as it fired, the deafening crack echoing through the space.

Y/N screamed, flinching as the bullet lodged harmlessly into the wall behind her.

Jimin didn’t stop. She delivered a swift, brutal punch to Han’s jaw, sending him reeling. The room erupted into chaos as her men stormed in, engaging Han’s goons in a flurry of fists and shouts.

Y/N struggled against her bonds, panic and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Jimin, mid-fight, caught sight of her and called out, “Hold on! I’m coming!”

In one fluid motion, Jimin grabbed a discarded knife and sliced through the ropes binding Y/N. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice tight with concern.

Y/N nodded shakily. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

Jimin grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the exit as the fight continued to rage behind them.

--

Outside, the cool night air hit them like a slap. Y/N leaned against the side of a car, trying to catch her breath.

“That was... intense,” she managed, her voice trembling.

Jimin placed a hand on her shoulder, her expression softening for the first time. “You’re safe now.”

Y/N looked up at her, her heart still racing. “You came for me.”

“Of course I did,” Jimin said, her tone almost offended. “Nobody touches my kidnapper but me.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, tears prickling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re reckless,” Jimin countered, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “But... I’m glad you’re okay.”

The moment hung between them, charged with unspoken tension, until Jimin finally pulled away, her cool facade slipping back into place.

“Come on,” she said, helping Y/N into the car. “Let’s get out of here before Han decides to get back up.”

As they sped away, Y/N couldn’t help but glance at Jimin, her heart tugging in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.

--

The apartment was a mess, as always. Y/N’s shoes were haphazardly kicked off by the door, her jacket draped over the back of a chair, and the lingering smell of half-eaten takeout filled the space. Jimin, however, didn’t seem to mind. She leaned casually against the wall, her suit slightly disheveled from the evening’s chaos but still managing to look effortlessly put together.

Y/N paced back and forth in the small living room, her nerves still frayed. “What were you thinking?” she demanded, pointing a finger at Jimin. “You could’ve been killed back there!”

Jimin arched an eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. “I wasn’t the one tied to a chair, sweetie.”

“That’s not the point!” Y/N snapped, spinning to face her. “You didn’t have to risk yourself like that. You should’ve just—just let me handle it!”

Jimin’s smirk deepened, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Handle it? You mean when you were about to get shot? Great plan, Y/N. Truly inspiring.”

Y/N groaned, running a hand through her hair. “I mean it, Jimin. You don’t get to just... swoop in and play hero like that. I’m not—” She faltered, her voice softening. “I’m not worth losing yourself over.”

Jimin pushed off the wall, her expression shifting to something softer, more serious. “Don’t say that.”

Y/N looked away, her arms wrapping around herself. “Why not? It’s true. I’m just some random nobody who accidentally kidnapped you. You could’ve walked away at any time, but instead, you’re... you’re doing all this. Why?”

Jimin stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the worn floorboards. “You’re not nobody,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare sincerity.

Y/N’s breath caught as Jimin reached out, gently tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “I don’t care how we started. What matters is where we are now,” Jimin continued, her gaze intense. “And right now, you’re the only thing I care about.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if drawn by some unspoken pull, Jimin leaned in and kissed her.

It was tender at first, a soft brush of lips that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. But it quickly deepened, Jimin’s hands sliding to Y/N’s waist as she pulled her closer. Y/N’s heart raced, her hands tentatively finding their way to Jimin’s shoulders.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Jimin smirked down at her. “So,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing, “still think you’re the one in charge here?”

Y/N blinked up at her, dazed. “I—what?”

Jimin chuckled, stepping back just enough to lean against the edge of the table. “You kidnapped me, remember? Isn’t the kidnapper supposed to be in charge?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” Jimin quipped, her smirk softening into a genuine smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “Fine. You win.”

Jimin tilted her head, feigning surprise. “Oh, was there ever any doubt?”

Y/N groaned, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her frustration. She shook her head and sighed. “Alright, Mafia Boss. What now?”

Jimin straightened, her smile taking on a mischievous edge. “Now? We figure out how to make this work.”

Y/N blinked. “This?”

“This,” Jimin repeated, gesturing between them. “You. Me. Us.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the casual confidence in her words. “You’re serious?”

Jimin leaned in again, her smirk returning. “Do I look like someone who does things halfway?”

Y/N swallowed hard, a mix of excitement and terror bubbling in her chest. “You’re insane,” she muttered.

Jimin chuckled, her voice warm. “You’re not wrong.”

With that, she grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the couch. “Come on, kidnapper. Let’s order takeout and figure out what the hell we’re doing.”

Y/N let herself be pulled along, a smile creeping onto her face despite herself. Maybe, just maybe, she could handle a little insanity if it meant keeping Jimin around.

[dropsnectar]

Witches Brew 

Slime monster x afab!witch

Happy October! Here's some spooky smut for the spooky season!

It was October and Halloween was just around the corner! So! Of course you were bubbling up some witches brew for one of your most busy seasons of the year. 

You stood in your studio apartment, walls covered in wooden shelves. Atop of those shelves were bottles full of your favorite things: dry herbs, powder mixes, and other potion and spellcasting tools you would need for your work. In the middle of the room stood a big cast iron cauldron. You had arranged some cement blocks to hold an electric fire starter underneath it, as you didn't have a fireplace. It was hard being a witch in the city, but you made do. This was where all the clientele was, after all.

You were standing over the boiling cauldron, an old grimiore in one hand, and mixing the golden liquid with another. The grimoire was your great grandmother something you had recently inherited. You were practically shaking with excitement! Your great grandmother had been an excellent witch, known far and wide for her potions. You had flipped through her book and found it, a recipe for her “Extremely Special Witches Brew”, the first two words being underlined. Witches brew was the basis of so much potion work. If it was extremely special then that must mean it was incredibly potent!

You had been brewing for about six hours now. The recipe started out incredibly normal, but had specified that you stare it down for the next hour, adding a lock of your own hair and some mermaid scales. This had been the most difficult bit, as mermaid scales had a habit of boiling over the pot unless babied with compliments and sweet words. Unusual for witches brew, but you trusted your grandmother. 

You had finally finished your hour of staring, marveling and cooing, turning off the fire starter. The next step was to let it cool. When it was finished, the grimoire specified, the mixture would condense and turn a lovely green color. 

You waited another hour and checked on the brew. Strange. There had been no change in consistency, and the color remained as gold as the sun on a winter's day. You waited another hour. Nothing.

You cursed. Were had you gone wrong? This recipe had been incredibly expensive, and you'd made ALOT of it, expecting to use it for the rest of the year. Upset, you went to bed early, muttering yourself to sleep.

It was around midnight when something started to stir in the cauldron. Any waking ear would have heard the sputtering and gurgling as the magic started to awaken.  Slowly, a small green tendril dripped its way onto the floor, continuously flowing until the full glob, the size of a small person made its way to the floor. Slowly, it rolled across the carpet and stopped at the bed. It watched you sleep for a moment before pulling itself up into the foot of the bed, under your covers.

You woke up feeling something crawl up your thighs. When you opened your eyes you glanced up, not seeing anything. But their was a pressure on you, something cool and wet, like a weighted blanket was curling itself up towards your core.

You tore your blanket off of you and saw it, a dark building sludge, glowing beautifully under the moonlight streaming from your window. 

You were so shocked, you didn't react. That was, until it had decided to pull itself under your panties and push itself between your lips. You gasped out as it completely covered you, gliding back and forth against your entrance and up towards your clit. It was pushing and closing all around you, the wetness feeling so good against your skin. 

Despite the fact that your stomach was in knots you tried to push the glob off of you. Your hands made contact, but pushed right through, into the creature. You tried to pull your arms out, but the thing tightened around them. You tried to leverage your weight, pulling back as hard as you could, but only managed to pull the thing with you as you rocked back.

The thing was heavy, pushing down your tummy and making its way up your chest. It did not stop sliding up and down your vulva, your breath hitching as it seemed to catch at your entrance. There was an experimental push there and you squirmed, your heart in your throat. 

Suddenly, the area felt even more slippery then it did before. The creature started to glow, a soft grass green, as all across your skin, the thing seemed to seep some sort of liquid. You could feel it drip down the crevices of your groin, down the slopes of your chest as you noticed the thing start to disintegrate your nightgown.

You wriggled as much as you could, trying to push back arousal as you shimmied to the edge of the bed. But the creature had a grip on you and the more you moved the faster it started to glide and explore the planes of your now exposed skin. It was fully enveloping you.

You gasped as it pushed into your entrance, a slippery tendril slowly making its way up and around your walls, leaving behind a sticky liquid as it moved. Your body was slowly starting to tingle. Your breathe was becoming even more ragged and the cool and slick textured of the sludge started to feel even more pleasant then it had before. 

Your mind was getting fuzzy. The feeling of the thing on your skin, paired with the weight, while previously scary, was really stoking the fire in your core. Hadn't you been so desperate lately for a feeling like this? To feel the weight of a lover as you mewled out from under them?

Your vision started to get fuzzy too. Fuzzy. You felt fuzzy all over. The need in you continued to grow as all you could concentrate on was the sudden movements on every part of your body. Hot. You felt hot..

Your waist, the curves of your breast, your inner thighs, your nipples, they were being caressed, grabbed, groped. All of this continued as a sharp sucking started to occur on your clit. You cried out, not caring if the neighbors could hear you as it sucked wave after wave of pleasure from your skin. 

More tendrils had made their way into your hot wet cunt. The girth of it made you buck your hips, straining beautifully under the the green glowing creature. You liked how it pushed you back down, experimenting with where to shift its weight as you keened out.

Green.

The witches brew. The Extremely Special witches brew.

Fuck.

You weren't able to think further as a large girthy tendril suddenly shot itself into you, thrusting into you with force. There was a needle like sucking of your nipples as the thing glided circles over every surface of your body. It was so much sensation you could barely think. The thrusting quickening its pace, pushing harder and faster into you until you broke, your orgasm rocking through you like an earthquake. 

But it didn't stop thrusting. And you didn't stop wanting it to fuck you, jerking your wobbly pelvis into the tendrils with futility. You giggled as the slime started to massage more fluid onto your vulva and cunt. Cum and aphrodisiac trickled out of you as the thing bullied that spongy spot that made you see stars. 

You had started to drool, which attracted the attention of the glob near your chest. A slimy tendril made its way to the drool streaming down your neck and chest, sucking. It seemed to be devouring the liquid as it made its way into your mouth, sucking your skin and tongue. You moaned around it, an herby taste oozing. You recognized some of the notes as ingredients in your brew.

 A silent chuckle vibrated through your chest. Mermaid scales. Worth every buck.

You came again. And again. And again. The slime fucked you over so much that you couldn't quite understand where it started and you began. You were so needy and so desperate for the next orgasm that you didn't notice the sunlight streaming down onto your conjoined bodies.

Some tendrils had made its way to your face, pushing back hair and sucking lazily on the sweat streaming down your forehead. Then, the coil within you snapped one more time, washing over you like a gentle wave on the beach. And the thrusting stopped. The sucking stopped.

The tendrils within you started to recede and form back into the main glob of the creature. It started to absorb all the slick of your body, leaving a lone bouncy weight on your skin. 

The two of you laid like that for a while as you caught your final breath, barely able to stay conscious. The thing started to prod circles into your sore aching muscles. You heard a keening sound. That surprised you a little. But that keen had been filled with so much affection, your heart couldn't help but be affected. 

As you lost consciousness, one thought stayed in your mind.

Best fucking spell ever. 

[bunny-1111]

Blow out your candles - Theo Nott x reader

Description: you hate your birthday, your boyfriend Theodore tries to make it the best day for you, but only makes it worse, until...

Word Count: 1.1k

Fluff/Angst

Likes, comments + reblogs appreciated my loves xx

...

"One more sleep" Theo jestered, throwing an arm around you in the busy hallways of the Hogwarts morning traffic.

"Don't remind me" you muttered, wanting to hide in his chest

"Wait till you see what I got you" he teased, a smirk growing as he watched you

"Hey! I told you nothing, not fair!" you whined

"I can't wait, you're gonna love it, and you're gonna love your birthday baby" a cheshire grin painting his face

"I can wait" you say rolling your eyes, before the conversation could continue he pecked a kiss on your lips, before running off to class.

Now stuck walking by yourself, alone with your thoughts, you were becoming overwhelmed, since you were a child you despised your birthday.

With your parents always away, you spent most of your milestones alone, from as young as four years old, it was your Grandmother that would keep you celebrated, taking the morning to gather and make flower crowns, then spend the rest of the day wearing them. When she died, so did your birthday as far as you were concerned.

As time passed, you grew in age and in contentment. You now preferred your birthday to just pass as any other would, that's how it was supposed to be this year as well, until Pansy opened her stupid mouth a month ago, reminding everyone you would be eighteen soon.

Theodore reminded you everyday since then, he was basically a human countdown for your least favourite day of the year.

Now less than twenty-four hours away, you couldn't bare the thought.

Now, the night before the dreaded day, you hoped, by some miracle, Theodore would fall, hit his head, and forget.

That did not happen, the sun blared into your eyes as your boyfriend ripped open your blinds early birthday morning

"Wake up birthday girl!" he practically yelled

"No" you groaned sinking into your pillows, you hands throwing your blanket over you head, make this go away you thought

Theodore tore your blankets off you, and jumped onto you and began blabbering about the plans of the day, he was so happy your birthday fell on a Saturday, you hated it, if you had class you could avoid all of this.

He moved you to sit upright, and continued talking about a day full of surprises

"I hate surprises" you complain

"Well you love me, so you'll like these ones" he returned, gently caressing your face with his warm hands

"Why can't we just sleep the day away in my bed, that's what I want" you said

"Tough luck, sweetheart, let's go" he smiled prompting you up

In the great hall, your friends waited for you, smiles one their faces, waiting to welcome you. Theodore insisted they go around and give you their presents one by one, followed by stating all the things they love about you.

It was embarrassing to say the least, you felt so out of body.

As the hours passed, Theodore did not talk about anything else, reminded everyone, it was getting progressively unbearable. It never ended, he had something or someone waiting for you everywhere you turned.

You knew how much he cared, how hard he was trying, you loved him, and hated yourself for being so displeased at his actions.

By nighttime, you were counting down the hours till the days end, you entered the common room, a chalkboard centring the space, a big 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' written for everyone to see.

You and your friends sat on the couch, when Theo entered, cake in hand, candles lit, your friends began to sing and clap. One final protest.

No, no, no.

You told him so clearly, no cake, and absolutely no singing. Spare me some fucking dignity you wanted to scream

He just didn't listen, placing the cake close to you, waiting for you to blow out your candles.

You threw your head back, tears stinging your eyes, breath, you reminded yourself. When breathing wasn't working you choose to get up and storm to your dorm, hot, frustrated tears flooding your face.

You ran into bed, and continued crying, perfect, you thought, this is what you wanted, right? To push Theo away, to be alone, to feel like shit, to act like shit, congratulations, you're officially a year older and officially a shitty person.

When time passed, there was only 15 minutes left, a knock on your door.

"Please don't come in" you begged

He of course didn't listen, twisting the doorknob, opening and closing the door behind himself.

Theo carefully approached you

"I'm sorry" he almost whispered rubbing your back, meeting each others sad eyes.

"No, I'm sorry" you sigh

"Can I give you your present?" he asked so politely

you nodded, inhaling a sniffle.

"Close your eyes" he requested, you did

You could hear him reached into his pocket, and place something on your head, reaching up to feel what it was, your heart dropped, immediately opening your eyes, head clocking to your mirror, to be met with a flower crown decorating your hair.

You gasped, turned to him and threw yourself into a hug, he held you tight as you cried "How did you know" you enquired

"I wrote your mother" he shrugged, attempting a smile

"One more thing" he continued, handing you a letter

"What's this?" you questioned

"Trust me, darling, just read it" He said, kissing your forehead.

Birthday Girl. Read the front, opening the parchment you almost choked when you recognised the handwriting, it was from your grandmother.

Hi sweet girl,

I will be long gone by the time you read this, but did you really think I wouldn't be there in some way on your 18th birthday.

I love you endlessly, I am picking flowers for you above, stay gentle, regardless of what this world throws at you, and remember the times in the fields, crafting our crowns, baking your cake, laughing, smiling, don't lose any petals without me!

The things I would do to spend just one more birthday with you, child.

Think of me always, as I do, you.

Love you, my flower girl.

-Grammy

You almost dropped it in shock, eyes rescanning, rereading a hundred times

"i- How" you stuttered out

"You mother saved it, she wasn't going to send it, so I went and got it for you myself" he admitted

"You did this for me" You cried

"I love you" he hushed

"I love you so much" you returned, pulling him into your bed.

Before you both drifted to sleep, you faced him, "Best birthday ever" you whispered, kissing you, he grinned

"I'm so sorry teddy" you repeat

"Enough of that, alright, I know it's hard" he sympathised

"You've changed everything for me, I think I love my birthday again, thank you my darling boy" you cry happy tears

He held you tighter.

As you sleep your birthday off, the smile on your face doesn't leave you.

requests are open <3

[heartseungs-archive]

dance to this | l.hc

word count: 3.8k | genre: dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers | warnings: none

Donghyuck is an ace. He knows this from the way Taeyong chooses him to be the centre of too many of their performances, and the way too many of his clips have gone viral online.

Donghyuck is annoying. He knows this from the way Doyoung groans in exasperation at every one of his stupid pranks, or when Mark finally loses his patience and shouts across the room at the top of his voice.

But above all of that, Donghyuck is very, very competitive. He doesn’t make it obvious, but the need to win is always simmering beneath the surface, especially for the things that matter. He knows this because you are always there, in his peripheral vision, reminding Donghyuck that he needs to be better than you.

You’re an ace too, even if Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it. The entirety of the Yonsei male student population is likely in love with you and has posters hung up in their room. You’re also annoying, or at least Donghyuck thinks so. He’s sure the rest of the team would disagree, but you’ve got them wrapped around your finger.

“I’m not partnering with someone who can’t even moonwalk properly,” he bites, and you glare back at him.

“Says the one who tore his jeans at rehearsal last year trying to do a split.”

“That was just because the jeans were too tight. I assure you I am fully capable of doing a split.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see it then. See, you’re hesitating-”

“Guys! For the love of God, can the two of you cut it out? It’s like I’m dealing with two toddlers.” Taeyong stands in front of you and Donghyuck, looking frazzled as always. Next to him is Karina, who simply rolls her eyes. Taeyong is no stranger to you and Donghyuck bickering at all hours of the day, but he’s especially tired with the upcoming recital. For that sole reason, the both of you fall silent like sullen children, looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and Taeyong smiles gently at you.

“It’s fine. We just really need this performance to go well, okay? And the both of you doing a duet will garner the most attention.”

Donghyuck sends a pointed look to Karina, who nods in assent. He sighs dramatically, enough for you to cast a sharp glance over. The dance studio is empty save for the four of them, everyone else not yet here. “Okay.”

“Me too. I’m in if Donghyuck cooperates,” you reply, and Taeyong breaks out in the most brilliant smile you’ve ever seen, lighting up his entire face.

“What do you mean if I cooperate? You’re literally the most argumentative person I’ve ever met-”

Taeyong's smile quickly disappears.

However, Karina puts a hand on the small of his back, guiding him out of the room, and the door slamming shut cuts Donghyuck’s spiel short. Just before you can send another jab Donghyuck’s way, however, Mark and Jaehyun come in, while Ningning and Giselle follow quickly after.

It’s time for practice, and you suppose there’s another thing Donghyuck can add to the list. That the both of you are professional enough to keep the childish comments outside of your actual work, and you suppose it’s the only reason Karina hasn’t bought duct tape to forcibly mute the both of you yet.

You’re sitting on the floor, out of breath and with a light sheen of sweat on your face when Donghyuck’s performance starts. Well, it’s a team performance, really, but your eyes are always on him. Compared to the majority of his audience, though, your gaze is always assessing, not admiring. His dynamics, control, sharpness, everything. You sear his image into your brain, just to compare it to your own movements in the mirror later.

Still, there’s a fluidity to Donghyuck that you’ve never been able to replicate perfectly, as much as you try. It’s something so distinct to him, the way he moves across the floor like he’s walking on water. It takes your breath away, but you’ll never tell him that. Just like how he’ll never admit that you’re much better than him at capturing details in dances, and the way you do it makes standing out effortless.

The way your sharp eyes follow Donghyuck as he moves seamlessly across the room makes him weirdly determined to make this the best performance yet. Your presence is a source of pressure, but Donghyuck performs well under pressure anyways.

The sky is quickly turning a midnight blue when Taeyong calls an end to the practice, and everyone’s made a temporary home on the wooden floor of the dance studio. It’s a familiar and comforting sight, seeing some of them on their phones, others lying on the couch, or going through their routines in the corner.

This is what makes up Donghyuck’s world. The four walls of the dance studio. Of course, he supposes his degree in Business is one integral part of his life, but it’s so much less exciting for him. Donghyuck derives an enormous amount of exhilaration from every minute, every second that he’s on the stage, spotlight shining.

He’s one of the last to leave, waving to Taeyong and Karina who give him a cursory greeting in return. They work so much harder than the rest of the team to perfect the formations, and Donghyuck’s sure that they’re both bound to get together at some point. He’s never seen two people more similar.

Other than you and him, maybe.

That’s the exact thought running through his head as he strolls past the exit of the building and turns a corner to the familiar alleyway. You’re leaning under a streetlight, phone in hand and earbuds plugged in. Your features are delicate, and the blue glare of the phone reflects off your face.

Besides being annoyingly talented and competitive, Donghyuck is also in love with you.

There was a time when he genuinely disliked you. Three years ago, when he couldn’t understand why someone new was being accepted into the dance team and was sharing the position of centre with him. If he looked back now, the Donghyuck back then would seem so very immature, nothing more than a boy afraid of being replaced.

It took him a while to realise that he didn’t mind. Enjoyed it, actually. The fact that someone else understood the burden of being under the spotlight, the responsibility of heightening the team’s energy and bringing out the very soul of the performance. You were also immensely capable and pushed Donghyuck to do better. Be better.

Somewhere along the line, dislike changed into grudging admiration, to a tentative friendship, and then into butterflies that fluttered wildly in Donghyuck’s stomach every time you looked at him.

And then one night, all it took was a few too many bottles of soju and the empty dance studio for him to take that very final leap. The both of you had stumbled out of the arts faculty building afterwards, tipsy and giggling. It’s still one of Donghyuck’s favourite memories that he has of you, clinging onto him and refusing to go into your dorm building.

There are very few feelings that surpass the pride that Donghyuck feels when he finishes a routine perfectly. However, one of them is the feeling of your lips on his. The other is the way you look when you wake in the morning, eyes half-lidded and hair messy.

And of course, like some cliche trope, the both of you had not yet told the rest of the team of these… not-so-recent developments. And the longer you went, the easier it was to just pretend there was no real need to tell them. After all, it’s not like you and Donghyuck didn’t argue anymore, if not made obvious by the events of the afternoon.  It was just that the bickering was now purely for entertainment, and the both of you acted much sappier to make up for it when no one was watching.

There was a fear that the knowledge would just bewilder most of them, considering the fact that they thought the both of you disliked each other vehemently. Karina also did mention that workplace relationships were strictly not allowed, even though she technically had no right if 1. none of you were on her payroll and 2. she had the biggest crush on Taeyong.

“Hey there,” Donghyuck says, smiling, as he grabs an earbud and places it in his other ear so that he can still hear anything you say clearly.

“Hello. Tired?” You ask as you interlace your fingers with his, but not before casting a quick glance around your surroundings. He shakes his head, and the both of you remain in a comfortable silence until you’re seated comfortably in his car with the heater on at full blast. It’s the middle of winter, and as much as you enjoy the snow, the chill also gets bone-deep. You grab the blanket from its familiar spot in the back of the car, tugging it over your legs.

Donghyuck’s apartment is far enough from campus to not be crowded, but it’s not so isolated that it’s inconvenient. You find yourself spending a lot more time at his apartment these days, so much that you almost have an entire shelf in the closet that stores your clothes.

“You should move in,” he had said one day, after the both of you finished a movie. You definitely wouldn’t mind. After all, living with Donghyuck would be comfortable. He did have a tendency to scatter his clothes all over the room, but he was mostly tidy. He also didn’t mind doing the dishes, and the only real problem you would have would be him singing at the top of his voice at all hours of the day. Even that was more enjoyable than annoying.

“How can I move in if you have the guys over almost every week to game? We’d get found out in no time,” you replied from where you were standing at the fridge, and Donghyuck muttered something like we can just tell them, then, but you were unsure if you had heard him right.

“Did you say something?” You asked, looking at him expectantly. However, Donghyuck didn’t say anything, instead smiling at you, and you tried to hide the disappointment that welled up in you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Donghyuck’s question jolts you out of your recollections, and you shake your head. His hand is interlocked with yours and rests gently on your lap, even though you’ve told him before that he should try to keep both hands on the wheel. However, the roads are deserted this time of night, so you suppose you’ll let him have his way.

The moment you enter his house, you’re quick to collapse on his couch and close your eyes, but you’re immediately dragged off. “Ouch,” you mutter when you land unceremoniously on the carpet, but Donghyuck just grins. “You need to shower, and so do I. Unless you want to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“The both of us know you would be the one sleeping on the couch anyways,” you retort, and Donghyuck just rolls his eyes before he passes you a towel and extra clothes. His sweatpants, and a band tee that's a little too small on him.

You have five sets of your own clothing folded neatly on the second shelf of his closet on the right. Even then, you take his.

An hour later, you’re scrolling on your phone when Donghyuck comes out of the bathroom, towel round his neck. He’s quick to make his way over to the couch, and you move your phone out of the way before he can accidentally knock it over.

“You big baby,” you scold half-heartedly as he sprawls over you, legs tangled with yours. He hums contentedly from where his face is nestled into your shoulder, and you try not to smile.

“Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” He places a soft kiss on your neck, and your fingers fiddle with his hair. It’s getting longer, you realise, since the last time you cut it for him. It had taken a few too many video tutorials, but you were getting better at it. Not that a bad haircut would ruin Donghyuck’s looks anyways. However, when your first attempt had not been so ideal, he had taken it upon himself to be your personal make-up artist. Your relationship with Donghyuck has always been like that. Push-for-pull. Neither of you is the kind of person to back down, but you suppose that’s what makes being with him so exciting.

“Can you make me ramen?” You can feel it when Donghyuck huffs, and he raises his head to look at you. “Is that all I’m good for? I feel like I’m a personal chef instead of your boyfriend.”

You nod, making your expression as serious and earnest as possible. Still, he gives in and gets up, making his way over to the kitchen. You’re quick to follow him, however, grabbing everything he needs. It’s a routine at this point. You’re in charge of ingredients, Donghyuck overseeing cooking.

You grab a vinyl from the tall shelf next to the television, placing it gently into the gramophone. This is one of Donghyuck’s favourite records, and you find yourself humming to it as well as the music filters gently out. You remember his expression of awe when he had opened your present on his birthday.

“Y/N, you didn’t.”

“I did. You can’t possibly have that many records and no gramophone to play them.”

“But this is so expensive.”

“It was just a bunch of extra shifts at the cafe,” had been your nonchalant reply, and Donghyuck’s eyes were soft when he looked up at you, almost glistening. The both of you were seated on the floor, the cake half-eaten on Donghyuck's table that both functioned as a study area and a place to eat.

“Thank you, Y/N. But,” Donghyuck leans over, until he’s barely centimetres from you. His lips are next to your ear, and you can hear your breath hitch.

“I’ll get you an even better present next year. You know me. I can’t lose.” His grin is full of mirth now, and you scoff.

“Even for this?”

“Even for this.”

“It’s still in such good condition,” you mumble to yourself as your fingers brush over the lacquered wood.

“Of course it is. You gave it to me.” You didn’t realize Donghyuck had heard you, but his comment causes your heartbeat to speed up just slightly. The pot is simmering gently on the stove, and Donghyuck turns to look at you. Here, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the studio, is your favourite version of Donghyuck. Not the dance team’s ace, the mini campus celebrity, but your Donghyuck.

Of course, you love the other versions of him too. But this, the Donghyuck standing under his kitchen lights with grey sweatpants and messy hair, is a sight that belongs to you and you only. And god forbid that he's not the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life.

You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Donghyuck isn’t that much taller than you, but in close proximity, he still cranes his neck down to meet your gaze directly. His arms wrap around your waist instinctively, and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his palms through the thin shirt you’re wearing.

“What’s with the sudden affection?” He asks, and you lean into his chest, eyes closed. “Nothing. I just like you. A lot.” The way his chest rumbles slightly tells you that he’s trying to hide a chuckle, but you know Donghyuck enjoys the sweet words, even if he teases you about it.

“Dance with me.” It’s an odd request, considering the both of you are tired out from practice, but you nod, and Donghyuck smiles.

“Wait, but the music. Shouldn’t we change it?”

“No, it’s fine. We can just dance to this.”

Donghyuck pulls you away from the stove and nearer to the couch, where there’s open space. It’s less dancing, and more of a poorly-imitated ballroom waltz. The both of you had only taken one waltz lesson during the team's annual retreat, when Taeyong had thought it a good idea to ‘diversify genres’. However, after Jaehyun had narrowly avoided crashing into a glass display and Chenle caused the team to receive a noise complaint, you suppose Taeyong had scrapped any further ideas of forcing everyone to take mandatory lessons.

It was memorable to you for an entirely different reason, however. It was the first time you began to see Donghyuck in a different light, being forced to partner with him for all three days. The both of you had quickly resolved to outdo everyone else, kickstarting a temporary truce which spiralled to well…this.

Donghyuck’s arms gently circle around your waist as the both of you take light footsteps from one end of the living room to the other. You’ve always found it easy to sync with him, and you’re guessing it just boils down to natural chemistry. That, and the fact that you’re so familiar with the way Donghyuck moves from watching him dance day in and day out.

There was a fascination with university that everyone else had, that you often failed to grasp. It had just seemed like a natural progression, rather than a hard-earned escape to a utopian place where you were an adult free to do what you wanted. The past three years had been some of the best in your life, mainly owing to the fact that you had a major you enjoyed and a dance team that simultaneously functioned as your closest group of friends.

You realise that Donghyuck has been present for its entirety. He had been there when you were accepted to the dance team, and then made centre alongside him a year later. He had been there when you did your first showcase and solo act, running down from the stage breathless afterwards. When you got your first injury, he was the one who told Taeyong for you, and convinced him that you could still fill the role with enough rest. Donghyuck was the one who found you crying in the studio when you got a failing grade on one of your exams, and who sat with you silently until your eyes were no longer red.

There’s only one year until you graduate, but Donghyuck’s presence in your life is as constant as the air you need to breathe.

It was easy to say farewell to your friends from high school, with an easy promise to maintain contact. But it’s so very different with Donghyuck, who fills up every crevice of your life effortlessly with his little habits.

You had wondered if you had fallen too fast for Donghyuck. After all, the change from rivals to friends to romantic feelings had been alarming, because you could rarely think straight when it came to him. Yet, looking at him now, you’re convinced that you want to spend as much time with Donghyuck as possible, before the worries of adulthood start creeping in.

Call it young ambition, but something about Donghyuck just makes you want to take chances. To let loose and live a little easier. Maybe it’s because he’s able to make you happy with the simplest things, and he’s so easy to love. Which is why you suppose you can finally make a decision, even though your heart has probably been silently waiting to say yes.

“If I move in, I want counter space. And also half of the closet space. And you have to promise to not scatter your clothes around our room,” you say, so abruptly that Donghyuck stops moving entirely, and you have to pause to prevent yourself from tripping over his feet. He bends down, until he’s eye level with you. His eyes are hopeful, questioning, as if he’s not entirely believing of what you’re implying.

“You’re not kidding, right?” It’s so easy for a smile to make its way onto your face, as you shake your head and Donghyuck’s grip on your waist gets a little bit tighter.

“You’ll get all the counter space you want. I’ll even let you bring your stupid potted plants.” Your nose scrunches at his remark, and Donghyuck has to stop himself from cooing at your expression.

“For the record, I think my potted plants are adorable. And once I bring them here, they’ll be yours too. So don’t speak of our potted plants that way.”

Ours. Donghyuck thinks he likes the sound of that.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

A week later, you’re standing outside the dance studio with Donghyuck, when you grab his hand. He looks down sharply at you, mouthing a ‘what?’, and then angling his chin urgently back in the direction of the studio. However, you just flash a grin at him. “Open the door, Donghyuck. We’re already late.” He narrows his eyes, but the playful grin tugging on his mouth shows that he already understands what you’re aiming at.

When the both of you walk in, there’s a mixed range of reactions. There’s Jisung and Shotaro, whose mouths are wide open. Doyoung and Mark’s eyebrows are raised, but they don’t show any other expression. Ningning, Renjun and Chenle are in a corner, knowing smiles on their faces. Taeyong and Karina just look like they’ve always known, and are honestly more miffed at the lack of punctuality from the both of you.

“I think Karina’s going to kill us for breaking her no relationships rule,” Donghyuck mutters worriedly in your ear.

“If you forget, I’m her favourite child. I think she’s more likely to murder you for getting with me,” you respond sweetly, and Donghyuck simply stares, speechless, as you let go and walk over to where Giselle and Winter are warming up. He scoffs, shaking his head, and walks over to Jaemin and Jeno, who are already ready to tease him for being a lovesick fool.

The four walls of the dance studio make up so much of Donghyuck’s life, but so do you.

[k0yaz]

SIZE QUEEN READER WITH ROBIN AHSHDHHAJAHAHA

honey.

Pairing(s): robin x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, dom robin, sub afab reader, size queen reader (obv), pet names, strap on use, crying, overstimulation, belly bulge, tit fondling, drooling, sesbian lex bro idk, fluffy at the end :)

A/N: HELP IS THAT A FUCKING BEAR TRAP??? WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM-? Also sorry if my writing isn’t that great I’m lowkey rusty…

Drool piled up around the corners of your mouth as you desperately clung to the satin bedsheets below you, which were tinted a slightly darker color from your cum stained onto them due to the past few orgasms Robin had practically ripped out of you. Your fingers tightened around the fabric when you felt her strap plunge back into you, your walls tightening around her silicone cock with a death grip.

“What’s wrong, my songbird? I thought you said you could take it.”

Robin leaned down to whisper in your ear in a quiet and gentle voice. Your halovian lover’s warm breath tickled the shell of your ear, eliciting a sharp gasp from your feverish lips. Your sound of surprise was immediately replaced with a loud moan when you felt her hips roll up against yours, her cock hitting that one gummy spot inside you.

Her slender fingers traced up your back, circling along the skin of your nape gently.

“Such a pretty girl..” Robin cooed, leaning down to press her lips against the side of your neck. Her hand snaked downward to circle around your waist while she continued to brush her lips along your throat. She moaned against the crook of your neck when she felt the vibrations of your own throaty noises against her lips.

You nearly screamed the moment you felt her hand dart down to circle your puffy swollen clit, her soft fingers working along your nub gently, mixed with the way her cock stretched you out made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your grip around the sheets nearly tore up the satin sheets upon feeling the fake veins drag along your walls, with quick and shallow breaths spilling out of your lips.

Robin pushed herself forward once again, burying her strap inside your cunt as far as possible. A melodic whine left the singer’s throat as she ground her hips against yours, the skin to skin contact driving both of you insane. The tip of her cock brushed against your sweet spot, making you cry out.

“R-Robin please-!” You barely drawled out. You could barely form words from how good your girlfriend was fucking you into the mattress. Every little noise you let out cut off any potential words that you could even mutter, which was exactly what Robin wanted. She merely flashed you a lovesick smile when you turned around to look at her through glassy eyes, before thrusting herself into you once again.

Soft fingers suddenly gripped your wrist that was holding the mattress, pushing it down in place. Robin reached her free hand that wasn’t holding you down over to your chin. Her index finger slipped under your chin, and her thumb brushed along your bottom lip, gently tilting your head up to look at her. Her face inched closer to you, closing the distance between you two before she pressed her lips against yours.

“Sweetheart, can you lay on your back?” She whispered, her voice sweet like honey. You nodded, letting out a small whimper when she pulled out to give you room to adjust. You scrambled onto your knees, before rolling over with your back pressed against the mattress. Without hesitation, Robin practically shoved her monstrous strap into you, earning a high pitched yelp. She immediately shoved the whole thing back into you, stretching you out once again.

Filthy noises of her cock sliding in and out of your pussy echoed throughout the room, the wet squelching sounds of your essences practically bouncing off the walls of what’s basically your sanctuary in this moment. Robin only smiled at your tear stained eyes, leaning down to kiss your cheekbone as a rather odd way of wiping away your tears. Then again, both of her hands were occupied, with one hand on your tit, and the other holding your hand.

“(Name)? My songbird? Can you look down for a moment?” Robin breathed in a soft voice, her fingers lacing with yours. You only let out a whine in response, before your teary eyed gaze trailed down to your lower abdomen. Your vision was blurry, but you couldn’t mistake the prominent bulge in your lower abdomen which disappeared and reappeared with every thrust the halovian delivered to your abused cunt.

You let out a breathy cry and let go of her hand to grasp onto her back, fingers digging into your lover’s soft, pale skin. Robin let out a low moan, thrusting her cock deep into you once again. She proceeded to grind her hips against yours once she was skin to skin with you, as if she was desperate to earn more of your near pornographic moans. She continued to grind her hips against yours, the edge of the strap rubbing against her own clit rhythmically with yours.

Your mind went blank as she slammed inside you, walls clenching around her strap like a vice as you squirted all over her cock and moaned loudly. The sight of your cum made Robin’s breath catch in her throat. She ground her hips against yours to help you ride out your orgasm before she herself came as well, her juices trailing down her thighs like a fucking waterfall. She sighed as both of your chests heaved up and down upon recovering from your climax, before pulling the strap out completely.

Robin cuddled up to you after removing the strap and setting it down on the bedside table. Her arms circled around your waist before resting her chin against your shoulder and peppering soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, causing you to giggle. Both of you were drenched in sweat, making your bodies stick together. It was kind of sweet in a way.

“I’m spent..” you murmured, voice still hoarse from all the screaming you did earlier. Robin only nodded in response, eyes fluttering shut as she pulled you against her. She leaned up to kiss your cheek, before holding you in her arms once again.

“Get some rest, my songbird.”

A/N: I FORGOT TO PUT A TITLE SO I SEARCHED FOR A RANDOM ASS WORD IN THE FIC IT WASNT THOUGHT OUT HELP-

@skinblanket

[marysfics]

Through the Dust

Alexia Putellas x DownhillRacer!Reader

It wasn't supposed to happen. The sport, the risks, the focus - none of it was meant for distractions.

But somewhere between the thrill of the race and the quiet moments shared on the mountainside, you couldn't help but wonder..

Did you really fall for her?

This is a multichapter fic, and trust me, you’re in for one wild ride. No warnings so far.

Word count: 973

Chapter 1: ''A Glance Through the Dust''

The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the morning mist rolling down the mountainsides, lingering over the tracks. The trails were slick from last night’s rain, and the rocks glistened with a wet sheen. You adjusted your helmet, fingers quick and practiced, securing each strap as you readied yourself at the starting line. Your breath fogged up as you exhaled, and you could already feel the familiar burn of adrenaline beginning to spread through your veins.

Today’s training session was critical—a final tune-up before the upcoming World Cup race. The last one of the season, and if everything went right, it could be the one that would define your career. Around you, other riders were focused on their routines, checking tires, adjusting brakes, psyching themselves up with little rituals and half-spoken mantras.

Somewhere in the crowd, you noticed a group of women in navy blue tracksuits watching from the sidelines. A few had phones out, recording snippets of the racers as they tore down the course. It was unusual to see spectators this close to the training grounds, but you quickly shrugged it off, too focused on your run to pay much attention.

What you didn’t know was that they were FC Barcelona Femení, the world-renowned women’s football team, here for some preseason team-building. It wasn’t every day that they found themselves in a remote mountain resort, surrounded by some of the best downhill racers in the world. And among them, Alexia Putellas stood with her arms crossed, watching the racers with a skeptical look in her eyes.

“What’s the appeal?” she murmured to her teammate, Mapi León, who had already developed a keen interest in the sport.

“Come on, Ale,” Mapi nudged her. “It’s not that different from what we do. Well, aside from the whole gravity and wheels thing. But the risk, the intensity—it’s the same thrill, no?”

Alexia shook her head, her brows furrowed. “I get the thrill of sport. I don’t get the thrill of actively throwing yourself down a mountain.”

Mapi laughed, her eyes following the riders who zoomed by, leaving trails of dust and sprays of mud in their wake. “Maybe it’s just not for you, then.”

Alexia smirked, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, it’s not. I’m happy enough with grass and a ball at my feet, thank you.”

But Mapi knew Alexia well enough to catch the slight glint of intrigue in her eye, even if she’d never admit it. The rider in the distance, the one with the sleek bike and determined eyes, had already caught her attention—even if she didn’t quite realize it yet.

As you mounted your bike, the nerves finally settled. It was just you and the mountain now. You’d mapped out every corner, memorized every rock, every patch of gravel. You knew this course like the back of your hand, and even though you were aware of the crowd at the sidelines, their presence was just a faint blur at the edge of your vision.

The horn sounded, and you pushed off, speeding down the first stretch, your bike absorbing the shocks from the rough trail. Every twist and turn of the course felt like second nature, the rush of speed exhilarating, the wind slicing past your face. You could barely hear the cheers, but you felt their pulse in the air around you.

As you approached a tight turn leading into a jump, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face—the tall, blonde woman from earlier, her gaze following your every move. You weren’t sure why you noticed her specifically, but something about the way she watched you felt different from the rest of the crowd.

The jump was fast approaching, and with a quick, practiced movement, you leaned back, bracing as your tires lifted off the ground, sailing smoothly over the jump. You landed cleanly on the other side but hadn’t accounted for a slick patch of mud waiting just past it. The tires lost their grip, and suddenly, everything went sideways.

Your shoulder slammed into the ground, pain radiating through you as you skidded to a stop. You felt the dirt and gravel scrape against your skin, the impact sharp and unforgiving.

As you tried to gather yourself, the first thing you saw through the haze of dust was her. Alexia was right at the front of the crowd, her expression shifting from shock to worry. It was a strange comfort, somehow, to see her there, a face both familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

You pushed yourself up slowly, wincing, but your gaze stayed locked with hers. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were in your own world, a bubble outside of the noise of the crowd and the ache of the fall.

She took a hesitant step forward, as if she was debating whether to come over. But she didn’t. Instead, she lingered there, staring at you with an unreadable expression, her brow slightly furrowed, her mouth parted as if she wanted to say something.

You gave her a small nod—an attempt to reassure her, even though you didn’t owe her anything. She returned it with a tight smile, and her shoulders relaxed a little, though her eyes remained fixed on you, curiosity and caution mingling.

“Are you alright?” a nearby medic asked, breaking your connection with Alexia as they checked you over. You assured them you were fine, and though your shoulder throbbed, the pain was something you could ignore.

When you glanced back, Alexia was still there, her gaze intense, watching you with an expression that was almost… impressed? You weren’t sure. But as you picked yourself up and prepared for the next run, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths would cross.

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

End of Chapter 1.

More Chapters: click here

[sematarygirls]

🍃 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── getting high and making out with barry

   you huffed, making your way back to your bedroom as loud music pounded in your ears and practically shook the floor underneath your feet. you had tried to get your brother to turn it down at least a little, but he was drunk and probably high out of his mind—as he usually was when he threw these stupid parties—so your words had gotten you nowhere.

you should've known you wouldn't get a moment's peace when your parents announced their anniversary trip, leaving you and your brother in your big house on figure eight all alone for a week.

where your brother was always throwing or attending some big blowout, trying to impress his asshole friends and any girls that would look in his direction, you much preferred solitude. you liked spending your time in your room alone, bingewatching cheesy romcoms, gruesome horror movies, and any and all procedural dramas you could get your hands on.

even you could admit that it was a little pathetic, living life as a glorified recluse that had never even had her first kiss at the ripe age of eighteen, but sometimes, you preferred it that way. though, sometimes, when you were really getting into your own head, you found yourself lonely and craving adventure—not that you would ever go out and seek it.

"oh," a noise of surprise fell from your lips, your body reacting with a small jolt as you re-entered your room and saw a boy sporting a buzzcut, probably a few years older than you, smoking a joint on your bed.

The boy took a long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly as his deep brown eyes slowly raked over your figure, a smirk playing on his lips. "shiiiit, sorry," he laughed. "this your room?"

of course, it was just your luck that a handsome—and way totally stoned—boy would have stumbled into your bedroom during the five minutes you had abandoned it to go argue with your stupid brother.

"uh, yeah," you nodded, eyeing him warily as you hesitantly closed the door behind you to drown out the sounds of the party downstairs that had carried.

he hummed at your answer, nodding as he took another hit. "you mind if i hang out?" he asked casually, as if he wasn't a strange man in your bedroom, which you suddenly felt very uncomfortable in as you realized a man had never been in your room before. the room practically screamed lonely loser virgin with the way your stuffed animals were propped up on the pillows neatly.

"i guess not," you shrugged, your cheeks turning warm as you tore your eyes away from his piercing gaze, looking down at the fluffy pink carpet at your feet. you should have asked him to leave, but you didn't, instead allowing him to continue occupying your space.

he grinned, patting the space beside him on the bed. "come here," he beckoned, his voice low and smooth, almost hypnotic. "no need to be shy, princess. i don't bite...unless you're into that."

your teeth caught your lip, nibbling slightly as you considered his words. it probably wasn't the safest idea to sit next to a stranger on your bed with no one else around, but he seemed nice enough. either way, your body seemed to react before your brain could catch up and decide better of it, carrying you over to him and sitting on the edge of your bed beside him.

you looked over at him nervously, your fingers dancing over the stitching of your pink quilt, carefully plucking at it—a nasty habit you had that was slowly pulling the string out.

"you're so jumpy," he noted, his brown eyes following your movements with interest—his pupils dilated from the weed. "and quiet, like a little church mouse," he grinned, clearly teasing you as he took another drag and slowly blew the smoke into your direction. "you got a name, church mouse?"

you coughed a little, waving the smoke away as he blew it at you. his eyes bored into yours expectantly, willing you to give him an answer, and you did, quietly telling him your name.

he repeated your name slowly, letting it roll off his tongue, as if tasting it. "pretty name for a pretty girl," he said smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours as he shifted a bit closer, his thigh brushing against yours and making your breath hitch. "name's barry," he introduced himself.

you felt a little silly that something as small as eye contact and his leg brushing yours was having such a big effect on you, making your heart race in your chest as your eyes widened a fraction, but everything about this moment felt so surreal—like something straight out of those cheesy romcoms you loved so much.

he smirked, noticing your quickened breath and wide eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. "relax, princess," he urged, offering the joint to you. "maybe some of this will help mellow your ass out."

"i don't smoke," you said, eyeing it warily. truthfully, you should've said 'i've never smoked' in the name of honesty. you'd be lying if you said you weren't atleast a little curious, but you'd always been too afraid.

"oh, come on," he coaxed, his tone softening as he held it out to you again. "just one hit. it'll help you chill out," he explained, seeming to know the exact right things to say as he patted your thigh comfortingly. "i promise it won't hurt you. i mean, it's not like i'm offering you meth or nothin'."

you bit the inside of your cheek nervously, contemplating his words. it wouldn't be so bad if you just did a little, right? besides, you couldn't live your whole life so sheltered and afraid. reluctantly, you reached out and took the joint between your fingers, your gaze darting apprehensively over to him.

"atta girl," he praised you, his voice low and encouraging as you guided the joint up to your lips. "inhale slowly," he instructed, his eyes locked onto your parted lips. you nodded, carefully placing it between your lips and sucking in. "hold it," he told you, licking his lips subconsciously as he watched you carefully. "there you go," he cooed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he watched your brows furrow in your attempts to hold the smoke in your lungs.

your inexperience was apparent when you exhaled, breaking out into a coughing fit that had your cheeks blazing with embarrassment.

he chuckled softly, rubbing your back as you coughed. "it's alright, princess, you did good," he reassured you, taking the joint back and taking a long drag himself before exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around his face. "you'll get the hang of it."

"thanks," you said softly, your stomach feeling all fluttery at how nice the boy was. you grinned after a beat of silence, feeling a little less shy and a lot more happy as your body buzzed, clearly affected by the small amount of drugs you'd ingested—it was just your luck that you were a total lightweight.

"see? i told you you'd mellow out," he said with a soft laugh, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders as he pulled you in a little closer to him.

"uh huh," you giggled softly, looking up at him. your eyes widened a fraction as you realized just how close your faces suddenly were, his warm breath fanning over your face as he smirked down at you.

he licked his lips slowly as he gazed down at you, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. "you're pretty, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "real pretty."

"thanks," you breathed out, looking up at him. you'd never kissed anyone before, and in any other situation, the rational side of your brain would probably be screaming at you to pull away, but he was awfully pretty and the way he was staring at you had your heart skipping a beat.

"you gonna let me kiss you, princess?" he hummed, his gaze locked on your lips as his thumb gently pressed down on your bottom lip, making you part your lips slightly.

you stared up at him, as if you were in a trance. your mind was slightly foggy, and all you could focus on was his hands on your skin as you nodded. you really, really wanted him to kiss you.

his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and then, ever so slowly, he leaned in. his hand slid from your cheek down to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he angled your head back gently. your eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed against yours, so soft and warm. you leaned into him, letting him set the pace and following his lead as your hand curled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

he kissed you slowly, savoring the taste of your lips. his other hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, asking for entrance. you weren't quite sure what came over you, but you craved feeling more of him, tasting more of him, so you parted your lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth and slot against yours.

he groaned lowly as your tongue tentatively slid against his own, deepening the kiss. his hand on your back slipped under the hem of your top, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your lower back. you hummed into his mouth, grip on his shirt tightening as you tried pulling him impossibly closer. the feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin had your head spinning.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard, and he smirked at your dazed expression. "we should stop," he murmured, his voice tight with barely-contained self control.

"right, yeah," you nodded, your body alight with desire, but as much as you wanted to, it probably wasn't in your best interest to lose your virginity to a man you'd just met. doing drugs and having your first kiss slash makeout session seemed like enough adventure for one day.

his heated gaze never left yours. "alright then," he said, his voice still rough. "we'll, uh, we'll finish this later, yeah?" he asked, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

you giggled at his phrasing, your stomach doing flips at the thought of seeing him again and the idea that he wanted to see you again too. "i'd like that," you smiled softly, nodding.

he grinned wolfishly, standing to his feet, your eyes following his movements closely as he headed to the door. "i'll see you around, princess," he winked, opening your bedroom door and allowing the sounds of the party going on downstairs—which had completely slipped your mind amidst everything that had just happened—to fill the room.

"yeah, see you around, barry," you nodded, your mind still reeling as you watched him leave and close the door behind him. a wide, stupid grin broke out on your face as you fell backwards on your bed, squealing excitedly to yourself.

[astrophileous]

A little fluffy piece of reader who normally takes her coffee black vs Spencer having a ton of sugar in his? The two of them getting their drinks mixed up and almost spitting it out at the pure amount/lack of sugar? 🤭

OMG I was actually planning to include a similar scene in one of my upcoming oneshots, but you know whattt!!! I'll write them again here anyway bcs it's such a cute concept 🥰

Warning(s): gn!reader but reader wears lipgloss, profanities, fixation over lips, bashful spencer bcs he's my babygirl <3

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What the fuck?"

Spencer strode over just in time to see you spitting something out into the kitchenette sink. There was no concealing the disgust on your face as you eyed the cup in your grasp suspiciously.

"Hey." Spencer's voice tore through the air in a shaky ball of nerves. It sounded meek amidst the buzzing busyness of the BAU bullpen, yet still, you snapped your head up as soon as the single syllable left his mouth.

Your eyes instantly melted when they flickered towards his face.

"I think our drinks got switched," Spencer added, a little louder this time.

Your gaze played a tennis match between the identical cups in both your hand and Spencer's. The grimace you rewarded him in the next second was possibly the cutest thing Spencer had seen in the past few months.

"This is yours? That explains so much. Ever heard of diabetes, Dr. Reid?" you joked as the two of you returned each cup to its rightful owner. "What the hell is in that, anyway?"

"Um, coffee?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "I may know practically nothing compared to you, Doctor, but I know for a fact that was not coffee. Tell me, how many sugar canes had to be chopped down to satisfy your abominable preference of sweetness?"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Do you even know what real coffee tastes like?"

Before he could produce a reply, you suddenly thrust the cup of coffee in your hand right in front of Spencer's nose. The man staggered rearwards until his back met the wall with a thud.

"What are you doing?"

"Try it," you said sheepishly.

"What?"

"Try the goddamn coffee, Reid."

Spencer didn't actually need to try the goddamn coffee. After all, he knew your order like the back of his hand: iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, maybe one pump of syrup if you were feeling adventurous. He could already imagine how revolting the drink would taste.

But as you continued to peer at him behind your lashes, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips glossy from your favorite cherry lipgloss—the limited edition one that you had proudly boasted about in front of the entire team—Spencer could feel his IQ depleting in a rapid descension. He accepted the cup without a word and took a courageous sip.

"Well?" you questioned expectantly.

"Please don't force me to do anything like that, ever again."

Laughter exploded deep from within your chest when Spencer shoved the coffee back into your awaiting hand. He didn't have a lot of time to mull over the nauseating bitterness, however. Not when you proceeded to wrap your own lips around the lid—the same one he was just drinking from—and downed a generous sip.

Spencer averted his gaze away.

"Hey." JJ peeked into the pantry area, unaware of the rush of blood and inner turmoil that Spender was battling. The blonde waved the file in her hand before gesturing at the conference room. "We've got a case. Hotch wants everyone in five."

You skittered away after JJ's announcement, leaving Spencer dumbfounded and pathetically bothered by the image of your enticing lips. He followed after your footsteps, leading himself towards the conference room where the rest of his team was gathering. He drank a large sip from his own coffee to calm his racing heart, unaware of the reddish stain in the shape of your lips marking the area around the lid of his cup.

For the rest of that day, Spencer could taste traces of cherry on the tip of his tongue.

[beckyninja]

Comfort

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Some light suggestive content

Description: Lady Guilliman comforts her exhausted husband

Here's my first venture into the world of fanfiction, people. Keep in mind my knowledge of the Warhammer40k universe is mostly second-hand. Details may not exactly line up with canon. Be gentle, please!

By the damned Throne, I am tired.

Roboute Guilliman, Primarch, Lord of Ultramar, Lord Regent of the Imperium of Man, held his head in his hands. The words on the parchment before him blurred. He blinked rapidly, to little effect. His eyes burned.

What time is it, anyway?

The minutes, hours, days even, merged together in his mind. That same mind normally buzzed with a thousand thoughts, plans, theoreticals, and practicals. Not now, though. It seemed exhaustion had finally won. He felt… numb.

Why do I even bother? Why keep fighting?

He rubbed his hands over his face, struggling against the despair that had begun to haunt his waking hours once again. 

Wake up, you fool! Think! There’s too much to do! Too much-

“My Lord?”

Guilliman’s eyes snapped to the tall, armored figure standing before his desk. He hadn’t even noticed the Ultramarine’s approach.

“Yes, Sicarius?”

To anyone else, the Captain’s face would have been a stoic mask. But Guilliman could see the slight twist of the lips that marked his disdain. That was a look he usually reserved for-

He pushed himself upright in his chair. “She’s here.”

Sicarius nodded stiffly. “Lady Guilliman,” he said your title like it tasted sour in his mouth, “has requested an audience.”

Guilliman winced. “Were those her exact words?”

“She requested,” again the look of disdain, “I repeat them verbatim, my Lord.”

Guilliman stifled a sigh. “See her in.”

A few moments later the door slid open and you entered. Guilliman felt his hearts stutter. Nearly a Terran standard year since the wedding, and the sight of your face still made him catch his breath. So small, so soft, so lovely.

And so very annoyed.

“My Lord,” you murmured, dropping into a formal curtsey. 

Oh yes, you were most definitely annoyed.

He spoke your name, loving the way the syllables rolled off his tongue. The irritation in your eyes faded softly as they glided over him.

To anyone else he knew he would appear the image of the semi-divine Primarch. Indomitable and confident. He knew you saw more. You saw the furrows between his brows. You saw the hollows in his cheeks. You saw the weariness in his eyes. From the first moment he’d met you, he’d sensed your uncanny ability to strip away all pretense and see things clearly.

To see the man behind the demi-god.

“Oh, Roboute.”

Throne… 

He could listen to you say his name for hours. He had, in fact. He’d heard you pant it. He’d heard you scream it. He wanted to hear you do so again.

Your eyes widened. Then the annoyance on your face vanished completely and you laughed.

“No, no, Roboute. You’re not distracting me so easily this time.” You approached, circling the desk you could barely see over to stand next to him. “We need to talk.”

“I can guess what about.” With effort, he tore his eyes from you and refocused on the stacks of paperwork littering the desk.

You reached out and laid a hand on his thigh. “You’ve been in here for a week, my love. An entire week. You haven’t eaten. You haven’t slept.” You sniffed, then wrinkled your nose. “You haven’t bathed.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “I have been working.”

You continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “The administrators and officers are concerned. The serfs are whispering. Roboute, look at me please.”

He did, reluctantly.

“Your sons are even starting to notice something’s wrong.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. “They’ve… spoken to you?”

“Lord Calgar himself suggested I might talk to you, Roboute. It’s gotten that bad.”

“Sicarious hasn’t seemed unduly concerned.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That man has all the emotional sensitivity of a hunk of ceramite. Besides, I think he’d rather be fitted for a dreadnought than ask my help on anything.”

Guilliman huffed a short burst of air through his nose. “Still not getting along, I see.”

“I practically had to order him to let me see you. Yes, yes.” You waved a hand. “I know you’ve given me the authority. But I can’t imagine pulling rank on The Cato Sicarius will endear me to him.”

You shook your head. “All that is beside the point. In all the time we’ve been married, you’ve never shut yourself away for this long. You’ve never shut me out for this long. Roboute, what’s wrong?”

He stared back at the never-ending paperwork. Frustration welled within him, momentarily displacing the exhaustion.

“What’s wrong? Void, what isn’t wrong?!” He stood suddenly, causing you to shy back. “Here, a missive from the Ecclesiarchy, pontificating on and on about my lack of ‘enthusiasm’ for their nonsensical rituals. There, another Inquisitor foaming at the mouth about supposed heretics within my own Ultramarines. And there, the damned High Lords of Terra respectfully refusing to put another of my reforms into effect!” He slammed a fist onto the desk, cracking the priceless wood. “And all this while planets are screaming for aid from Tyranid hive fleets, Astartes chapters are stretched to their breaking points, and millions of lives are being snuffed out by the day! Stupidly! Wastefully!”

He only realized he was shouting when he saw the pained look on your face, hands clasped over your ears.

The frustration drained away, suffocated once more under the tide of exhaustion. “I am sorry, my love.” He slumped back into his chair. “I… I am sorry.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

You smiled gently up at him. “Please, Roboute.”

He stood. 

“Thank you. Excuse me.”

Blinking burning eyes, he watched you scoot past him and clamber onto the seat of his chair. Then, after carefully moving a few stacks of paperwork aside, you climbed onto the desk itself, settling on your knees. Now your head was nearly at the level of his chest.

���Love? What on Terra are you-?”

You shushed him. “Turn the chair around, push it back against the desk, and sit down.”

He was a fool for you, that was the only possible explanation. That, and he was simply too tired for questions. He did as you asked, now facing the great window looking out upon the starry void. He took in the constellations and idly calculated the Macragge’s Honor’s exact position.

“Lean back.”

Something soft cushioned his head. Two somethings in fact. Two somethings he was quite familiar with under different circumstances. Then delicate fingers carded through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

Oh. Oh Throne, yes.

You laughed softly at the groan that emanated from his throat. When one of your hands moved to knead the back of his neck, he swore he was melting.

“I cannot halt the Tyranids, or increase the Astartes.” You whispered. “I cannot talk sense into the Ecclesiarcy or the Inquisition. I could possibly chastise the High Lords, if I didn’t know they’d go straight back to being idiots as soon as my back was turned.”

Guilliman closed his eyes and focused on your words, your touch.

“I cannot take care of the Imperium. That is your duty, and no one else could do a better job.” Warm lips pressed against his cheek. “My duty is taking care of you. I knew it from the day I met you.”

“I love you, Roboute.”

“I love you too, my hearts.” He pressed the words past the lump in his throat.

“Then please, please let me do my duty. Let me care for you.”

What did I do to deserve this woman?

The fact that you’d come to him when he was at his lowest was almost enough to make him believe there was some all-knowing force for good in the universe. Almost.  He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

You sighed in relief. “Thank you, my love. First, we’ll return to our quarters and you’ll sleep. Then, I’ll have the cooks prepare a meal. A real meal, not that vile sludge you feed your sons. Then, a bath.”

“You’ll join me?” He muttered, already feeling the lure of sleep.

“I will.” Your voice was suddenly right next to his ear, “And, if you're very good, we’ll do more than bathe.”

At that his eyes opened and he craned his head back to look at you. You blushed at the look of hunger on his face.

“Sleep and food first, my husband.”

Suddenly energized, he surged to his feet, turning and sweeping you into his arms. “We’ll see about that, my wife.”

As you gasped and giggled, he smiled, truly smiled, for the first time in weeks. The universe was still on fire. The Imperium was still a cesspit. A million problems still awaited his solutions.

But you were here. His personal symbol of all that was still good in humanity. His one comfort.

He would keep fighting for you.

@lemon-russ @moodymisty @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @bispecsual @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog

(I would tag more but I don't want to annoy anyone who didn't specifically ask for it. I'm just going to hope this makes the rounds eventually.)

[worldofstoriesanddreams]

Sparring Session Round 2

Superman assessed his opponent - Captain Marvel, his red-clad team mate and sparring partner. The guy bounced from toe to toe, cracking his knuckles with childlike glee as they waited for the signal to begin.

After their first and only sparring session tore the training room out of the Watchtower, sending it hurtling through outer space; even though they retrieved the tungsten box that was their training room, and Superman's heat vision welded the box back in place; the pair was banned from ever using the room for sparring again.

Justice League trained all members to hone their hand to hand combat skills.

Until Cap joined the team, there wasn't anyone on equal footing with Superman, who could spar with him. Sure, Wonder Woman was the closest match, but Clark still had to be careful not to cause serious injuries, or, heaven forbid, kill her by accident.

Both Superman and Captain Marvel were completely invulnerable, kryptonite excluded, of course.

Batman had found a dead planet the size of planet earth to serve as their training ground.

All communications were done through the earbuds for space missions.

After countless lectures and videos to demonstrate various fighting techniques, Superman and Captain Marvel could finally practice what they learnt, in an all out, no holds barred, training session.

Hal's ring verified that there were no living beings on that planet. It's gravitational force was the same as planet earth, though it had no breathable atmosphere. That didn't pose a problem for Superman or Captain Marvel, but Batman and other regular humans could only watch the session through the livestream from the drones position all around the planet.

Trainers Batman and Wonder Woman, and guest trainer Wildcat from the Justice Society would be watching their session from the monitor room in the Watchtower.

"Twenty bucks says Big Blue will thrash Big Red," said Hal.

"Nah," Flash replied. "Big Red has the speed advantage."

Superhearing picks up everything. X-ray and telescopic vision revealed the entire Justice League and Justice Society crammed into the monitor room, glued to the screen, watching their training session. Plastic man was taking bets, touting their sparring as the match of the century.

Superman rolled his eyes.

"Supes," Captain Marvel tilted his head. "Is anything wrong?"

"Nope," Superman chuckled as he rolled his shoulders in preparation for the fight.

Cap frowned. "If you say so."

"Ready?" Batman growled.

Superman couldn't help smiling as he regarded his exuberant opponent. Their last sparring session was liberating, though way too short.

"Begin," Batman gave the order.

Bouncing around on his toes, jabbing with his fists, Cap executed Wildcat's moves.

The only ground rules were "Don't kill each other. No permanent injuries."

Nothing in the briefing stated that they had to use only what Justice League trainers taught.

Superman executed a Klurkor chop - a form of martial arts he had learned from the archives left in the space bassonet that brought him to earth.

"Holy Moley!" Cap ducked the blow.

Swirling around, Supes performed a kick he had adapted from Kryptonian techniques, striking Cap in the chest, sending him spiralling out of the solar system.

"Stay on the planet," Batman growled.

In a red blur, Captain Marvel's fist pummeled Superman's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, sending him flying into the yellow sun. For some strange reason, Cap's fighting style reminded Superman of a street kid.

That, by the way, was a dumb move on Cap's part. Yellow sun exposure amplifies Superman's power.

"What part of 'on the planet' do you two not understand?" Batman growled.

Supes returned Cap's favour with a punch that sent his red-clad counterpart right through the centre of the planet.

Emerging from the other side, covered in lava, Cap laughed. "Hot mud bath! Your turn."

He body slammed Supes creating another tunnel through the planet's centre.

Lava poured out of the holes, streaming out of the cracks on the ground. Concerned, Cap asked Batman. "How, now?"

"Continue," said the Bat.

In a Kryptonian move that Superman had been wanting to practice, Supes kicked Cap right through the planet.

Emerging, from the other side, beaming like a kid that was having too much fun, Cap punched Supes through the molten core.

The ground shook.

Lava erupted.

Caked in dried lava and ashes, Big Blue and Big Red looked at each other. "Uh oh."

The planet, their new training arena, exploded.

"Terminate exercise," Batman growled. He sounded unhappy, but when is The Bat ever happy. "Return to Watchtower now."