#i am the bane of his existence i fear

[44whispers]

its 4 am and my dad just walked in on me handwashing my totebag in the bathroom (balkan energy) and just facepalmed and walked right back to the bedroom

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 ). ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: His eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ryomen sukuna/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 3.49k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: concubine reader, demon king sukuna, sacrificial lamb x vicious monster trope, fem reader, manipulative reader, canon-typical violence, background character death, reader got a death grip on sukuna w the pussy ngl, breeding kink, fingering, sukuna has two cocks bc duh?, throne sex, cowgirl, no condoms, double penetration, accidental voyeurism, minor exhibitionism, creampies, biting, kissing, pregnancy mentions, murder, blood, gore, didn’t think i’d have to say this verbatim ( but after wasted summer ig i must ) but reader isn’t a good person.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: he is so so mean and yet … here i am wanting his balls in my mouth 😔✊

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

The stone flooring is cold against your bare feet, icy and sharp in ways that you used to be able to say you were unused to — but after a handful of years as your lord’s most desired concubine, you’d grown more than used to the endless chill of stone against your soles. 

Only a few short years ago you’d been sent into the mountains to the dusky temple of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, a toy for him to fuck then eventually rip apart as soon as he grew bored of you. Bound by the wrists with ropes that had scarred, you were dragged up the mountainside and thrown upon a vast stone table, bound yet again with your hands tugged over your head and your legs spread to opposing corners. Your inner thighs had each been granted one deep slash so blood would begin to flow, and then you had been abandoned there. Alone and in tears, night had fallen faster than you’d been found, and you’d almost felt frozen and delirious when the first shadows of a monstrous figure had caught your eyes. 

He had been a terrifying monster, sporting a vast mouth on his abdomen, two sets of eyes, four arms, and two pairs of legs all connected to a towering frame — all things normally singular about the human form had been doubled, and the owner of such a body had slunk over to you all while salivating. At first you’d feared he’d molest you, then you feared being devoured — but he’d mocked you cruelly and cut you loose before dragging you along behind him by the rope binding your wrists with your slit thighs screaming, your journey ending with him casting you at a half dozen women you later learned to be his concubines, and you’d not left his great stone temple in the mountains ever since. On the contrary, your life had become much easier — you led a life of luxury nestled comfortably on your knees atop a plush pillow next to your lord’s hip, you followed wherever he led you to go, and you warmed his bed and his cock whenever he so chose — which was often. 

Today was one such day, and you desired nothing more than to ready yourself to see the man who clung to you as if he were starved and you were a magicked feast. 

“Off to see the King again?” one of the other concubines, Ino, asks snidely as you loosely drape chains of delicate gold over your skin, and you sigh. Ino always started fights whenever she saw the chance, and you were more than tired of it. Still, a verbal spar was nothing for the King to sneeze at, so he wouldn’t make any attempts to stop it; some days he even found the arguments amusing. 

“Must I really answer your question?” You ask tiredly. “He has called for me—“

“As he does every day,” another concubine, Shouko, snaps. “He never calls upon us anymore, not like you.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you snap back, and in response the bane of your existence stomps forward, smelling of the honeysuckle and melons that grew along the mountainside where you all resided. 

“Maybe if you’d not come here and thrown yourself at him like a common whore, we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Inko, Ino’s elder sister, snarls aggressively. Her eyes are dark and stormy, and her voice low and angry like a startled rattlesnake. “We all had a proper system before you came and ruined everything — but that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Traipsing in here practically naked from your first day and swallowing his cock down like it was what you were born for, then even daring to take away my night as well as Komori’s the following day.” Komori was another concubine, one nearly as bitter as Inko; she, however, chose to ruin what few of your belongings she could rather than spar with you verbally.

It was always the same with them — always angry that your lord doted on you more than the others, that he cooed at you so fondly while growls were occasionally sent their way ( growls you’d never received ), and that jewels and silks were lain reverently across your soft skin as rewards for earning his affections. “Maybe he likes me better for a reason, Inko,” you say coldly, standing your ground. “Maybe he isn’t calling upon you anymore because he’s realized how much of a surly bully you are — or maybe he’s grown tired of your once overused loose cunt.”

The sound of a  loud, harsh slap echoes through the room, followed immediately by startled gasps of shock and your face stinging painfully; as much as you all threw poisoned words through the air like arrows were loosed from an archer’s bow, none of you had ever dared lay a hand on one another. 

Your face burns, both from the pain from the hard slap and from a barely repressed anger, as you turn back from where it had been forcibly swung to the side at Inko’s strike to glare at her. 

“You’ll start being a lot happier with your life when you stop basing it around both mine and a man’s,” you hiss before exiting the makeup room and navigating your way through the halls of Lord Sukuna’s temple before finally entering the throne room. He was listening to a few servants of his describe the look of the lands outside the temple, and what they believed the upcoming winter would offer them, but he brushed them away upon realizing you’d entered. 

“Oh, my sweet treasure,” he purred warmly. “Come closer so I can bask in your beauty as I do every day.”

Obedient as always, you do just that, drifting closer before kneeling before him in acknowledgement of his power. Before you do so, you see the look in his eyes, and it sends a shot of fire to your stomach that you know all too well; his eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?

“My lord Ryomen,” you murmur in a voice as thick and sweet as honey while just as deceptive as it would be when a part of a trap for flies. He stands, striding down the short set of stairs that led to his throne for you as he did for no other, and in a gruff voice commands you to stand at your full height. You do as told like always, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch sight of your aching face, which was no doubt starting to bruise.  

He gently grabs you by the jaw, careful that his claws do not prick your soft skin as he tilts your head to reveal your cheek to him. “Your beautiful face…” King Sukuna rumbles lowly, his voice an angered growl as he gently tips you by his grip on your jaw to look at the bruising handprint marring your face, and his eyes are as stormy as the sky outside of the temple as thunder booms amongst the clouds. “Who dared do this to you?”

“Inko,” you murmur quietly, then whine, “She called me a common whore and said I ruin everything. It hurt my feelings.”

“She will be punished,” he promises, cupping your face and kissing your forehead fondly in a show of slight sweetness that you knew he showed no other and strove to keep hidden at all times. Typically his words would comfort you, but not today. You were tired of Inko’s behavior, and a week locked alone in a room with nothing but bread and milk was no longer fitting in your eyes. 

You wanted her dead.  

“Fill me with your seed, my Lord,” you beg sweetly, and he groans while grabbing you borderline painfully tight and grinds your crotches together as you stand together in the throne room, allowing you to feel him at half-hardness. “I want to carry your spawn for you, just like you always say.” It was true; Demon King Ryomen Sukuna was a weak man when it came to his almost wicked thoughts of breeding one of his women’s fertile cunts, but he’d not yet filled any of his concubines’ wombs with life. That privilege, you knew, was to be yours alone — and with how desperately you knew he wanted it, you’d get your prize of Inko’s head on a golden plate and he would get his of the instinctual want for an heir before the week was up. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, standing as high on your tiptoes as you can to do so, and as usual he dips down so you can mouth sweetly at his skin, feeling one pair of arms rest at your hips while the other gently cup your face. “Let me ride you on your throne, my king,” you whisper sweetly, pulling your face from his hold and closing your teeth around one of his earlobes, tugging lightly. You both feel and hear the aroused growl leave his throat, and you move to nip at the base of his throat before asking again. “Please, beloved one?” you beg lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he basks in the attention from your lips and your now wandering hands, which bury themselves in his hair in just the way he likes. “I want you to fill me in the way that only you will ever be able to. I desire the honor of bringing you life.”

You’re being dragged to his throne before you know it, your words plenty enough to tip him over any and all edges he had when it came to you, and he’s taking a seat and tugging you up onto his lap with a practiced ease that you both remembered all too well. He grinds his cock up into the crux of your thighs, his already hard length pressing against the place you were always bare for him beneath your skirts so perfectly. It only takes a moment for him to loose his cock from his robes, and even less time for him to press two of the fingers on one of his other three hands into your wet hole, the appendages curling just so inside so as to toy with you and prepare you for the vast stretch of one ( or even both ) of his cocks. 

“F-Fuck — M’Lord, there-!” You whimper shakily, hips bucking into his touch as he presses one callused thumb to your clit and begins drawing harsh circles on it in time with each curl of his fingers. 

“I know, sweet treasure, I know,” He murmurs softly. “I’ll take care of you — gotta get ya’ all nice and sloppy for me, dear one.”

“No more!” You whine impatiently. “Want you in me!”

His eyes are already dark, but they seem to darken even further at your senseless pleading. “As my foolish girl begs,” he says in mock-sweetness, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt with a wet shlk! and beginning to use what you’d left on them to wet his cock rather than lick them clean like usual. Your heart ba-bump!s in your chest as a nervous shiver courses through you, but you don’t back down — you’d take his cocks and the resulting child of this coupling as well. 

“Oh gods — yes, please-!” you whimper, feeling the way he drags his cock against your slickened slit, and he chuckles lightly before pressing the fat head in. A stuttery gasp falls from your lips as your head does likewise to his shoulders, and you cling to him desperately as you begin to sink down onto him entirely. In what feels like forever ( but is really only a couple short seconds ) he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and you both still for a moment to soak in the feeling of both filling and being full — and the the Demon King decides the time to adjust is up, and begins fucking up into you. 

You bounce on his lap, moaning brazenly like a woman in a whorehouse, and your nails dig into his skin as he uses you like a toy for his own pleasure. Each drag of his thick cock inside you alights a fire in your belly as it always does, and you keen from your place on his lap as all four of his arms rove your body — two palming at your tits, one rubbing cruel circles on your swollen clit, and the third thrown around your waist. 

“Fuck… Fuck…” he moans, biting at your neck, and you whine needily while grinding down on him, trying your hardest to tempt him into forcing his second cock inside. Unfortunately, you doubted he would, considering he was always so cautious not to break his favorite toy ( you weren’t a fool, there was no love in his heart — there remained no heartstrings for you to tug on, only his sensitive cock. ), but seemingly today was an exception as a hand on one of your tits releases it just so he can grab his second length and press it against your sopping wet hole. The thick ring of cream around the base of the cock he’d already filled you with smears across his second as he urges the tip inside, a short scream falling from your lips as it pops in after a long moment of slightly-pained pressure. 

You’re overfull, tears are rolling down your cheeks, but Lord Sukuna just licks them up and begins using your body like the hole to fuck it is, bluncing you brutally on both of his cocks all while still seated on his massive throne. Behind you, you hear the wide doors to the throne room open, but it isn’t until a scandalized cry fills the room that you turn to look while your lord master continues fucking you without a care in the world for the eyes watching. 

“My Lord-? Oh gods, my apologies! I beg your forgiveness, my king!” The hand that had wandered in wails, falling to his knees in subservience at the realization that he’s just walked in on his lord taking his most favorite concubine in the throne room. The sight of both of his king’s cocks sinking so deeply into your glistening cunt had his own single cock twitching beneath his robes, but there was no way in hell he would ever dare to act on such a thing; the last time someone other than the king himself had touched a concubine with their unworthy hands, both had been torn apart in the King’s rage and fed to the carrion birds. 

“Fuck, you’re nothing but my sweet whore, aren’t you?” Sukuna groans deeply, ignoring the man entirely as you refocus entirely on him and the feelings he was forcing upon you. 

“Y-Yes, my king,” you moan shakily, your eyelashes fluttering as an ever-present knot starts to grow tighter in your lower belly alongside the overfull feeling, fueled by a heat that always burns in his presence.

“Cum on my cocks,” Sukuna orders through a moan. “Give it to me, I command you — I want to feel your cunt pulse around me as you come undone.” As he speaks he speeds up the circles he was drawing on your clit, and within moments you’re falling apart around him, crying out in ecstasy as he lets out a demonic roar and oresses himself as deeply inside as he can before emptying his balls. Faintly you register his eyes rolling back as he cums, but you’re too wrapped up in him to truly give a damn about any of it. 

After a few moments he begins to tug you off of his lengths, the muscles in your body just as instinctually unwilling to give them and their stretch up as you are as a natural resistance shows before being overtaken by you clenching down on him. “No,” you whimper, holding him tight. “Mine.”

“Y’gotta let me go, my precious jewel,” he rumbles quietly, and the urge to actually cry fills you and you just cling tighter. 

“No,” you say again, a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes. “Don’t wanna.”

A low groan falls from his lips, but he stops fighting you. You barely react as he lifts you, his inhuman strength making most any show of strength possible ( and making lifting you something easily scoffed at ), and you do likewise as he carries you off to his private chambers. A questioning noise falls from your half-chapped lips as he closes the massive open door of the two closed behind him, and he just shushes you before pulling the silk sheets and thick blankets and furs back before placing you on them. He’s straddling you, still stuck due to your clinging, and it takes a brief moment of wrestling with you before he manages to finally pull out. 

A borderline sickly wet noise fills both his and your ears as his cocks are drawn from your needy cunt, and the rush of thick demon cum that follows makes you whine pathetically. He just clicks his tongue at you and tugs on a rope made of golden chord that would ring a bell in one of the servant’s halls and summoned one such person, ordering them to ready your nightly meal ( despite the sun still being up ) so you could eat then sleep at your own leisure. Once the trembling man is gone, he joins you in bed. 

“I hope you meant your urging for me to grant you a child,” he purrs, biting at your shoulder while you press close to him. He pulls away, sitting up on the side of the bed, “Because there’s no going back now — you will carry my seed in your belly until you birth me a child.”

None of this matters to you. You had always planned to birth his first child, had always known that it was what your fate held for you — this moment was not for talk of a baby, no. You wanted your prize. 

“My dearest lord,” you sniffle needily, sliding from the bed on shaky legs and sinking to your knees between his legs, then propping yourself up over your crossed arms on them with a pout downturning your lips. A quickly growing puddle of his leaking cum begins to drip on the floor between your legs. “Please kill Inko — she’s so very mean to me, and all the other concubines are too because she’s been here so long.” Your bottom lip trembles as fresh tears start, and he sighs. 

“But her cunt is so sweet, dear one,” he murmurs, and you whimper and hide your face in one thick, muscled thigh. 

“You said she was loose. Besides, she hit me — I carry your spawn inside of me, and she hit me.” You didn’t have even his cum in you then, much less a conceived child — but you knew how to play the Demon King’s instincts, and the slight angered huff through his nostrils betray the rage simmering beneath his skin. All it would take was the tiniest push further. “It was the face this time, the face you own, but what if she pushes me down the stairs next? I could lose my life.”

Growling fills the air, and you know you've done it. 

“Rest here,” he says quietly, his voice shaking with rage, “Servants will be here to attend to you in a few minutes.”

He helps you up with one hand, half-tossing you onto the cushy bed, then begins making his way out of his private rooms. “Where are you going?” you call innocently, pushing a frightened tremor into your voice. “My lord Ryomen, please don’t leave me — I’m always so frightened without you!”

He stops in the middle of the room; you can see him shaking with anger. “I have business to attend to,” he says through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes glitter. “Come back to me soon, beloved one — I miss you desperately every moment you are away.” 

A grunt is your only response, and he exits the room as servants wheel in your dinner. You curl up prettily in his massive nest of a bed, and you peruse the options he’d granted you eagerly. When he was done, he’d use the excess rage to fuck you again — you’d need to quell what appetite you have now and then some if you wanted enough energy to survive. 

In the distance, furious roaring mixes with shrill, fearful screaming, and you delicately tug apart the roast duck you’d been served as the sounds of more concubines than just Inko being killed fills the temple. Servants cower, and the younger cupbearers whimper, but you just smile softly and hold out your emptied cup. 

“I would like more pear juice, please.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[dumbseee]

just friends, right?

when you and daniel are just friends, or maybe more?

daniel ricciardo x reader.

fc: kendall jenner.

liked by y/n, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1 729 991 others.

danielriccardo: happy birthday to the light of my life (and the bane of my existence.)

_

fan1: anthony bridgerton said the same thing about his future wife 🤭

fan2: the whole world knows except them

fan3: JUST DATE UGHHH

fan4: drop the act and get married omg

landonorris: mommy and daddy <3

fan5: not lando shipping them too

fan6: i just know his camera roll is full of her

maxverstappen1: @.fan6 it is.

fan7: AAAHAJJSOSLSOPXPCPC

fan8: not lando AND max exposing them

fan9: they’re so meant to be

fan10: "the light of my life" when is someone going to refer to me like this??

fan11: daniel is so sweet with y/n :(

fan12: mind you he posted that one minute before midnight so he could be the first one to wish her a happy birthday :((((

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you were dancing along the music with your girls when you suddenly felt a presence behind you. you were in a crowded club with some friends to celebrate daniel’s return to the grid as a driver for alpha tauri. you turned around to face the guy who clearly was seeking your attention and you smiled when you saw a cute blonde guy smiling back at you. the two of you started dancing together, his hands on your waist and yours around his neck. he was cute, and you could take him home with you but something was off. your mind tried to think of why but your heart already knew.

suddenly, the guy was ripped away from you and pushed far back. you blinked in confusion and saw daniel, now standing in front of you, he glared at the guy before returning his attention to you. his usual warm smile was gone and his eyes were now cold. "what is wrong with you?" you yelled over the music. he didn’t respond but instead he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the crowd. he ignored your complaints and finally stopped when you two were now in the parking lot. "care to explain what’s gotten into you, joseph?" you crossed your arms. he took a step closer to you which made you frown and almost take one back. "he was too close to you for my liking." you scoffed and laughed at his answer. "so what? you’re not my dad." you rolled your eyes and tried to go back inside the club but daniel blocked you again. "then what am i to you?" he asked in a low tone, sending shivers all over your body.

"daniel. you’re my-…" he cut you, closing his eyes and pinning you against the wall. "say that we’re just friends, i fucking dare you." you looked at him, completely lost, your cheeks were burning hot because of the way he was looking at you and how close the two of you were. your lips remained shut as you didn’t know what to say, you knew daniel your whole life, he was your best friend, your favorite person on earth, basically your soul mate. in all those years or friendship you did question your true feelings for him, but you never crossed the friendship line. what you had with daniel was too precious to ruin it because of your feelings. "say it, y/n." he repeated, you swallowed and closed your eyes, keeping the eye contact was way too hard for you. you couldn’t see it but seeing you being so flustered made daniel smile, he was happy to see the effect he had on you, and that his feelings weren’t one sided like he feared. "can i kiss you?" you opened your eyes and nodded slowly. daniel gently kissed your lips, his hands resting on your hips while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself against him. the kiss grew more passionate, more eager.

you dreamed of that moment for years, you couldn’t believe that it was finally happening. you were kissing your best friend, and it felt right.

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, isahernaez and 729 019 others.

y/n: random dump because i still don’t have a jpg account to empty my camera roll

_

fan1: AAAAAAH THE CUTIES

fan2: the first couple pictures we get 🥺

fan3: that’s mom and dad right here

isahernaez: finally!!

maxverstappen1: @.charles_leclerc you owe me 100€ man

charles_leclerc: damn it

fan4: NOT THE BOYS MAKING BETS ON THEM

fan5: y/n was already the queen of wags even before she became a wag

fan6: their love story is the cutest ever

fan7: who said friends to lovers was a boring trope because look at THEM

fan8: the speech he did after his first race since his hiatus, when he thanked her was so cute tho

fan9: i just hope it won’t end badly bc their friendship was superior

fan10: now be happy

fan11: YESSSSSSSS

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taglist: @ferrariloverr

[viviennevermillion]

when they know you like them

⟡ notes: first time writing for record of ragnarok yayy! guys if you haven't seen this show you should watch it, we have tournament arc, pretty men and sad backstories. comments are appreciated.

⟡ contains: character x gn!reader, how they act when they know you like them but you haven't told them, varying lengths because i am inherently biased

⟡ characters: buddha, beelzebub, hades, nikola

⟡ warnings: all of these are fluff except for beel's which is full of soul-crushing angst i am sorry

He's such a tease and you can't even be mad at him because unlike Loki or Hermes he's genuinely sweet about it. He overheard Brunhilde talking about how you like him and he decided to have some fun with it first before he confesses.

You meet him by the tree he likes to relax under before his fight and he's happy to see you. "Hi fam! What a pleasant surprise!", he exclaims and waves at you when he sees you walking towards him from a distance, "to what do I owe the honor?"

When you tell him you just wanted to wish him luck before his battle, he grins and pats your head repeatedly before resorting to poking your cheek. "That's sweet of you, bud", he sits down under the tree again and pats the patch of grass by his side, gesturing for you to join him; an offer which you gladly accept.

"I know you don't like being told what to do", you start and let out a sigh, "but don't you die on me out there..."

He lets out a hearty laugh.

"I'll accept it this once, because it's you", he chuckles and leans closer, whispering in your ear with a tone of voice that sounds like it's laced with honey, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're worried about dear old me..."

You stay silent in response to this, which just seems to amuse him more. "You know…best not to lose yourself in worry and fear, it does not do you any good", he warns with a challenging tone, cupping your cheek gently to inspect the emotion that's showing on your face, "getting too attached can often be our demise..."

"I'm good, thank you", you reply dryly, not giving in to his teasing. You reach into your bag to pull out some candy you brought along. "Offer for my favorite god", you state nonchalantly and hand it to him. "So I'm your favorite, huh?", he chuckles, booping your nose, "that's interesting."

He eats some of the candy and remarks that it's tasty before his attention shifts to you again. "I found meditation can help with worries like yours", he explains but can't hide the smile that's tucking at the corner of his lips, as he's fully aware how easily your focus shifts when he's around, "I can show you some techniques if you'd like."

So he spends the next 10 minutes instructing you on meditation and you're trying, but at this point you're suspecting that with the way he keeps whispering instructions into your ear and leans close to you or holds your hand, he's setting you up to fail. "I'm starting this on heightened difficulty", you mumble dryly and he chuckles again. He's clearly having a blast with this.

He's leaning so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips and he's like "do you feel enlightened yet?"

You open your eyes to glare at him. "You're the bane of my existence."

He forms two peace signs with his hands and sends you an innocent smile. "That's when I'm at my cutest!"

Before he leaves for his fight he gently pulls you into his arms. "Don't worry too much, buddy, I'll be fine", he has his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting embrace. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, relaxing into the warmth of his chest. "I'll see you after the fight, pinky promise", he smiles and gently squeezes you before making his way to the arena.

When you join him again after the battle he's finishing up that bag of candy you gave to him. "I heard you bailed from the infirmary", you let out a sigh and sit down next to him in the grass. "Are you here to drag me back?", he sends you a questioning gaze. You shake your head. "I know better than to try that."

He lets out a satisfied hum and you hug him. "I'm glad you're okay", you whisper and he looks at you with a fond expression, way softer than what you're used to from him. "I told you not to worry too much", he keeps an arm wrapped around you and leans closer to you again until your lips are almost touching, "I think you need more meditation." He grins and plops a candy into his mouth.

You look at him through half-lidded eyes and sigh. "You know what- fuck this shit, next time I'll just bring pocky."

He lets out a laugh and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek. "That's one way to do it."

One word: Panic

He meets you after his round because you're one of the people who tend to his wounds. You're so sweet to him; you have no idea, not the faintest clue about the curse he is afflicted by.

He's darkness incarnate, at least in his mind; only ever leaving his secluded quarters these days to fight; like in the tournament. To fight, never to protect. His hands weren't made for protection; his heart wasn't made to be loved. But who can really help the things they long for in this life?

Meanwhile, you're like a ray of the sun that mistakenly fell into the depths of hell from which he crawled. He had been shunned; detested for what he was, yet you didn't seem to notice. He thought it was stupid. Or perhaps these were his defenses talking.

Or maybe you knew exactly who he was and simply chose to pay it no mind. Also stupid.

He acted cold around you in the infirmary. Brushed you off with quick responses. Yet you always smiled at him with this carefree, kind expression on your face. Just the way his friends had done once upon a time. Images flashed his mind of their dead bodies and the horror of what he had done. He didn't mean to, he knew he was cursed, yet he hated himself; hated that he was host to the monster that lived within him.

He left the infirmary early that day. Best not to spend too much time around people who were nice to him. It might just get them killed, he thought with bitterness clouding his mind.

But you weren't convinced when he had told you that he was fine upon leaving. So to make sure you didn't release him in bad condition, you sent him a letter, asking him how he was faring. To be honest, you didn't expect that he would actually respond, considering how closed off he was when he met you. But Beelzebub was a lonely man. Terribly lonely and suffering in silence without an ounce of company, just waiting for the day someone or something would be able to put an end to his existence. But that was a dream that felt far out of his reach. So he settled for the next best thing: easing the pain.

So for the next few weeks, the two of you changed letters and every time he opened up a little, you felt joyful and loved that you were getting to know him better.

When you ask him out one day, Beel's heart freezes. This was all too familiar... attachment. Something he couldn't allow himself to have. Something that would bring destruction upon the innocent.

He clutched the letter tightly in his hand, crumpling the paper in the process as he paced back and forth through his room, trying to calm his breathing; trying to make the thought of Lilith's dead body leave his mind. He couldn't allow anything to happen to you. He was a monster and you didn't deserve to become the next tragedy in his life. For weeks now since you had started exchanging letters he put extra locks on his doors at night; some of them with numbers only he knew; he'd freeze the keys and hide them throughout his room in the hopes that he would wake up before the monster could escape the confines it was in.

After receiving the letter where you had confessed that you had taken a liking to him and would like to go out with him; he woke up on the following morning with his room in shambles. Some of the furniture was torn apart, papers were scattered across the floor and the door showed signs of abuse and violence; large scratch marks and some broken locks.

He sent you a letter inquiring about your well-being this time. The wait for your response was spent in agony.

When he finally received a letter back; being informed that you weren't anywhere near his room that night, that you were safe and sound; relief washed over him.

But that was the last letter he ever sent. He deemed it too dangerous to keep you around. You deserved to live and to thrive. Nothing that should be cut short because of his selfish desire for companionship.

As the months went by, the letters got less and less. Until finally you stopped sending them. That was the first time he had cried since Lilith's death. The first time he had slumped down on the floor and sobbed helplessly. His room became silent again. He was alone once more with nothing but the shadow of what could have been.

The only one who is actually normal about the whole thing.

Hades is a gentleman and he doesn't have enough humor in his heart to tease you like some of his fellow gods would.

Once he has a hunch that you have feelings for him; he prepares to ask you out.

He's very classy with it. He buys you a bouquet of roses and brings them to you, greeting you with a soft smile that few actually get to see on his face. He appears confident and casual; the only sign of nervousness being that he keeps fidgeting with the collar of his shirt without noticing.

Of course you immediately notice the bouquet. But you don't bring it up until he does. "Hades! Good to see you", you greet him and give him a smile. He smiles back at you. "Y/n, I- was wondering if you'd like to have dinner sometime?", he stumbles over his words one time but overall delivers the question very professionally.

You're a little caught off-guard. After all; Hades is not someone where you notice he has feelings for you unless he decides to let you know. "Oh...", you take a moment to process, "I'd love to!"

Hades is glad to hear that answer. Whatever was he worried about anyway?

He takes you to a nice restaurant on your date, both of you dressed up in fine clothes and Hades can't keep his eyes off you. His expression softens every time he looks at you and he finally realizes how much you make him weak in the knees.

Despite everything, he keeps his confident demeanor, offering to pay for your meal and making conversation with you during the date so the atmosphere never turns awkward.

It's mostly him complaining about his job really.

"And it's not even like they don't know that trying to feed the Cerberus is forbidden; it's very clearly stated in the 'Welcome to Helheim' leaflet and yet every month someone loses an arm to that thing-", he pauses in his rant to look up at you, "I'm sorry if you don't want to hear about my work."

You shake your head. "It's fine, I think it's quite interesting", you reach for his hand and hold it on the table, "hold on- there's a leaflet?"

Hades chuckles and pulls said leaflet out of his pocket, handing it to you. "Rule Nr. 2: 'You cannot actually climb out of Helheim. Seriously, stop trying'", you read aloud and raise your eyebrows, "I feel like there's a story behind that one." Hades gives you a painful expression. "I wish there wasn't."

Hades likes holding your hand on the dinner table and he always makes sure that you have a comfortable and fun evening

Despite his calm and serious demeanor, the man is absolutely whipped for you, so the more chaotic you are, the more likely it is that he'll end up joining you in shenanigans that are unlike anything he'd do if you weren't a part of his life.

Loki once catches him dancing in the rain with you, absolutely drenched from the water and Hades just sends him a death glare. "Not a word." Meanwhile Loki is just trying to keep his wheezing in.

If he feels like you're up for it, Hades asks if he can kiss you after the date. For a man so stoic and serious, his kiss is very gentle.

You never have to worry about Hades knowing how you feel about him because your feelings are in good hands with him.

Is probably having a whole crisis about this.

He doesn't even notice you like him, he just sees you as "y/n, who listens to me talk about science" and that's what he appreciates you for. He has such tunnel vision when it comes to his work that he doesn't even stop to consider how he feels about you until Raiden of all people brings it up.

He's like "Wow you're so lucky that someone like y/n has their eyes on you!" and Nikola stops in his tracks like excuse me what-

"Don't tell me you didn't notice... they're down bad for you?!"

The shared human contestants lobby was a mistake, Nikola thinks

Other people have to spell out all the obvious signs to him that show that you're romantically interested in him for Nikola to "subscribe to the hypothesis"

That's when the panic starts.

"Like, what do I even do, I've never been on a date before!"

Raiden raises an eyebrow: "Seriously? Never?"

Nikola corrects himself as he paces from one side of the room to the other. "Well technically I have been on ONE date before but it was a disaster because I accidentally caused the misconception that I'm trying to build a nuclear bomb, which i wasn't-"

Basically, Nikola has no fucking idea how to approach romance

He ends up sending his pigeon to deliver a letter to you, asking you out on a date, which he describes as "a fun day full of scientific experiments" and he's ecstatic when your answer is yes.

"Don't worry, this'll be fine, I even got them a gift", Nikola says, excited about your date.

The "gift" turned out to be a giant laser he built specifically for you. He was confident in it at first but ever since people kept telling him that usually flowers or chocolate are appropriate first date gifts, he's been nervous. To everyone's surprise, you end up absolutely loving it.

"Oh my god I've always wanted a giant laser!"

"See? That's what I said too", Nikola gives you a fist-bump.

Nevermind you're going to fit together just fine.

Your date mostly consists of him guiding you through various science experiments and rambling about the scientific principles behind them.

"I understood nothing of what it was you just said but I think it's endearing how passionate you are about this", you chuckle.

His last experiment is one where he turns the lights in the room off and uses several lenses and light sources to make beautiful lights in all colors dance across the walls and the ceiling of the room. You're in awe about the beautiful sight.

"You see, this happens because the light reflects off the-" he can't finish his sentence because he's caught off-guard by the kiss you press to his cheek. You then lean your head on his shoulder. "Let's just watch them for a while", you whisper and reach for his hand. He supposes he can continue explaining later and smiles at you softly.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras

Word Count - 3600

Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.

Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???

Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 

Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 

That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 

“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 

“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone

“Hmmm” 

“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 

“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 

“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 

As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 

“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 

Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 

“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 

Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 

Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 

“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 

—-------------------------------

Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 

Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 

Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 

“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 

Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”

“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 

Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 

“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.

“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 

“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  

A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 

“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 

“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 

Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 

Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 

For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 

Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 

“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 

“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 

“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 

“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 

“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 

“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.

 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 

“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 

“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 

Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 

His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”

“Yeah but it’s more than that.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 

“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 

“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 

“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.

Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 

“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 

“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 

“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.

“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 

What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.

“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 

“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 

“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 

“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 

“You know, like a red flag.” 

“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 

“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 

“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 

“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 

That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 

[seichira]

the missiles we fire.

wherein ran haitani knows he has to let you go but he just can’t. he is aware that you’re hurting because of him but he chooses to string you along—until you finally decide that enough is enough.

pairing : bonten!ran x reader

content : fwb to lovers. angst to comfort. sfw but has allusions to sleeping together. reader with she/her pronouns. ran is a good brother. groveling. inspired by renegade by taylor swift!

he has never felt this way before.

no one has ever made him want to fix himself up. there is no other person who has made him wish that he had a better past so he can be a better person in the present.

ran haitani has never considered the thought of compromising and adjusting himself for one person until he met you—the bane of his damn existence.

not a single soul in his pathetic, dull world could make him feel the way you do. that is exactly why he is guarding his heart more than he ever has, because he smells the danger that comes with you, the danger of falling in love and getting hurt beyond repair.

he met you a year ago and you have been by his side since then, but he has not given you his heart. you sleep beside him on most nights when he needs you, but he keeps you on arms length when it comes to affection.

you hold his hand when it shakes with his anxiety but he refuses to grip you just as hard. you kiss his jaw when it tenses with his annoyance but you don’t miss the way he pulls away whenever you do so.

your bodies are intimate with each other most nights but while your heart is all laid out for him to take, his is the opposite. his heart is guarded by a strong wall that he never lets down. a wall you can’t seem to get past.

but lately, he can feel the guards on his heart wavering. and lately, he doesn’t want to see you because ran knows he is close to breaking down everything to let you in.

the past months, he has been wanting to whisper the three words to you when he is in your bed. he finds himself wanting to hold your hand when you walk side by side. he catches himself craving your warmth when the nights are cold. he wants to hold your hand as tight as you hold his. he longs to kiss you back when you kiss his demons away.

suddenly, he wants you.

he can’t have that. his irrational fear of losing rindou someday is already too much to bear. he can’t afford to fear losing another person.

he can’t. he shouldn’t.

he knows all that, but he can’t let you go.

he can’t give you everything, he refuses to let you in, but he somehow chooses to keep you.

in every passing day, it kills the life in you. it ignites the doubts and the insecurities you always had. it forms huge question marks in your head and it drives you insane.

“what am i doing wrong, ran?” your breath shakes and ran notices it as you are resting your head on his chest on the sofa where you both had fallen asleep an hour ago.

he swears his heart skips a beat when he hears you start the conversation that he has been dreading since he realized he might have something deeper in store for you.

this man knows exactly what you are talking about, but he decides to play dumb. “what do you mean?”

somehow, he wishes that there is a way to divert the topic and stray from this conversation that he knows is never going to end well. a conversation that can possibly change everything you both have.

“i want to know what i’m doing wrong, or what is not enough. what else do i need to do.. for you to open up your heart for me?”

he refuses to look at your eyes when you sit properly to look at him. he keeps his head turned away from you because seeing your tearful face will not do him good.

“it’s not what you’re doing wrong. there’s nothing else you could do. i just…” fuck, he curses in his mind. “i just want it this way.”

“what way, haitani? stringing me along?”

“we never agreed to having feelings—“

you cut him off before he can even spew out his bullshits. “but you know that’s not the case for me! i love you, and i understand that you don’t feel the same…”

ran squeezes his eyes shut because your last sentence just doesn’t seem right. he knows that you are in love with him and most of the time, he uses that to his advantage. but for you to believe that he doesn’t love you?

it doesn’t feel right.

it’s not right.

“…and that’s alright, really. i understand that you don’t feel the same, but ran, i think this set up between us will work better if you do it with others.”

this alarms him and he now has his eyes on you. there are tears threatening from your eyes as you stare at him like he hung the stars in the sky, as if he is not breaking your heart in this very moment.

“what do you mean?” ran asks in a controlled voice but he fails to mask the fear that is laced with it. he is terrified of the implications of what you just said. he can’t accept it.

“i’m just saying—this friends with benefits thing? it won’t work with us anymore because i love you. you can… find other people… to do this with, because i can’t do it any longer.”

his eyes start to sting from the tears that suddenly want to burst out of the dam. his fear is becoming more and more true as the conversation progresses and ran just wants to go back to an hour before when you were all cuddled up in his arms.

still, he knows it’s unfair. while he was peacefully holding you, it is now clear that the questions you had in your made were plaguing you. while he was alright, he was also breaking your heart.

“what are you saying to me?” he needs to hear it from you directly. it is going to break his heart but he wants to hear it anyway.

“let me go.”

he knows he has to.

he knows you’re right.

he knows keeping you here will only hurt you.

he knows. he knows. he knows. but still—

“what if i don’t want to?”

that was the trigger for you to break down and release the tears and broken sobs you have been suppressing.

“then, make me understand why you can hold me like this but not give me your heart. make me understand. please, ran. if you can’t let me go, at least help me understand why i’m here.”

ran curses himself as he can quite literally feel his heart being powdered into fine pieces while he watches you beg for him. for his heart. a heart that has been battered and bruised through the years but you love anyway.

“y-you know that i try to give you what you n-need,” his voice breaks so he pauses, “but you also know what i’ve been through. what i’m afraid of. you know everything.”

you shake your head. “is it really your past and your fears that keep you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to?”

he can’t come up with an answer.

“let me go. please, let me go.”

he grips your hand when you try to stand up in a feeble attempt to make you stay. his last resort. his desperation reeks in the way he squeezes your hand.

“i can’t do that. ask me for anything but that, please,” his voice breaks once again.

“but can you love me? can you give me everything? your heart, your secrets, your desires? can you love me enough to let down your walls for me, ran?”

he doesn’t answer, and you smile sadly. there goes your answer—his silence. it has always spoken for him when his words fail him.

at this point, you are just tired. you have no fight left in you. you fulfill the promise you made to yourself when you said you will accept whatever he says and erase yourself from his life gracefully.

ran sees that and he regrets not noticing when you decided to ask him to let you go.

“then, for the sake of the both of us, i beg you to please let me go.”

the daggers that rindou throws at his older brother through his eyes could kill. his blood boils as he watches ran drown himself in alcohol because of some stupid shit he brought upon himself.

“tell me again why you fuckin’ let her go. ‘cuz i can’t understand why you’re sulking like a little girl and poisoning yourself with damn alcohol when it was you who pushed her away.”

the sarcastic tone is not appreciated by ran and he glares at his younger brother in return.

“you just don’t get it, do you? you know our life! she doesn’t fit here! she’s too good for this shit! and what do i do if she gets hurt because of this hellhole, huh? what, then?”

rindou raises an eyebrow, “she literally knew the dangers that came with your life when she decided to love you. save your excuses. you’re just fucking stupid.”

ran stares into space as he takes that in. after a few moments, he speaks. “i’m scared that i’ll lose her.”

the younger haitani laughs maniacally without humor. “well, news flash, you already did—“

“fucker. she’s still in this world, isn’t she?”

“guess so.”

“that’s what i mean. i’d rather not have her in my arms than to lose her in this goddamn pitiful world.”

ran takes another shot from his whiskey and rindou stands up to take the bottle away from his godforsaken brother.

“give me that—!”

“if she was mine, i’d just keep her by my side and love her, and not let anyone lay a finger on her. you underestimate bonten and its capability to protect your girl.”

ran mumbles drunkenly as he gives up trying to get back his stolen bottle. he rests his head on the backrest of the sofa he is on.

“you don’t know shit, rin.”

“nah. i fuckin’ know ‘ya. these are all excuses. you’re making all these up to cover up the fact that you blame yourself for the life we lived and now, you think you don’t deserve her.”

the older haitani starts to tear up at the memory of not being able to give his brother a more decent life when they were younger. he remembers the days when he almost lost rindou to a rival gang because he failed to come home on time.

“the fuck are you? my shrink?” he asks in the middle of his silent crying. rindou sees that and he feels a pinch in his heart for his brother who has always been scared of losing him.

it is rindou’s turn to take a shot from the whiskey, to gain courage for what he is about to say. “i’m your brother. i know it when my brother hates himself.”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“i wanna tell you that you don’t have to. you gave me a life full of pretty cool memories so stop beating yourself up. get your damn girl so i won’t have to watch this pathetic display!”

ran wants to blame his emotions on the alcohol but the words of his brother really are the cause of his tears. he suddenly feels forgiven. vindicated, even—from the regrets he harbors against himself.

his younger brother feels that he is closer to getting ran to listen to him, so he pushes.

“she loves you. i saw it with my own eyes, ran. she is in love with you. while you hated yourself, you were demolishing her. just fuckin’ forgive yourself and love her, damn it!”

that night, for the first time in his life, thinks that maybe it was not his fault that he and his brother had lived a difficult life. for the first time, he considers the thought that maybe, he deserves to have your love after all.

you open your door at five in the morning after being woken up by continuous rings on your doorbell, and as if that isn’t enough, there are even accompanied by impatient knocks on your door.

“i swear to god, if this isn’t worth waking me up in these ungodly hours—ran?”

he had just barely sobered himself up but he had to run to you before cowardice gets the best of him. he just had to tell you right now.

“i love you.”

“ran, what—“

he sucks in a huge breath, preparing to speak in one long breath-hold. “i am in love with you. i fell in love with you way before you fell in love with me but i was too scared to admit that. i was afraid that i didn’t deserve you. i was terrified that loving you would mean more hurt for me—but here’s the truth now. here is my truth. fuck my anxieties. fuck everything. i need you. i want you.”

you open the door more widely and you take in his cheeks with your hands, and he relishes in the feel of your warmth for the first time since you walked out of his penthouse a month ago.

“i’m sorry for what i put you through. i’m sorry for hurting you. i can’t promise that i won’t hurt you but i promise that i will actively try not to do that intentionally.”

“i never blamed you for what i felt, ran.”

an angel is what you are. an angel that he is starting to accept that a fallen one like him deserves. an angel for him.

“i will give you everything, y/n. i will give you my heart because i want to. because i need to. i can’t breathe without you. take me back. please, tell me that you’ll take me back.”

it is an easy decision for you. he is shaking in your hands and there is nothing else to do but finally welcome him in your arms again.

there is no other choice but to take him back because it finally makes sense why you always felt like he felt the same love for you. you finally understand why. your questions are finally answered—how can you refuse him?

ran falls apart in your arms, and he embraces you tighter than you hugged him. he holds you tight in fear that he might lose you again. he wraps you tight in his arms so you won’t slip away like a dream that ends.

“i’ve only ever wished for you to come around, ran. you should know by now that i will stay with you in spite of your past, in spite of your regrets, in spite the way you feel about yourself. i’m here to stay, if you love me.”

he no longer has to say it. the way he keeps his face in the crook of your neck and leaving revered kisses at the back of your ear is enough to let you know that he does.

“my heart was only guarded so much when it came to you because it knew that it belonged to you. i’m letting down my guards, baby.”

you slightly pull away so you can look at his eyes. the eyes that you used to wish upon a star are now staring back at you with the same adoration and love.

“that’s everything i need to hear, ran.”

“i am in love with you.”

you smile, “and that.”

“i don’t want you to be my future history. i want you with me forever. i want people to know us, that i belong to you and you to me.”

“that, too.”

you tiptoe to kiss his jaw and he shifts his head so he can reach your lips instead. relief washes over him when it dawns on him that this is real. you are real, and this time, he won’t mess it up.

the missiles he used to fire will be replaced by your gentleness and love, and that’s the kind of change that he can live with. because it’s you.

[captain-hawks]

ADVERSARIAL APPETITES

♡ — aki hayakawa x f!reader

The only thing worse than accidentally running into the Lust Devil is having to call Aki fucking Hayakawa for help.

18+ ONLY

wc — 1.9k

prompt — coming in pants, praise kink (requested by @antique-remains)

additional content — enemies to lovers, edging, masturbation, phone sex, light brat taming, light dom!Aki vibes, voice kink, mentions of anal sex, coming untouched, dirty talk, anal fingering

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“Hayakawa.”

“Yeah?”

His voice is slightly muffled, and you know there’s a cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth, burning orange embers dangling precariously as the white stick shakes with the slight movement of his lips.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, the back of your head thuds against the creaky motel headboard as you close your eyes and exhale noisily before muttering, “I need your help.”

Later, you’ll look at your call log and be horrified to find that you called Aki fucking Hayakawa to grovel for assistance. Like this is your first goddamn day as a Devil Hunter. Like he’s not the most insufferably broodish bane of your existence. 

You may never forgive yourself for this temporary lapse in judgment, though that will ultimately be a problem for Later You.

Later—when you’re not stripped down to your bra and panties in a dingy motel room with a questionable smell lingering in the faded brown carpet, your blood-stained button-down shirt and pants carelessly tossed over the back of a half-busted chair, filthy knives left discarded on the nightstand where they’re sitting precariously close to a well-worn copy of the Bible. 

When the metallic taste of blood isn’t still lingering in your mouth from your split bottom lip.

When you’re not about to crawl out of your skin with arousal because your simple in-and-out solo assignment was interrupted by an accidental run-in with the fucking Lust Devil. 

The Lust Devil, who had laughed with an irritatingly melodic voice as you tried and failed to decapitate her. Your knives sang through empty air with each swipe as she repeatedly disappeared into a cloud of hazy, pink vapor, the sickeningly sweet smell of which left you doubled over gagging and gasping for breath. 

She’d kissed you on the cheek and tapped your nose with a deceivingly girlish little giggle before taking her leave, ominously lilting, “Good luck with that, love.” 

You’d hardly made it to this shitty, back road motel with the dredges of your self-control intact, almost orgasming from the mere feeling of your car bouncing with the bumps in the road, scraping your thighs together as you floored it. Abdomen pressed desperately against the edges of the dubiously stained sink, you’d scrubbed your hands raw with scalding hot water thrice in the cramped bathroom before unceremoniously stripping down and flopping onto the bed. 

After an hour of trying and failing to bring yourself over the edge, your sticky, arousal-soaked fingers are now cramped and sore from repeatedly plunging them in and out of your aching cunt. Try as you might, every time you reach the precipice of release, your pleasure evaporates in an instant, leaving every nerve ending in your body painfully ignited with need. Pathetic tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you desperately hump your hand, powerless to expel the insurmountable lust burning inside of you. 

Clearly, masturbating isn’t the solution to the Lust Devil’s little game. 

And Aki says as much after you finish explaining yourself through gritted teeth, fighting for your life to stave off the embarrassing urge to dip your fingers between your thighs again while the call is still active. 

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!” you cry out in frustration. 

“Her power is fuelled by the fear of something, remember. But it’s not the concept of lust.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s the fear of lusting after someone that you shouldn’t. She feeds on the shameful feelings of acting on inappropriate sexual desires.”

You raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see you. “So you’re saying I should come back and seduce Kishibe sensei.”

“You’re fucking shameless.”

“I like a quick solution.”

You can hear his exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. “From what I’ve been told, it’s not about physical consummation. It’s a mental thing.”

“So I just need to think about a dirty little secret while I’m touching myself, and then I’ll finally be able to orgasm?”

“Essentially.”

Twenty minutes later, half of the pillows and bed covers have been angrily tossed to the floor in your attempts to touch yourself in every position you could possibly think of—sadly to no avail. 

“Yes?” Aki sounds bored when he answers your next call, and you make a rude gesture in the direction of your phone. 

“It’s not working.”

“And?”

“And I’m two seconds from losing my mind. Can you put that stupidly smart brain of yours to use and actually help me?”

The other end of the line is quiet, so you add with an annoyed huff, “Please.”

You can hear the slight amusement in Aki’s tone as he asks, “What, do you need me to tell you how to masturbate?”

You pointedly ignore the odd feeling that zips up your spine at his words. “Wow, you sure know how to talk dirty to a girl, Hayakawa.”

He scoffs. 

He fucking scoffs. 

There’s a shuffling sound before he responds in a low, clipped tone, “Stop being a fucking brat.”

Everything is silent save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. 

“I…” you trail off, not sure what kind of response you can formulate with the way your heart’s suddenly pounding in your chest. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he intones smoothly, your toes involuntarily curling at the cadence of his deep voice. 

“Laying in bed,” you reply, far shorter of breath than you were moments ago. 

“And what are you wearing?”

“My bra and underwear.”

“That’s too much. Take them off.”

Your sharp inhale is your only response, and though Aki’s normally hard-pressed to even suggest you do something on a regular day without getting a snarky response in return, your hands are like phantom limbs as you comply with his request. 

“Are you naked now?”

You nod, only to belatedly realize he can’t see it, so you reply, “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your back arches upward from where you’re lying face up on the mattress, those two words catching you entirely off guard. 

Aki’s the bane of your existence most days, for reasons your foggy brain can’t quite remember now that you’re naked and dripping wet to the husky sound of his unfairly attractive voice in a shitty hotel room in the middle of nowhere. You’ll certainly hate yourself for this later, for shamelessly imagining the slightly bored look on his stupidly handsome face as you spread your legs wide, exhaling shakily while running your fingers over your sensitive, peaked nipples. 

But oh, if it’s an inappropriate orgasm the Lust Devil wants?

It’s what she’s going to get. 

(And if you’re silently moaning now in anticipation at the thought of Aki fucking Hayakawa murmuring dirty things to you over the phone to get you off, nobody else needs to know that.)

“I like you like this,” he murmurs.

“Like what?” you ask, as if you don’t already know. 

He chuckles.

—

You’re insufferable. 

Absolutely, positively insufferable. 

You live and breathe to make Aki’s job far more difficult than it needs to be, with your snappy, headstrong attitude and your penchant for nearly getting yourself killed on a regular basis. 

But right now?

Right now, that’s the last thing on Aki’s mind. Because all of your bristled, sharp edges have gone pliant on the other end of the phone, your scathing, impatient remarks replaced by the sound of your heavily aroused, labored breathing. 

“I bet you’re already soaked,” he says, shifting slightly from where he’s seated on his couch as he feels himself harden in his slacks at the thought.

“I'm dripping all over the sheets,” you admit. 

He bites his fist. 

“Touch yourself for me then.”

You don’t hesitate—he knows that because he can immediately hear the lewd, squelching sound of you starting to pump your fingers in and out of your wet hole. 

“Slow down,” he chides, just to be a dick. He can’t let you off that easy, after all. 

“Fuck you,” you pant out with a whine. 

“Maybe if you behave,” he drawls, clicking his tongue. “How many fingers are you using?”

“Two.”

“Put in another.”

He hears a strangled moan fall from your lips. 

“S’tight,” you whimper. 

“How do you expect to take my dick then?” he asks, the words past his lips before he can stop himself. 

There’s a slight choking sound from your end. “How would you fuck me, Hayakawa?”

“Aki,” he corrects you with a slight edge to his voice, not sure why he suddenly feels compelled to do so. 

“How would you fuck me, Aki?”

His dick is straining painfully against his zipper now, a dark spot of precum staining the black fabric of his pants. He presses the heel of his palm against his throbbing shaft to relieve some of the pressure as he hears the damp slide of three of your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt. 

“Till you’re begging me to come.”

You moan for him. 

For him. 

He’s fucked. 

“Would you fuck my mouth to shut me up?” you breathe out, words hoarse. 

“I bet you’d look so pretty choking on my dick.” More precum leaks through, and Aki’s muscles tense. 

“Would I look pretty with your cum all over my face?”

His dick is so painfully hard it feels like it’s going to fall off. 

Aki’s going to kill the fucking Lust Devil with his bare hands. 

“You’re filthy,” he comments, hips rocking upward to no avail.

“Rude,” you exhale between a moan and a whimper, and he imagines the way you’re probably teasing your supple breasts while fucking yourself on your fingers right now. 

“That was a compliment.”

“I haven’t even told you what I’m doing now,” you tease. 

He raises an eyebrow, letting himself run his hand over his throbbing shaft briefly one more time. “What’s that?”

A loud, broken moan follows. “Using what’s dripping out of me to finger my ass.”

Oh. 

He’s really fucked. 

Aki bites his lower lip so hard he tastes blood as he resists the urge to furiously fist his cock. 

“How many?” he croaks. 

“One.”

“Give me two,” he nearly growls. 

“I can’t—“

“Prep yourself for me. Two fingers.”

Aki’s fairly certain he’s never been so desperate to fuck anyone in his life as he is in this moment. 

He hears you gasp and whimper as you slowly ease a second lubricated finger up your ass, knows it’s shoved all the way in by the sobbing moan that follows. 

“Okay,” you whisper shakily. 

“Good girl,” he says again, because he could tell what it did to you the first time. 

You keen at the praise, and he hears as you resume playing with your pussy while plunging in and out of the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks at the same time. 

“I’m close,” you sob. 

“Come for me,” he tells you, like he’s not on the verge of an untouched orgasm himself. 

“Wanna feel you come in my ass,” you whimper. 

Aki’s helpless to hide his answering moan, the mental image sending him reeling. But it’s the sound of you crying out his name as you come that’s his undoing—

“AKI!”

The coil in Aki’s gut unfurls like a whip, white-hot pleasure washing over his body as he trembles with the force of his orgasm. Cum floods his boxers, his hot, sticky seed leaking all over his balls and soaking through the front of his slacks. He gives in and roughly grasps his cock through the damp material, riding out the aftershocks as cum drips along his inner thighs, belatedly realizing just how loudly he’s moaning right along with you. 

Then it’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of both of you breathing hard. 

“Did you—“

“Text me the address of that motel. Now.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can 1/3

Mob!Bucky x Single mom police officer Reader 

This is a crack fic, ridiculousness, cuteness, angstttt. 

Warnings: Kidnapping, fluffffff, single mom reader, crappy ex, Mob Bucky is a whole ass warning 

LMK how you feel about these 2 

Part 2

Part 3

-

The plan was simple. Not the most ideal, not the first thing the mob boss would have planned to but desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed this shipment to go through and he was done being patient. 

“We gotta move quick” Bucky murmured, driving slowly behind the target, the dark windows of the SUV making it impossible to see who was inside. As soon as the traffic light turned red, they stopped the truck, swinging the doors open and stepping in front of their mark. 

“Hey! What are you-” 

“Shh, just get in the car” Bucky towered over him, his face stern, cocking an eyebrow at the big eyes that stared up at him. Sam and Steve were by his side with equally stoic expressions, nodding to the open door, their hostage reluctantly getting into the backseat with an annoyed huff. They drove to Bucky’s club, target in tow as they made their way to the office, strange looks exchanged by patrons, looking at Bucky’s latest captive. 

Steve shut the door while Bucky strode across the room to answer a call, breathing a sigh of relief hearing the deal had gone off without a hitch. Nothing had been seized and the deal was set, thanks to his last minute decision. He reached for a crystal decanter, pouring a glass of whiskey for himself when a voice caught his attention. 

“Why am I here” Bucky turned around to face all 4 feet, 2 inches of his hostage, little furrowed brows knitted in the middle, arms crossed with his chest puffed out, a heavy bookbag making his solid stance a little wobbly. “Is this because my mommy wants to put you in jail?” Bucky nearly choked on his whisky while Steve snorted, doing a poor job to mask his laugh. “I can see why. Kidnapping is against the law” 

By this point, both Sam and Steve were nearly on the floor, attempting to keep their stoic expressions on by covering their mouths, covering their laugh with a cough. Bucky raised a brow, not sure if he was insulted or impressed at the sass and lack of fear the 8 year old had. None of them were exactly fans of anything that involved children. It was an unspoken rule; children were always left untouched. He had to break that rule this time though, knowing if things had gone south, it would have led to a gang war which would have been far worse than the stunt he just pulled kidnapping a police offers son. 

Police officer. 

Bucky had most of the justice system and law enforcement at his fingertips, all happily bowing to his bidding, letting his deals and illegal activities slip under the radar. Most were more than happy to comply with what he asked. Most were happy to turn a blind eye. 

Except the departments newest officer. 

The absolute bane of his very existence.

The only person who had actually ever managed to get him arrested though he was quickly released; no one else wanting to get on his bad side by actually pressing charges. 

But you refused to back down.

At first Bucky brushed it off, figuring you’d get with the program and eventually quieten down but no. You were constantly there, making his job more difficult than it had to be, your irritatingly righteous need to keep the city free of gang activity driving him up the wall. 

The last straw was a few weeks ago when he had set up an arms deal with the East side of the city, an exchange of weapons, but more importantly, a possible alliance between groups. Things going successfully would mean more protection for both the North and East and stronger joint front. You had managed to track communication between the groups, readying a team to shut down the exchange, ignoring the warnings you got from the mob boss. 

Bucky was done playing nice. 

It was more than the police just showing up. His power meant everyone listened to him. No one, not even the law disobeyed or strayed from his word. A single officer looking to take him down would have shown weakness; that he didn’t have all the control he should have. Weak links were unacceptable.

Which lead to his plan.

To hold onto your son for awhile so you’d abandon the plan you’d put together, none of your colleagues willing to stop anything on their own, everyone retreating far away from the deal while it took place. 

And it worked. 

He had managed to take your son while he was on his way home from school and you had been informed of his location. Everything else went smoothly; problem solved. Still, nothing prepared him for how unbothered and how at ease his little captive would be. 

“I’m guessing you’re the man mommy calls -” Your son blinked at Bucky, chewing his lips, thinking for a moment before continuing. “She says I can’t use those words. I’m gonna call you Uncle Bucky” He shrugged, plopping onto the chair, grabbing one of Bucky’s fountain pens, proceeding to doodle on a notepad on the desk. 

“You-you can’t-” For the first time in his life Bucky found himself speechless, looking incredulously at the little boy proceed to draw, the mop of dark brown hair on his head, covering his eyes slightly. 

“It’s Mr. Barnes” He muttered, while your son tossed his book bag off to grab a comic book that was inside, drawing a character that was on the cover. 

“It’s Jordan” your son replied, now fully focused on his Batman cartoon. 

“I like this kid” Steve half wheezed while Bucky stared at the little thing in front of him, his lips struggling to stay in a firm line, the corners itching to tug up into a smile. 

“Mommy said you’re a bad man” He piqued, looking at the mob boss from the corner of his eye, “I can’t say you did yourself any favors today Mr. Uncle Bucky” 

Before Steve and Sam could full on belly laugh, your panicked voice carried through the bar, nearing the office. 

“Jordan? Jordan!”  The office doors slammed open to your frantic face, running over to your little one as soon as your eyes landed on him, scooping him in your arms, “Baby, are you okay?”

Bucky felt his heart soften for a moment, watching your heart break and mend itself all at once as soon as you had your son wrapped in your arms again. He shook his head, reminding himself of why he took your son in the first place, ignoring the warmth that was trying to melt his soul. 

“You fu-” You bit your tongue, taking deep breath, keeping in mind there were little ears listening. “How could you?!”

“Had to get a message across doll, you don’t seem to listen” Bucky shrugged while you let out a law growl, hauling your son up and grabbing his school bag, wanting to get him out of there and back home more than anything else. 

“This isn’t over” You shot over your shoulder before leaving the office and exiting the bar. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk slightly, he didn’t like you but he couldn’t help but admire the fiery fearless side of you that never backed down, not even to him. 

“M’sure it isn’t, mama bear” Bucky murmured to himself, inspecting the little doodle your son left behind; an image of Batman and a small Robin. 

Of course you were not able to do anything about the kidnapping; none of the higher ups were willing to put their neck on the line to arrest Bucky and your boss shrugged, giving you a very pointed I told you so look. 

Jordan also seemed unaffected with the whole ordeal, often asking you what Uncle Bucky was up to these days as if he were a colleague from work. Truthfully, you were not even 100% what Bucky had been up to. Things had been suspiciously calm ever since the incident happened and while you were thankful for some peace and quiet, you wondered if he was up to something. 

Nothing was ever quiet with that man. 

Meanwhile you also had other problems to deal with. While work calmed down, your stress was higher than ever looking at the number of missed calls on you phone from Jordan’s father. The very man who decided he wanted nothing to do with either of you the day you found out you were pregnant. The man who promptly kicked you out of the house to fend for yourself. The man who had now decided would be a great time to reenter your sons life and be a stand up father. 

And maybe get some spousal benefits from your job. 

You could never catch a break. 

A few weeks later - Bucky’s office

“You kept this, huh?” Steve picked up the doodle on Bucky’s desk, smiling at the way Bucky’s eyes grew wide before trying to back to his signature frown.  

“Didn’t notice” Bucky lied, though his best friend could see right through him, knowing Bucky didn’t keep just anything on his table, every single item on the desk having a purpose. 

“He kinda reminds me of you” Steve pointed out, thinking back to all the times little Bucky had stood up for him when they were kids, putting on a brave face in front of the meanest. “Kinda looks like you too” 

“Hm” Bucky grunted, wondering himself why he still had the picture. He made a conscious decision not to throw it out; each time he had to write something down, he’d grab a paper below it and carefully put the drawing back on top. Steve was right; Jordan did look like him when he was little and had the same feisty, sassy personality as he did though he was sure the bravery your son had was from you. 

You.

In a strange way, Bucky missed having to deal with your nagging and threats to take him down; business had been quiet so there wasn’t a reason for you to chase after him. You made things interesting; it’s not that he wanted anyone to make his job harder than it had to be but sometimes the challenge was nice. Plus it didn’t hurt that you absolutely gor-

For fucks sake. 

“I need a drink” Bucky shook his head, flicking away the odd feeling he started to feel in his tummy, deciding he needed something stiff over whatever he had stashed in his office. Steve snorted, easily reading his friends thoughts while they made their way to a locked cabinet below the bar counter, fishing for something that would silence unnecessary thoughts. He grabbed a glass, dropping in two ice cubes and filling the glass, taking a long draw of the dark liquid before his attention was pulled elsewhere. 

Bucky’s eyes grew wide seeing the mop of dark hair and big eyes make its way through the crowded bar, customers giving each other strange glances at the little boy with a school bag who had no business being in a gang leaders club.   

“Kid, what are you-

“Mommy’s hurt” Jordan looked up at Bucky with teary eyes, swallowing away the lump that formed in his throat, putting his best brave face on instead, now wasn’t the time to cry. 

“What?”

“She - someone hurt her” 

The thought of someone hurting you sent a surge of anger through Bucky, his jaw clenching as he slammed his glass down. It was ironic, considering the number of times he had wished you would disappear but not like this. Not once had he ever thought of hurting you; at the end of the day, you had always stood for what was right. 

“Where is she” Bucky took Jordan’s hand in his, holding it firmly to ground him while making his way outside and towards the SUV. He didn’t have to even look at Steve to know he was already by his side and sliding into the drivers seat. 

“Home, we live on-”

“I know where you live kid” Bucky chuckled slightly while Steve was already weaving through traffic and pulling up to your street, screeching to a halt in front of your house. 

Bucky helped Jordan hop out of the SUV and lead him to you, the front door left while open with the handle broken off. There were clear signs of a struggle, seeing broken pictures on the floor and a few dents in the walls, the mess continuing all the way up the stairs to your bedroom. Bucky instructed Jordan to wait downstairs with Steve, worried about what condition he was going to find you in. 

You were holding yourself up against the wall, your arm clutching your bloodied side, putting pressure on the gash that sliced you. Your head still throbbing from where you had been hit. You could barely register what was happening, gasping at the sound of Bucky’s voice suddenly in your room. 

“C’mon, doll” His arm snaked around you, pulling you to his, holding up some of your weight. 

“Where are we going” You wanted to fight back but the pain was making you dizzy and spots were starting to cloud your vision. 

“We’re -woah-” Bucky caught you before you slipped, scooping you in his arms, bridal style “We’re going to get you fixed up” He spoke softly, carrying you out of your room and carefully down the stairs towards the SUV. You were in too much pain to protest, slipping in and out of consciousness during the drive over. 

Steve had already slipped Jordan into the front seat, the both of them chatting over who would win in a hotdog eating competition; Superman, Batman or the Joker. He could see Jordan sneak worried glances behind him to look over at you, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. 

“She’ll be okay” Steve whispered to him, giving him a reassuring smile as he pulled up to the mansion. “Your mama’s strong, y’know she’s the only one Uncle Bucky is scared of” He gave your son a wink before helping him out of the car and opening the door so Bucky could carry you to his room. He carefully set you down on his bed, wasting no time grabbing a first aid kit he kept tucked under the bed for emergencies while you groaned, trying to sit up. 

“Barnes, what are you-”

“Just lie down doll, let me clean this up first” He carefully lifted your blouse to assess how bad the injury was, soaking a cotton ball in some disinfectant.

“Ah!-” You winced, hissing out in pain at the saturated cotton ball Bucky pressed onto your skin, cleaning the area as gently as he could, his focus shifting between getting you better and wondering who did this to you. He’d have to worry about that later. 

“Sorry, sorry” Bucky murmured, gently blowing onto the cleaned area, cooling your skin before grabbing a needle and threat, starting on some sutures to close the gash. “I’ll be quick, just bear with me” You gritted your teeth feeling the needle poke you.

“How-how do you know how to do this” Your voice was strained, struggling to keep it steady while Bucky threaded the needle as gently and quickly as possible, neatly closing off the gash. 

“Gotta know this in my line of work, sugar” He smirked giving you a lopsided grin when you rolled your eyes, squeaking when he gently pushed you back down when you tried to get up. “Rest for a bit” 

You reluctantly laid against the plush mattress looking up at the baby blue eyes softly peering down at you, the same blue eyes your normally wanted to poke out of frustration. 

“I’ll be fine, we can go ho-” You were going to say you could go home but it was clear home wasn’t the safest option, not after what had just happened. 

“C’mon, stay here for the night” He wasn’t exactly going to leave you room to do anything else, there was no way he was going to let you go home after what he had just seen. He was more than happy to sleep in a tent outside of his own home if it meant you’d just stay somewhere safe. “At least for today” 

“I-we can’t-Jordan-” 

“-WOULD LOVE TO STAY HERE” 

Bucky let out a genuine laugh hearing your sons voice carried through the doorway where he was clearly eavesdropping. You snorted, shaking your head and closing your eyes at your sons antics, exhaustion making it hard for you to move anyway. 

“We shouldn’t be here” You whispered, feeling your conscious battle within yourself. You were supposed to be fighting for the right side of the law. Bucky was the opposite of that. Then why didn’t this feel wrong? You’d spent countless hours trying to put him away. So why did you feel so safe? 

“I don’t-

“Just for tonight” Bucky stated softly but firmly, leaving you little room to argue. He grabbed you a tshirt and some joggers of his, letting you clean off and chance while he slipped out of the room. He was met with curious eyes peering up at him, your son patiently waiting to know if you were okay. 

“She’s okay, just getting cleaned up. Let your mama rest” Bucky whispered, leading Jordan to the TV room where Peter was busying himself with video games. “Hey Parker, brought you a worthy opponent” Peter grinned, handing Jordan a controller and shifting over so he could plop down beside him. 

“She’s gonna be okay?” Jordan whispered up at Bucky, feeling a sense of calm around the man his mom usually used no-no words to describe. Surely he couldn’t be that bad? 

“No one’s stronger than your mama” Bucky smiled, ruffling his hair before coming back to check on you. You had slipped back into bed, ignoring the way Bucky’s clothes were soft and comfy to wear, his scent making your insides flutter unnecessarily. 

“Don’t you look cozy, officer” Bucky smirked, sauntering over with a glass of water and pain killers, leaving them on the bedside table for you. You rolled your eyes though gratefully taking 2 tablets for your aching head. 

“Where’s Jordan?” 

“Currently beating everyone’s ass in Mario Kart” 

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook Barnes” You tried to keep your voice firm but the playful smirk he was giving you was infectious. You bit your lip to keep your lips from tugging up, choosing to frown more instead but that only seemed to egg him on more. 

“Course, darlin’“ He drawled out, giving you a wink before bidding you good night, “Wouldn’t have it any other way” He turned the light off and gently shut the door, making his way back down to make sure Jordan had something for dinner. 

You pulled the covers up, sighing into the soft plush pillows and sheets, letting sleep take over, ignoring the way your inner conscious continued to debate itself. He didn’t have to help you. Didn’t have to keep you safe. Didn’t have to do any of this and yet here you were. You and your son. Both safe. Because of him. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all...

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc  @buckybarnessweetheart  @pandaxnienke  @manyfandomsfanvergent 

[licorice-tea]

The Bane of My Existence

Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)

Part 2

Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.

In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.

The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.

Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”

Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”

Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”

Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.

“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“

“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.

Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.

Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.

“Why would I be following some rand-“

“Because you have a crush on them!”

“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”

“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“

They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”

The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”

Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”

You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)

“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”

The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.

“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“

“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”

“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”

You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”

“But Captain, we want to go with you!”

One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.

“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”

Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”

There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.

Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”

“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”

“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”

“Right.” He laughs dryly.

“What is it?”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I- I’m not lying!”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”

“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”

“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.

“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.

“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”

“Fine- then I’ll leave.”

His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”

You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”

You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.

“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”

“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”

Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.

You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)

Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.

The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.

[koqabear]

2KKKKK!!!! Congrats! I have a song equation!

Tinnitus BUT (demo ver) + enemy!Tae + angst + smut + slight fluff well since they do fuck- but they're still enemies on end.

♫: TXT, Tinnitus (Demo Ver.) // join the 2k event and request something!

"You always tried to tell your friends you don’t get along with Kang Taehyun. Did it work? Absolutely not. Now you’re stuck with him again, and there’s no telling what insanity will take over you tonight."

taehyun x fem! reader // wc: 2.6k (everyone cheer i’m getting the hang of it) // enemies to enemies, hinted fwb (the term friends used loosely), smut, MDNI.

warnings: tyun is an asshole sorry guys. slight hard dom!tyun, a bit of switch!mc, semi-public sex(?), unprotected sex, hair pulling, marking, biting, handjob, slight strength kink, hand restraining, degrading, creampie, slight cockwarming

notes: i’m so close to finally following my own rules abt the word count limit…! (i can’t keep getting away with this 😔)

Kang Taehyun was the bane of your existence— that much was obvious to anyone that spent any time around you.

He was arrogant, cocky, and overall an eye-sore; the first time you met, you actually gave him the benefit of the doubt, getting introduced through mutual friends and eventually forming a group that (unfortunately) included him. 

It was bad from the start. He was a complete smart-ass and had a knack for making casual, blunt comments that would immediately put you down; you’re not even sure what the fuck you did to him, but you do know that you never let a single one of those snide remarks slide— jabbing back just as hard, showing that you weren’t all bark and that your bite hurt more than one would expect— it got to the point where your friends knew that they should hold you back on a leash when you were around each other. 

Sometimes, you couldn’t even look at him; which is why you preferred to go to group events if you were explicitly told that Kang Taehyun would not be there, knowing that you would only ruin the night if you tagged along, more likely to start a fight than to try to actually enjoy yourself.

So to say that you were currently angry as you sat at a random table of a club, gritting your teeth and tapping your fingers against the table as you stared out at the dance floor, unable to look straight in fear of catching a glimpse of Kang Taehyun, was a severe understatement— you were fucking fuming. Your jaw aches from how hard you’re gritting your teeth together.

“Are you gonna dance, or are you so up-tight that you can’t even do that?”

“Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t wanna hear it.”

You’ve been dealing with his witty remarks all night. He’s just come back from the dance floor, hot and sweaty as the sight of a random girl getting all up on him practically made you gag; if you hadn’t been chosen as the designated driver tonight, you would’ve left long ago.

What’re friends for… you think bitterly, staring down at the water you only got to keep yourself occupied— you can feel Taehyun’s stare burning into the side of your face, and it only serves to make you more irritated as time goes on, hoping that he’ll stop being such a creep and look away.

“What is your problem?” you hiss, finally having enough after approximately one and a half songs of him doing this. Like expected, your eyes meet his, and a slow smile creeps its way onto his face as he leans his head back, resting against the booth as he looks at you with low-lidded, hazy eyes— he’s having fun getting under your skin, that much you can tell. You resist the urge to reach over and slap the stupid look off his face.

“Am I doing something wrong?” he asks, and you’re forced to lean toward him slightly from how quietly he talks, barely hearing him over the loud music that blasts all around you— you scoff at his words. 

“Don’t act stupid, you’ve been giving me problems all night— even now, don’t think I didn’t feel the way you were looking at me all weird.”

“I feel bad,” he confesses, ignoring the way you give him a scathing look as he continues, head lolling to the side lazily to watch the packed dance floor, “You looked so pathetic over here by yourself— someone would think your friends ditched you.”

“I’m the designated driver,” you point out through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” he glances back at you, and you jolt slightly at the way his gaze rakes over you slowly, “‘Cause this…? It's just sad.”

“And what exactly would fun be to you? Practically fucking some other girl on the dance floor to the rhythm of some shitty pop song?” Fuck, he’s done it again. He’s got you riled up and it’s only making you even angrier that he’s able to get you to this point— it doesn’t help that he’s laughing condescendingly at your sudden outburst, shaking his head and muttering something that you’re unable to hear from the obscene volume of the music. 

“Why are you here then?” he asks, tilting his head slightly and raising that stupid brow of his, a habit you’ve quickly come to hate, “To have intellectual conversations with other patrons?”

You don’t know what takes over you. Maybe you’ve finally been pushed to your limit, pent up and frustrated with the fact that your friends continue to brush off the fact that you and Taehyun simply do not get along— your fingers might just break your glass from how tightly you’re gripping onto it, standing up so suddenly that your chair slides away from you— but you do know that this was long overdue and well-deserved, throwing the rest of your water straight at him; a smile twitches at the corner of your lips as you take in the way his eyes screw shut and his brows knit together, left frozen as you take this moment to walk away, before you decide to say fuck it and really show him your bite. 

You walk mindlessly— the dance floor is too packed, and you feel as though your body is way too lit up and restless to try and join in— so you’re making your way to the bathrooms, the hall lonely and poorly lit as you open the women’s restroom, slipping inside and ready to lock the door so you can finally take a moment to compose yourself—

“Are you fucking insane?” you don’t think you’ve ever seen Taehyun like this, eyes alight and livid as he stops you from closing the door, slipping inside and slamming it behind him, taking in the way you only take a step back and yell at him to get out, “You need to start controlling that little temper of yours, cause you’ve really been getting on my nerves recently.”

“Oh really?” you laugh out, incredulous as you take a step toward him, pushing his chest roughly and forcing him to stumble back against the door, “Because you’ve been a total fucking angel, haven’t you? All pretty and proper, such a good boy, right?”

“Not my fault you’re such a wound-up bitch that doesn’t know how to take a joke and have fun,” he spits out, unfazed by the way you corner him and send him a nasty glare, refusing to back down even though you seem like you’ll get physical any second now.

“Take a joke? Have fun?” you seethe, poking his chest as you speak, “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a pathetic attempt at low blow disguised as a joke. So forgive me if I don’t find you funny.”

For once, Taehyun doesn’t know what to say— all he’s able to think of is the way you’ve practically pressed him against the door with your own body, the way his chest dully aches from the way you’ve been poking at him, and the way your own is heaving slightly from how angry you are, lips parted and eyes blown out with rage as they flicker up to take in his expression. 

A moment passes; then, your lips are on his, and his hands are on your waist, jerking you forward and forcing you to close any space left.

What possessed you to do this? You’d rather not think about it, choosing instead to get lost in the feeling of Taehyun and push past the fact that it’s him, the man who likes to degrade others for fun— actually, you think you will think about it, digging your nails into his shoulders and taking in the way he groans slightly against your mouth— and you quickly take this opportunity to take the kiss further, tongue eager to taste him as his hold on you tightens slightly.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling the way you refuse to part for longer than a second; he frowns, a hand going up to grab at your hair before he’s tugging at it— using it as leverage to pull you away from him, watching the way your head slowly tilts back before your eyes are fluttering open, looking at him with such anger he can’t hold back his breathy laugh. 

“I can’t believe you, you…” he mutters out, and you can already tell he’s about to say something that will morbidly sober your clouded mind. 

“Shut up and put those lips to use,” you sigh, fingers tangling in the nape of his hair before you’re tugging him back toward you— you’re holding back a smile at the way your hands smooth over his shirt, the material slightly damp under your skin and his hair pushed back from how much he ran his hands through it.

Besides the fact that your hand is currently undoing Taehyun’s zipper and his lips have begun to suck and bite at your neck, nothing has really changed; you can still hear him cursing you under his breath, feeling the way he lets out a shaky sigh the moment your hand wraps around his length— teasingly stroking him, making sure to lead him on but not give him enough.   

It’s all a game of cat and mouse, judging by the way he’s just as eager to try and pull sounds out of you. Though, when he sees his current efforts aren’t working, he decides to take a different approach.

One thing you’ll never be able to deny about Taehyun is that he’s strong; he’s proving himself now, pushing you back and making you sit on the sink counter with ease— his hands are rough as he pulls up your dress, sloppy kisses still being laid out across your neck as he huffs slightly at your wandering hands; pulling away before he’s stepping back, slipping his belt off with ease and restraining your wrists with them— quietly, you muse about him being oddly skilled at it, but you’re quickly quieted by the way he tugs at the belt again, tightening the item around your wrists and listening to the way you whine at the feeling.

“Such a smart mouth,” he mumbles, pulling his cock out as he takes a look at you, eyes drinking in your dazed eyes and fucked out appearance with delight, “Too bad you’re too dumb to know when to shut up.”

He’s grabbing your waist before he’s tugging you forward— you slide slightly across the counter, legs spread open as Taehyun stands in between, feeling the way one of them hooks around his waist before you’re tugging him in closer, eyes challenging as you raise a brow impatiently. 

“Don’t give me that look,” he scoffs, allowing his tip to run teasingly along your slit, feeling the way your walls flutter around him in response, “Or I’ll leave you here and make you wish you begged for me while you had the chance.”

“Oh really?” you tilt your head, tugging him closer and feeling the way his tip breaches your entrance for a moment— your breath hitches, and though Taehyun pretends to remain unaffected, you can feel his cock twitch with anticipation. “I’m sure you’re all talk.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about as far as allow you to continue to provoke him; he’s pushing into you with one swift motion, watching the way your voice breaks and your mouth falls open at the feeling of him inside you, thick and warm and full as you clench around him, your pussy already wet from the way he simply couldn’t take his hands off you earlier; you hope he doesn’t notice it, but the way his lips quirk to form his usual arrogant smile definitely isn’t a good thing. 

Taehyun doesn’t give you a chance to adjust. He doesn’t take it slow, doesn’t ask you what feels good or what you like— he simply gauges your reaction and begins to fuck you, grinning at the way you whimper and whine that it feels good, throwing your head back and giving him access to mark your neck and collarbones, making sure to leave enough that you’ll remember this for a long time— after a moment, you realize what he’s doing, cursing under your breath and pulling at your restraints as he simply responds by sinking his teeth into the delicate flesh.

“Gonna make sure you remember this. Make people ask who you got these from,” he whispers, laughing mockingly at the way you whisper out a fuck you, retaliating by sucking harshly right at your jaw, just under your ear, “Feels good? Like knowing it’s me making you feel like this?”

You can barely process what he’s telling you; not when he’s grinding into you so good, his breaths heavy against your skin as he leans back up to kiss you once more— it’s a mess of tongue and teeth as you both fight to remain on top, the only thing you can still have control over as you sink your teeth into his lip meanly; he only reciprocates by fucking you harder, a hand reaching down to rub at your clit as he smiles against your lips, trying to keep control with the way you clench around him.

You’ve realized reluctantly that Taehyun is not all talk— he’s found the spot that has your body tensing and your sounds becoming louder, undoubtedly beginning to filter out the bathroom as Taehyun slaps a hand over your mouth; sending you a harsh glare, his brows furrowing at the way you tighten around him and your mouth falls slack against his palm.

“Be fucking quiet,” he hisses, letting out a hitched breath at the way you only buck your hips in response, your leg locking around his waist and bringing him impossibly close as you look up at him, your eyes dazed and glossy as you feel the way his cock twitches inside you at the sight— his pace picks up, and Taehyun can feel his high approaching, swollen lip bitten at and stuck between his teeth as he takes in the way you squirm under him, tears swelling at your waterline as you whine and moan against the palm of your hand.

Taehyun is the first to unravel; filling you to the brim, the feeling of his warm cum and thick cock that continues to rut into you enough to have you following soon after, chest arching toward him from the way he leans down in a sudden attempt to muffle his sounds, cruel mouth biting at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you merely curse at him in your mind. 

He doesn’t pull out— if anything, he’s still fucking you slowly long after, a slow pace as he mumbles something about keeping you filled; you don’t even have the energy to roll your eyes, resting your head against his own that is still buried in the crook of your neck, attempting poorly to catch your breath. After a moment, the reality of everything seems to set in, and your wrists ache.

“If you tell anyone about this, you’re dead.”

He huffs in amusement. 

“This is embarrassing for me too, you know,” he mumbles, turning his head so you can feel the way he noses along the column of your neck, sighing slowly before he says, “But I wouldn’t be against it happening again. You know, just to put you in your place.”

The moment Taehyun takes this stupid belt off you, you’ll show him what it means to be put in place. 

But for now, you’ll settle with the feeling of his cock still inside you and his arms wrapped around your waist. (For another thirty seconds, it’s been long enough and you’re sure there are others waiting outside by now.)

[sixzeroes]

walltalk.

summary | na jaemin has always been the bane of your existence—but he’s also been the centre of your sexual desires.

characters | villain!jaemin x hero!reader(f).

genres | smut, pwnp, bnha au, non-idol au.

warnings | profanity, brief description of blood, jaemin talks about murdering reader, slight hostage situation, sex, rough sex?, mentions of blowjob, use of ‘princess,’ giselle (and ten) lowkey cockblocking at the end.

word count | 2.2k.

so, this was actually posted on one of my old accounts before i decided to delete that and move here without anyone knowing. it did get around 400 notes, so if you recognise this, i am the original writer of it!! i don’t associate myself with that account or pseudonym anymore, but i just couldn’t let this one sit in my files so yeah :))

YOU CAN’T DIE YET.

It’s too early to bid goodbye to the world. There are many things you’ve yet to experience, and millions of people cheering you on. You still need to reach the number one spot. You still need to watch the new Disney movie releasing next week. You still need to try out the mint chocolate fusion that’s been the craze the past few days. You still need to travel to Greece and admire the Athena Parthenon. You still need to—

Bottom line is, there’s hundreds of thousands of reasons as to why your life must be prolonged. You’re a heroine, and your career has just begun. 

No, you truly can’t die yet.

But Na Jaemin seems to think the opposite. 

The room—prison—you’re confined to is dark, only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the barred window. In the middle of the room stands a chair, a blond man sitting with his chest against the back. His arms cross over the top rail, one foot tapping against the ground in a rather erratic rhythm. His all-too-familiar smile is terrifying, and you resist shuddering under his wicked gaze. 

“Maybe I’ll slit your throat,” he muses, watching your every action. Ice forms along his hand, creating a claw-like silhouette in the dim light. You gulp, a little intimidated by his power. 

“As if I’d let you,” you huff, sharpening your glower to prove his presence isn’t feared. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

That’s a huge lie. Both you and Jaemin know it. The blonde laughs at your revelation, the ice melting off of his skin. It hits the ground—drip, drip—and forms a puddle at his feet. “Your courage hasn’t changed, Y/N, but neither has the gap between you and I. You may be dubbed a strong hero, but you know better than everyone that you can’t beat me.” 

He hasn’t stabbed you yet, but the harsh reality of his words burn a humiliating pain in your heart. 

“What use is strength if your intelligence can’t keep up?” you sneer, referring to your high school era just like he had. “Don’t forget, you were always second to me in every theoretical exam.” 

You barely flinch when an icicle crumbles against the wall beside your head. The skin over your left cheekbone breaks apart into a cut, a thin stream of blood tracing the curve of your face. Jaemin tosses the chair away, the loud bang leaving a ringing in your ears. He’s mad, and it’s because of you. 

You can’t die yet, but you’re about to. 

Fuck. All because you refused to follow Ten’s suicidal mission. Well, it’s not like yours isn’t life-threatening either, but there’s less lives getting claimed. 

“You know, you always pissed me off,” growls Jaemin, crouching in front of you. Even though he’s left you untied, you make no move to attack him in hopes of escaping. And that’s the thing—you can’t escape, and you know. He knows. Na Jaemin is too strong for you to outrun. 

You spit, “The feeling’s mutual.”

There’s no way you and Jaemin could ever get along with each other, much less develop feelings opposite to the word hate. In high school, it was always a battle between the two of you. Na Jaemin—first in practical exams, second in theoretical. And you—first in theoretical exams, second in practical. To be frank, the two of you would’ve been a formidable pair if it wasn’t for his egoistic attitude and your competitive personality. If it was doubtful then, it’s impossible now. 

After all, Jaemin’s become the very villain he once wished to eradicate. 

“I saw you on television, all your interviews, the blurry cuts of you fighting. Made me wanna wipe that stupid smile off of your fucking face.” 

The rivalry between you and Jaemin wasn’t unnoticed by your peers during the three years of high school. But what most failed to detect was the sexual tension that brimmed beneath the surface of the enmity. 

“I saw you too, on Wanted posters.” you hiss, wiping the blood on your cheek. It’s a little dried. “Looking all smug for a hero turned evil.” 

Jaemin chuckles, prodding his inner cheek with his tongue. He looks to the side, then he glares straight into your eyes. “What can I say? The criminals are less corrupt than the righteous hero industry.” The blond man mimics quotation marks with his hand at the word righteous. “You, too, are a waste as a hero. Why don’t you join me? Wipe the damn system and build a new one from scratch. Doyoung doesn’t bite, you know. He likes pretty girls like you. I do, too.” 

You don’t retaliate with phrases that glorify the hero industry. Jaemin’s right, albeit you refuse to outright acknowledge it. Instead, you snap, “Fuck you.”

He licks his lips. “Is that consent?”

Yes. “No.” 

Your head jerks backwards as Jaemin grabs your face with force, a throb lingering from the impact against the wall. His fingers dig into your cheeks, thumb dipped in your drying blood. Your hands grip his forearm and he tugs you forwards, decreasing the proximity between his face and yours. It’s faint, but a peach scent surrounds the man. 

Jaemin runs his thumb against your lips, and a metallic taste overrides your senses. “I’ll ask again, Y/N. Is”—he parts your lips with the push of his thumb—“that”—his nail grazes your tongue—“consent?” 

A beat.

“Yes.”

Before you can release the entire breath, his hand wraps around your throat in a rough yet careful choke. With brute strength, Jaemin lifts you onto your feet, your knees buckling at the sudden exertion. There’s no time to adjust as his lips latch onto yours, snagging whatever oxygen you have left. He’s always been impatient, and even during foreplay, he shows no patience. 

Your heavy pants fill the silence as he devours your lips, his tongue sliding against your tongue. Your lips that were chapped are now moist, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips. His empty hand situates itself on your hip, and you gasp when he runs it up under your shirt. 

“Would’ve been sexier if you had your flimsy costume on,” he muttered against your lips. “Always wanted to strip you of that red abomination.” 

“Sh—Shut up,” you groan, his hand grasping your breast. Your eyes flutter when he pushes aside your bra and pinches your nipple. The act leaves your core throbbing, aching for more. “Fuck, finger me.”

Jaemin kisses your chin. “If you blow me after, sure.”

You make the effort to glare at him. “I fucking hate y—oh.” Your jaw slacks as he shoves the hand on your neck into the warmth of your underwear, knuckles grazing the damp fabric. 

“So wet, princess,” he jeers, using the nickname you loathed during the start of your youth. “I wonder who you’re so aroused for?”

“Jeno, obviously,” you scoff, and Jaemin pulls away from you, his touch leaving your skin. “Wh—hey!”

The blonde distances himself from you, licking his fingers clean of your essence. “Hm?” he hums, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not about to fuck a girl who’s got another man’s name on her mind.” 

You lean against the wall for support. “Holy fuck, you’re so lame.”

“Run to Jeno, then.”

Fuck. You swallow his saliva from the messy kiss, and with it, your pride. “Shit. Fine, I’m sorry. Can you fuck me now? I’ll even suck your dick.” 

Jaemin beams, and it has your pussy dripping. “Of course! Since my princess asked so nicely,” he sings, daintily taking your hands in his. Your heart stutters as he places gentle kisses along your knuckles, and then the pad of your fingers. It’s sweet, until he throws your hands up and restrains them against the wall with ice. 

“How pretty,” he muses, trailing his pointer finger down your cheek. Jaemin bunches your shirt and bra so it sits atop your chest, revealing your bare breasts. You shiver from the chill, but are warmed right away when his hands roam your torso. A gasp rips from your throat when the man teases your pants down, sliding two long fingers into your cunt. Soft and shaky moans tumble from your lips, prompting Jaemin to move his fingers. His thumb—the blood clad one—circles your clit, fingers pulsing in and out of you with ease. He’s cruel, dragging the tip of his digits against the soft flesh of your walls. 

As Jaemin fingers you, he seals your lips with his once again in a breathless kiss. Your tongue meshes with his, teeth clashing every so often. One hand returns to your neck, laying at the base in a tough hold. “Oh—” you mewl, “I’m so—”

Jaemin removes his fingers, and you fall limp, the restraints preventing you from crumpling to the floor. Your mind is hazy, but you manage to say, “You’re such a bitch.” 

“Mhm, I am, princess.” he coos, unbuckling the belt looped around his jeans. Like you, he’s in casual attire, having dressed in civilian clothing when kidnapping you in the mall. He unzips the fly, head thrown back as he frees his hard dick. You whimper, biting your lower lip at the sight. “Aren’t you so honest?” 

“Fuck,” you groan, touch-deprived. “It’s huge.”

“Can you make a condom?” he asks, slapping his length against your bare stomach. The precum smears all over your pretty skin. “I didn’t bring one, and I’d rather not get you pregnant.” 

Jaemin’s either dumb or clever for relying on you to whip out protection. But you obey, formulating a packaged condom with whatever lipids left in your body. It pops out of your arm, and Jaemin catches it with a lopsided grin. He rips the packet open with his teeth, tossing the foil aside whilst rolling the plastic over his dick. You watch, counting down the seconds until he’s inside. 

“Are you ready?” he whispers, lips grazing your ear. 

“…Yes.” 

Your answer is all he needs as he pushes into you, easily slipping in with the help of your lubrication. You release a shaky moan, eyes rolling back from pure pleasure. Jaemin hauls one of your legs over his bicep, and he catches your face in his hand. Your lustful gaze meets his, and you feel a thrill run down your spine at the look in his eyes. 

He’s hungry—sex hungry, and you’re his doll to ruin. 

Slowly, Jaemin pulls out before thrusting, the tip of his dick prodding your cervix. You cry out, hitting the ice wrapped around your wrists. Over and over and over again, Jaemin pounds into you, groaning the dirtiest words as does. Your back hits the wall every time his hips meet yours, but the pain drowns in the plethora of pleasure. 

“So tight,” he rasps, speed increasing by the second. “You feel so, so fucking good.”

“Ah, oh my—god,” you whine, chasing his lips. He grants you a kiss, and you murmur, “Harder, fuck me harder.” 

Challenges are a way to rile Jaemin up, and it seems he’s taken your plea as one. The villain grips your thighs as he lets out a low, guttural growl. He thrusts faster, at a speed you can’t comprehend. You’re seeing stars, tasting stars, in an absolute bliss no writer can describe. Jaemin stutters each time you clench around his dick, your pussy sending him into overdrive. 

“Hey, cum for me.” he mutters, biting your lower lip. 

You pant, running out of breath. “I’m close,” you chant, relishing the way his entire length fits inside of you. You beg, “Please—please don’t stop.”

“Keep asking.”

“Finish me off, Jaemin,” you moan. “I’m so close!”

Jaemin reaches for the restraints, melting them with his left hand. In one swift motion, he turns you so your cheek lays flat against the wall, ass out for him to see. He whistles, fondling the soft flesh. Your mewls don’t stop, spilling endlessly as he continues to slam into you. 

“Jaemin!” you cry, clenching around his dick. “Close—close—so close—”

“Let it out, princess.”

And you do, orgasming with his dick still inside. You whimper when he keeps thrusting, chasing his high while simultaneously overstimulating you. Your mind is hazy when he draws his dick out, the condom full of his cum. Support is gone as Jaemin backs away, and you fall to the ground, recovering from the wild fuck you just had. 

“Shit, maybe I should’ve come on your face,” he mutters, fixing his pants. Shirtless, he crouches so his eyes are parallel to yours. “You good?” 

You spit and it lands on his chin. “I’m still trapped, asshole.” 

“If you blow me—”

His words are cut short when the window explodes, the building crumbling from the impact. Both you and Jaemin glance over to the gaping hole in the wall, a confused Giselle standing atop the debris. She scans your half-naked body, then his lack of shirt, and analyzes the scene in no time. 

“Ten! They fucked!” 

A snicker flies from Jaemin’s lips as he tosses his shirt back on, ruffling his blond hair in amusement. The man glimpses Giselle’s preoccupied state and looks back at you. With a wink, he says, “I’ll contact you for that blowjob. Later, princess.” 

You simply blink as he runs off, escaping before he’s forced to engage in a (tedious) fight. When reality hits you and your mind registers his words, a disturbed scowl settles on your face. 

You can’t die yet.

And for now, Na Jaemin seems to think the same as he hints at an upcoming rendezvous.

© NABI (2023); ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter II

Silence takes over the courtyard as Commandant Panchek stands stunned on the dais in the front. “Come again, rider? How dare you interrupt-“

The boy steps to the side, revealing my lingering figure behind him and the mans face pales instantly when his eyes find my glaring ones. Fear strikes his face.

Damn, I know that my father is scary, and his reputation is ahead of him but that the higher ups still shit their pants when they see me will never not surprise me. That makes me think … how many people around here, besides the Commandant, did father informed that I'll join Basgiath this year?

“A-ah Cadet! I-it’s great to see you’ve made it safely across the Parapet.” Did he- did he just stutter?! My face surely must show amusement because he tries to hide his nervousness and fear with a shit eating grin. If one word describes this man, then it’s pathetic.

He turns to another third year I know all too well – Fen Riorsons son, Xaden. The bane of my father’s existence. He already warned me about my future wingleader and the other “marked ones”.

Xaden looks good though, even with the confused frown on his face that almost everyone up there wears since I arrived with the rider next to- oh well. Not next to me anymore. He must have went off to find his squad.

I can feel the stares on me and hear the whispers of the other cadets on me, while my glare is still fixated on the persons up the dais. My bet is, Panchek tells them who I am and that they discuss which wing I’ll join, even though General Melgren and Sorrengail made it crystal clear where I'll be going.

Suddenly Xaden tenses and throws a quick glance over his shoulder with fury in his eyes to which I only lift an eyebrow in question when our eyes meet. Then he turns back to the others and nods.

The crowd is waiting patiently for them to finish up and it’s Panchek who steps forward again.

“As I was saying, three hundred and two of you have survived the Parapet to become cadets today,” he wears that political slimy smile again. “Good job. Sixty-seven did not.”

Well, that’s unfortunate. My guess is that the weather had a big impact on those numbers, but it could have been that asshole that threw other candidates from the Parapet down like he owns the place. A shiver runs down my spine while thinking he lingers around somewhere, possibly making friends that are as crazy as him. Shits about to get real when my name is revealed, and I don`t know what I should hope for, but I fear the worst.

He talks about the Codex and what we should expect during our first year while he gestures wildly with his hands. All talk, no bite this man. I had the unfortunate luck to meet him more than just once through my father’s career and I did not enjoy his company any fucking minute. He is annoying as hell and wants General Sorrengails position first, and then my fathers. As if that would ever happen, when father’s signet is one of the most important on the continent and when he has Codagh.

“… My best advice? Don’t die.” Easier said than done.

He walks off the dais with his executive commandant in tow but not without throwing a quick glance my way. Please just go away.

A brunette woman steps forward and calls out the section and squad leaders to take their positions. While finding their place in the front, Dain Aetos eyes meet mine over the distance, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to study me, nice try buddy. He stands in the section of Second Wing; I think he is squad leader for Flame Section if I recall right.

We met each other over a year ago through Violet, since he is or was her best friend. I never liked him, too much of a “we have to strictly follow the rules” guy. But he isn't really fond of me too, thinks I am a bad influence on Violet.

One by one, cadets find their way into formation and soon Second Wing is called.

“Violet Sorrengail. Second Squad! Flame Section! Second Wing!”

Thank god's she is alive, but wait- those were not General Sorrengails orders!!? This is really bad and after finding said girl in the masses she seems to be relieved, but when I let my gaze fall on Dain again– oh? I see how it is. He must have something to do with this, because he has the audacity to smirk when his eyes find mine again. But I know it better than him, he won't be laughing for long.

Violet and her friend (?) walk over to their assigned squad and take place into formation. Third Wing is called and after that Fourth Wing. Time to shine – or not. I am one of the last cadets to be called into formation.

“Arya Melgren. Second Squad! Flame Section! Fourth Wing!” Xaden calls out.

There are more than just a few startled gasps and shocked whispers of my last name.

Only a handful of carefully selected people, mostly leadership, my teachers/trainers plus Violet and Dain, know about my existence, so I am not surprised that the majority here had no fucking clue that General Melgren has a daughter. Even the wingleader, beside Riorson, and their executives look uncomfortable.

I quickly make my way into formation while Xaden is busy studying Violet, trying to find out how the fuck he gets her into Fourth Wing and with the little tilt of his head I think he figured out what to do. He turns his back to the crowd to talk to the wingleader of Second Squad, and then the other two wingleader joins what seems to be a heated discussion. Whispers fills the Rotunda as everyone is waiting for further instructions from their leaders. They turn back and Xadens smirk tells me he got what he wanted. Thank fuck, I wouldn’t want to be in General Sorrengails wrath when she finds out that her daughter would have been somewhere else than the assigned wing.

“Dain Aetos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven’s,” Nyra orders. My squad.

“Follow me” Beinhaven says and steps forward with her squad following. Well, everyone but me, I have specific orders from above. And while my now ex-squad gives me confused stares as they're passing me, Xaden and I share a quick glance. He nods once and I know, I stay where I am, about to join Aetos squad.

Aetos and his squad find their way into my direction, the squad leader at the front.

“Aetos” I greet him with a grin on my lips, arms crossed. I`ll annoy the fuck out of him this year, this will be so much fun. “Melgren,” he replies with a frown on his face, “I believe your squad is now in Second Wing.”

“I am right where I belong to. Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad. Those were the orders” I say, my gaze hardening to underline what I am hinting at. Realization crosses his face, and he grows uncomfortable under my glare.

“Into formation, Second Squad!” he orders with a hiss when he notices cadets lingering around.

Violet and her friend find their place next to me, greeting me with a gentle smile which I gladly return. “Arya, I am glad to see you.” “Same goes for you, Silver One. I am happy to see you made it safely.”

The dark tanned girl next to her scoffs at my response, which confuses me. “Hardly” she murmurs.

My eyes find Violets blue ones with question marks all over my face. She leans over and whispers “A guy from now First Wing tried to kill me after throwing another candidate down the Parapet, Jack Barlowe is his name” in my ear. Oh shit, that must have been the asshole I saw earlier when I observed the candidates.

Eyes widening, I quickly scan her for possible injuries but to my relief, I find none.

“Quiet” Dain hisses in front of us.

Our focus shifts back up the dais where Xaden steps forward. Violet tenses as she keeps eye contact with our wingleader. I take her hand into mine to ease her nerves, which doesn`t goes unnoticed by her friend. Shit, I need to ask Vi for her name before I embarrass myself.

“Rhiannon Matthias” the girl whispers to which I send a thankful nod and a gentle smile, getting a grin back in return.

“You’re all cadets now,” Xadens voice caries out over the formations. “Take a look at your squad. These are the only people guaranteed by Codex not to kill you. But just because they can’t end your life doesn’t mean others won’t. You want a dragon? Earn one.”

Some cadets cheer like they already have a dragon, but the three of us stay quiet. There is nothing to cheer about in this hellhole.

I space out while Xaden edges the crowd but along the cheers … there is something different. It’s not just cheering, that`s-

“Oh gods, they are beautiful” Rhiannon whispers as my gaze shifts to the sky. There they are – the dragons belonging to the leadership of the Riders Quadrant.

Unbelievably gorgeous and incredibly deadly at the same time. It’s always unsettling to be around Codagh, since he is the biggest dragon on the continent and given our history, but Sgaeyl, Xadens dragon – she is undeniable fascinating and terrifying. Especially when she stares into Violets eyes like she wants to eat her.

A cadet bolds out of formation, screaming and trying to get away from here. All hell breaks loose.

[foodsies4me]

AWG but Alec has a warlock mark

Tagging @ariella9melody and @buglersholiday because you both asked for this prompt that ended up in Cat's POV because the majority of Alec's POV would have been a mixture of "don't speak to Magnus Bane", "don't speak of Magnus Bane" and "don't tell Catarina about Magnus Bane"

Catarina stares at the young teenager, barely more than a child, in front of her. She takes in the nervous way he’s clenching and unclenching his fingers, his eyes darting every so often to a smiling Magnus, who is discussing some last-minute details with Elder Musa.

The boy is clearly uncomfortable with Magnus being there and Catarina is still trying to figure out if that’s due to his parents or something else. She doesn't think it's the usual shadowhunter bigotry, though, which is a relief because she wouldn’t want him to fight to overcome self-hatred on top of everything he already has on his plate.

“So, Alec,” she says, “- are you fine with me calling you that? Or do you prefer something else?”

“Alec is fine,” he nods, eyes darting over to a slowly approaching Ragnor. “But - uh, I thought you were sending me back to the institute, so,” another look sent Magnus’ way and a sigh of relief when he leaves, “Why am I here?”

“I’ll make a portal for you,” Catarina reassures, trying not to scare the young teenager away or make him think they’re keeping him captive, “But you’re here so we can schedule a training regimen for you that wouldn’t interrupt your shadowhunter duties.”

Catarina tries to keep her voice even as she says this, trying to ignore the same impulse that had pushed several of the Elders to mention the word ‘kidnapping’ in more than a joking manner. Because it wasn’t enough for Alec to be in an immense amount of danger just by existing. No, the Lightwoods also had the fantastic idea of letting a thirteen-year-old patrol.

Alec furrows his eyebrows together, “Why?”

“To teach you how to control your magic,” Catarina says, confused by Alec’s sudden confusion. He had been the one to seek her out, after all, panic and fear were visible in every line of his body when he asked her for help because his glamour runes refused to work any longer.

Catarina had been confused at first, wariness and compassion in equal measure had put her on high alert, her magic scouring her surroundings for any other angelic signatures, which led to her only catching half of Alec’s explanation.

That confusion had faded the moment Alec had raised his shirt and twisted around to reveal white, opalescent scales that gathered into small diamond-like shapes along his spine. A warlock mark.

Catarina had been quick to contact Magnus and the other Elders despite the panicked request she keeps this between them. Something like a shadowhunter-born warlock, one that could bear runes unlike Tessa, was not something she would have been able to keep to herself. Not when that very fact put Alec into a world of danger.

Still, it had taken her nearly an hour to get Alec’s okay. The promise of blood oaths that would prevent her and the Elders from sharing the information with anyone else enough to finally convince him.

That's how they ended up in their current situation, though, Catarina is starting to realize there was some miscommunication somewhere down the line if Alec is asking her why she would help him train his magic.

“But you glamoured the…my back,” Alec says, eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “That’s all I needed.”

Catarina gentles her voice, “Untrained magic is dangerous magic,” she says, repeating the sentence her own teacher had installed into her at a young age.

Alec somehow looks even more confused.“But I don’t have magic,” he corrects, breaking his parade’s rest to scratch at a spot over his chest. “I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if I had.”

“Maybe it’s weaker because of your angelic blood,” Catarina muses, walking over to her couch and inviting him over. “But I can assure you, you do.”

Alec presses his lips together, “I don’t want to be a bother,” he says, sounding old and painfully young all at once. “You mentioned you’re a nurse and I don’t want to take up your free time to accommodate my schedule.”

There’s something infuriatingly adult in the way he speaks, a maturity that comes from being forced to grow up past your age. Then again, she thinks sardonically, being used like the Nephilim equivalent of canon fodder will do that to you.

Seriously, a thirteen-year-old patrolling. Most warlocks wouldn’t let their children or apprentices brew a harmless beginner's potion by themselves at that age.

“I’m sure we can figure out something that would work out for the both of us,” she says, conjuring a pen and a notepad that she holds out to him. “Now, what about you write down your schedule and I write mine down.”

Alec does as ordered and starts writing down his weekly schedule to her growing horror. Starting at half past five in the morning, Alec's days seem to stretch well until midnight on the nights that he isn't patrolling and that will just not stand.

"As a nurse, I'm obliged to tell you that the recommended amount of sleep for a child your age is eight to ten hours a day."

"I'm a shadowhunter, not a child," Alec says with an assertiveness that doesn't come from defensiveness, but from being told the same words over and over again. "And I think I'm finished."

Alec hands her the schedule and Catarina tries to read the different categories Alec has written down: training, trainees, paperwork, Max and Leo, archery practice, patrol, sparring with Jace, sword practice, studying, rune practice, and story time.

"Training and trainees?" she asks, wondering what the difference is between both categories.

"Training is for Jace, my parabatai, Izzy, my sister, and I. The trainees are what we call my little brother and his best friend, they just turned three and are learning their basic forms. I'm helping them."

Catarina nods to show she understands. She supposes she can't fault Alec for wanting to be a good brother and help his little brother with his training, even if the thought of a three-year-old needing to learn how to fight is horrifying to even think of.

"And Max and Leo?"

"The New York Institute isn't a kid institute, so Max and Leo don't really have anyone to play with or keep them busy."

Catarina nods again to avoid asking about the amount of 'Max' as well as 'Max and Leo' time as well as 'Trainee' time that has been penciled in. Instead, she summons a cup of hot chocolate for Alec to have something to distract herself and him with. Then, after he's taken a few sips, eyes brightening in delight - and oh, she wouldn't have taken him for a sweet tooth - she asks about the strangest entry.

"What about paperwork? Is that similar to the studying and rune practice?"

Alec shakes his head, slowly lowering his cup on the coffee table, "No, it's just - when mom and dad are away to other institutes or in Idriss, I have to do the paperwork," he says with a careless shrug.

Catarina looks down at the schedule, looks back at the young teenager on her couch, and back at the schedule. Then, she bites down the question that is burning on her tongue.

After all, the answer is staring at her in the shape of a frankly ridiculous schedule that Alec wrote down without a second thought.

This means the story time entry, the entry that takes place twice a day at the same time every single day, right around what would be the usual bedtime for a three-year-old, is exactly what the word entails.

Catarina didn't think her personal opinion on Maryse and Robert Lightwood could sink any lower.

"Your studies are they with a teacher?" She asks, looking at the few spots those take. She wouldn't be able to ask him to do the paperwork he shouldn't be doing over at her apartment, but maybe she can convince him to take his studying sessions here.

"Not anymore," Alec says, "I just get the study material and the homework I need to finish. Why?"

"Well, then I suggest we broaden your studies during those hours," she says, circling the study hours on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday the days she usually has off. "That okay with you?"

Alec is still looking at her with a confused expression as if unsure of what to expect from her. "If that's easiest for you," he says, hand coming to scratch that spot on his chest again, "But I can adapt. I just have to be there for Max when he wakes up and when he goes to sleep, but the rest I can switch around."

Catarina had an inkling he would say something like this.

"Don't worry, this would work out the best for both of us," she reassures, hiding the anger behind a kind smile and another cup of hot chocolate. Then, she gives Alec his promised portal with a promise to see him on Thursday and dials a number she knows as well as her own.

Magnus picks up on the first ring. "Chocolate or alcohol?"

"Both. As well as a plan on how to murder the Lightwoods if you'd please."

"That bad?"

Catarina thinks of patrolling at thirteen years old, thinks of the hellish schedule and the fact that Alec is apparently single-handedly raising his little brother, is semi-raising his two other siblings as well, and all that on top of not quite running the institute in his parents' absence. .

"Worse."

[anteroom-of-death]

After the Party

Synopsis: Malcolm and his wife are attending some book event. For now.

A/n: I am a writer. Occasionally. I'm sorry for being shite with the uploads. Love you all. Warnings for mild cum eating and Ollie's general existence. Hahaha.

You fanned yourself discreetly. The heaters were at full-blast inside the cramped room. You could feel the lining of the skirt you wore starting to cling to you. It was starting to squall outside. You had half a mind to go outside and stand in it.

It would be a relief.

Your husband was off, still clutching a handful of files necessary for his job. Dazzling and scaring the masses of government people from multiple parties. And the press. Followed by his dark shadow, Jamie. Whom you quite liked, but at the moment was the bane of your existence since he tried to coup the faith of your husband out of fear of change.

You didn’t understand why you had to come to this party. It was some nutter’s book launch.

A few spouses had also come but they were put off by you for the crime of loving the scariest man in the room. His reputation preceded him too much. Also, your “noticeable” age difference made people fear the worst sometimes.

You would have thought other scandals would have turned their heads by now!

The Reeder boy approached you. He was possibly hell-bent on ruining every time you saw him.

You clutched your glass of Coke tighter.

“Did your father let you out of the house finally?” Reeder mocked, pointing to Malcolm. The irony was he was younger than you.

You blamed jealousy. He obviously got off on whatever Judas or Brutus fantasies he clearly had coming to fruition slowly. He probably loved masturbating to the image of him getting fucked by your husband on top of a print-out of party manifesto or whatever.

You inhaled and breathed out slowly, “Papa let’s me out twice a year for good behavior!” You mocked his slick, posh accent, as you discreetly tried fixing the strap of your bra under the turtleneck you wore.

Malcolm eventually saw you blanching and scowling as Reeder tried to target you more.

“Ah, noticed your glass was getting’ low, pet. Take mine…” He addressed you and swapped glasses with you. Quickly his tone changed, “You! Fuck nut, get your girl a fresh drink. Be useful! For fuck’s sake!” He said as he shoved the boy away from you. Hopefully towards the Tory girl he was apparently trying to honeypot and failing to do so…

You sipped the orange juice quietly and squeaked out a thank you.

“He likes you.” Malcolm hypothesized as he whipped out his phone and checked it. He sent a quick text and shoved it. You noticed Jamie pat his pocket and check it. He looked over at the pair of you.

He slung an arm around you and kissed your forehead.

“I need to use the restroom.” You confessed. “Can you walk me? I don’t want to deal with anyone looking at me like they did last time I got lost.” You stone-faced ground your jaw.

It was fairly easy to get lost in this place.

“Sure.” He shook his head, walking over to Jamie and whispering something in his ear before rejoining you and opening the door for you.

The hallway was empty. Thank goodness.

You exhaled as if you had been holding your breath for the entire time you’d been at the party.

He looked good. Too good. It was always such a sin for him to look like this on this lighting and in the stupid suits his job demanded him to wear.

You left him in the hall and went to the restroom. When you left the stall, he was in there with you.

“This is the ladies…” You rolled your eyes.

“Did you have to wear that?” He gestured to your simple turtleneck and faux leather skirt get-up. Not particularly sexy, the skirt was even floor length!

“I’ve been hard since you fucking got here.” He approached you, as if to illustrate the point. He fingers the fabric of your belt holding the outfit together. “I want to fuck you here.” He pressed you against the sink’s countertop.

He was right, he was hard. It was pressing against both of your abdomens.

His hand found it’s way to the hollow of your throat as he pressed you into a position where you had no choice but to sit on the edge of the counter now. He kissed your cheek and traced his tongue down the line of your jaw.

“What if someone catches us?” You reasoned, despite every fiber of your body wailing to let him take you then and there.

“Oh, let them. They’ll never speak again!” He laughed. His work persona leaking out. The soft sweet house-husband you knew was dead in these lands. Malcolm was dead, long live Tucker.

This is who he was outside the bubble of your home and what little personal lives you both had. Just a small facet of who he was.

You were quickly falling under his spell and were seeing how quickly you could at least slide your tights down and at least slide your panties to the side for this when you had the realization that you might, personally, be embarrassed if someone, especially one of those judgmental bitches that also married into this life walked in.

You pushed him off as he was just getting his cock out.

“Save it ‘til we get home? Please.” You batted your lashes. “I don’t want caught.” You reasoned.

He pulled back and sighed, “Fine. You’re in for it when we get home!” He smeared his face with his hands as if to manually compose himself into something recognizable. He somehow had gotten his belt undone in the brief time that this attack on your face had taken place.

You twisted your tongue and rolled your eyes as you fixed it.

Somehow you felt like this was just the beginning of a very long night. Longer than it already was.

Your social battery was already dead and gone, so this provided you an opportunity to go home anyways.

You washed your hands and exited, him following you like a bat out of hell. Back into that room…

He went back to talking. Seemed like he was making a graceful and acceptable exit from it.

He joined you as he gave you your coat.

The Reeder boy approached, “Awe, is it past curfew?” He shot you a look that seemed both in mocking and envy.

You balled up your fist and went to strike the annoying boy. A strong, familiar hand caught your wrist as you could see Reeder begin to flinch. You could feel your face twist from scowling and rage-filled to annoyed and put out.

“No, not now.” Malcolm ordered you.

“I’ll fucking deal with you on fucking Monday, walking syphilis.” He shoved Ollie into the corner a tad. “Don’t ever hit my wife again.” He spun the event around.

Oliver Reeder, hitting Malcolm Tucker’s wife would keep this gossip mills busy for a while.

You knew that much about your husband’s job. It was simple enough.

As you made your way through the halls and towards the exit, Jamie appeared, as if his leash was yanked by Malcolm’s invisible hand.

“Tell people that Ollie tried to strike (y/n).” Malcolm barked order at him. “He may have also hit on her and groped her. Your choice.”

"Aye, that's me, boss. Nae fuckin' worries. I'll make sure they all know what a sick wee fucker he is... Ta!” He slugged his beer, grasped so oddly in one hand and started whipping put his phone and texting.

You ripped off and chewed your right index fingernail.

The cold air felt wonderful on your sweating form. Too bad that it was shortly interrupted by the called car and driver pulling up. You could have stood there with the flakes hitting your face from that moment until the end of eternity…

Soon enough, you were home.

The minute the key unlocked the deadbolt, he pounced on the back of your neck, rough kisses with the faintest hint of stubble grazing down the back of exposed neck as teeth made purchase with the hollow of nape of your neck.

“You’re such a fucking tease.” He purred as he shoved you through your front door and shoved you into the entrance and parting your legs with his. “Making me wait while my balls are aching. Took me all not to pin you the fuck down and fuck you in the middle of that room.”

He groped your breast roughly through both turtleneck and bra.

So this is what everyone else got? This sharp, crude and dangerous man? You’d never been given of an inch of roughness by the man. He’d be soft and gentle from the first moment your eyes had met.

You flushed deeply and felt your clit throb and a familiar ache wracked through your core. You moaned and felt your body relax against the wall as he unbuckled his pants and bunched up your skirt, tearing aside your tights and underwear as he slid you down the wall. He steadied the two of you with one of his hands on both of yours. He shoved your butt up with his free hand and slid his cock in your increasingly-wet cunt.

“Christ, you feel so fuckin’ great. You’re so tight. Aren’t you? My tight little missus.” He went on as he gripped your hip with one hand and started pounding you frantically.

The words did something to you.

You felt your spine sink as you went rigid elsewhere.

“No, this won’t do.” You heard him mutter after what felt like several minutes. He went over to the sofa, dragging you along by your wrist, held only in his fingers. He clumsily sat as he slung you over his lap.

“Sit on my lap. Be a good girl.” He pulled your hips over and you onto his cock.

He began to bounce you as he pet your hair, his jaw locked as he pushed himself further into you with every bounce. You felt yourself start to grind down with every thrust.

“Such a fucking slut for me. Show me how you want my cock, angel.” His praise had you swooning over backwards as you felt your head roll back and moan.

He kept bucking his hips forward and up as you moaned more. You felt a guiding hand keep you on his cock and your walls get tighter.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned as he shot his load into your aching, well-towards-an-orgasm pussy.

You complained, “No! Don’t pull out!” As he slipped himself out of you and let out a huffy little puff of air.

“Of course. You’re such a good girl for me.” His eyes had a strange glint in them. Debauched. That was the only way you could describe it. He was definitely debauched.

He pulled you down to the ground and tilted a pillow from the couch down and propped your hips up on it.

One of those deft, long fingers reached and stroked your lips and went down, wiping up the leaking cum from your hole, digging in slightly.

He brought the finger to your lips and parted them, cleaning it off with the wetness of your mouth.

He went down and dug out a tad more and repeated the process…

“Now, look at what you’ve done, pet.” He cooed. “Look what a mess you’ve made!” Tucker fading and Malcolm taking his place.

He kissed your lips with a feathery smile.

You would have passed out right then and there…

He slid his way to between your legs, where your cunt was fully on display. You couldn’t see but you could feel him breathing down your thighs as he licked and sucked on your raw, throbbing clit.

He steadied himself by pressing and pulling your thighs apart more.

You felt his teeth bite you roughly. Right at the top of your inner thigh, right where you were most sensitive and your flesh had rolled down into and you bucked your hips further. His face shoved directly into you. The slight stubble striking across the new marks as you felt his nose swipe into your hollows.

You groaned as you felt him commit to going down on you. Seemed like he was intent on cleaning up your mess. You failed upwards as you tried to find his hair to play with as he continued to suck and bite and nibble you to a pathetic moan.

“Please, please.” You felt yourself babble out.

You felt girlish and stupefied.

He stroked your folds and tutted. You groaned a tad more, slipping further from reality.

“If you insist, little one.” You could feel his smile from your vantage-less point.

He continued on until you came.

“Don’t wear that outfit again. I cannae focus. I may have leaked more than pre-cum.” He joked.

You nodded from your dumbfounded spot on the floor he had you in.

You still felt a little full of what remained of his load and like you has fully lost the plot here…

He joined you on the floor, yanking more pillows down and propping up both of your heads. He curled you into his chest and kissed your forehead. Both of you still partially still dressed in your clothes of your roles outside of this safe bubble you had; in that moment you couldn’t feel further from Mrs. Tucker. Just his (y/n).

His phone started buzzing off the hook. You swore you saw him switch it off, for the first time ever.

He pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa.

The snow squall outside raged on.

And you felt very safe and warm.

[aflame4goinghome]

Antithesis

j.t.k x reader & j.m.k. x reader

part II

word count: 7.5k

warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!! fluff, swearing, drinking, a little bit of name calling, cheating *kind of* SMUT: flirting, kissing, sexually implicit language, touching, dirty talk, slight voyeurism, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving & m. receiving), unprotected sex, biting, degradation kink if you squint, cum play (just a little bit, ok?)

a/n: aaaand i’m back! sorry that i’ve been gone so long… getting ready to graduate college is no joke! but i worked really hard on this one, so i hope you all enjoy :)

listen to the official playlist on Spotify here

read part one here

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It’s been a little over a week since your encounter with Jake, and it has yet to desert the back of your mind. It plagues you, like some sort of nightmare that you can’t seem to wake up from. Luckily for you, you haven’t had to see him too much since his party, since you and Josh had spent the Christmas holiday apart. The two of you were still a relatively new couple, if you could even call it that, and weren’t remotely serious enough to meet each other’s parents, at least in your opinion. He didn’t seem to mind too much, however, and he and his brothers went back to Michigan for the holiday. 

Despite the much-needed distance, your dilemma with Jake was still all you could think about. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could feel was Jake’s cold, calloused hands on your skin, giving you a feeling of euphoria that you had yet to experience before. And even if you wanted to forget about it (which you didn’t), it seems as though he won’t let you. Much to your surprise, you received a call from an unknown number late Christmas Eve after you’ve already tucked yourself into bed in your childhood bedroom at your parents’ house.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

You swallow deeply. “Jake…?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he replies, “The one and only.” His voice is deep and husky, slurring his words together slightly. You can tell that he’s had plenty to drink.

You roll your eyes and ask, “How did you get my number?” 

“I have my ways… A gentleman never reveals his secrets.” He utters, with confidence dripping off his words like honey. You scoff at him but say nothing. He speaks again, a bit more hushed than before.

“You been thinkin’ about me, baby? I know I’ve been thinkin’ about you.” The hoarseness of his voice on the other line is enough to make your knees buckle, but you’d never let him know that. 

“Definitely not,” you say, lying through your teeth. “You’re the last thing that would ever be on my mind, actually.” You hear him chuckle to himself.

“Yeah? Thinkin’ about my brother, then?” he jests, seeing right through you.

“And what if I am?” you reply, refusing to back down.

“He can’t handle you, sunshine. He doesn’t have it in him,” he says, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

“And you think you can? Is that it?” you scoff, starting to grow tired of his games.

“Why don’t you tell me? I seemed to handle you quite well the last time we saw each other, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he says, his voice in almost a low whisper now. You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t affect you. You were under his spell, and he knew it.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you reply, a smile apparent in your voice, then hang up the phone. You stare at his phone number for a moment before creating a new contact, naming it “Bane Of My Existence,” then close your phone, set it on your bedside table, and go to sleep.

That was a week ago, and you’ve been able to avoid your dilemma since then. But now, with New Year's Eve tonight, they’ve all returned for a “night of revelry,” as Josh called it. As excited as you are to spend New Year’s Eve with Josh, you’re fearful of what’s to come if you find yourself alone with Jake again. You hope that it won’t get to that point, and you’re going to do your best to avoid it at all costs.

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Luckily, Josh was hosting the party this time, which made you feel slightly less nervous. He got home from his trip yesterday morning, so he took the two of you out on a date last night and you stayed over to help him prepare for the party. Even though you didn’t need to be there that early to set up, you enjoyed the excuse to spend some extra time alone with him. You hope that the more time you spend with Josh, the easier it will be to forget about your previous intoxicated lapse of judgment with his twin.

You wake up, rolling over in bed to face him, He’s still asleep, laying on his back with his hands on his chest, snoring ever-so-slightly. You know that the snoring is thanks to his very deviated septum, which he refuses to get surgery for. Josh told you that Jake had gotten his fixed last year and it got rid of his snoring completely. He won’t get it done, though- he’s convinced that it would “ruin his angelic singing voice.” You rolled your eyes at him that day, but it was something that you admired about him: his dedication to his art. 

Despite the band being Jake’s idea at the start, singing has slowly become Josh’s entire life, that much has been obvious to you. He puts his entire heart and soul into it, sometimes at the expense of his health and well-being. He tends to push himself too far, but in the past year, it’s clear that he’s learning from his mistakes. This new tour meant new beginnings and better habits for him, and you couldn’t be prouder.

You reach your hand over to him gently, pushing some of his curls back and out of his face. Josh’s eyes begin to flutter open and land on you as a smile creeps across his face.

“I could get used to this,” he mutters with a smirk, his voice sounding groggy after just waking up.

“Don’t get too comfortable now,” you joke, running your fingers through his hair as you gaze at him with a smile. 

“If you’re not careful, I just might,” he says, his smile widening as he begins to sit up. Your cheeks turn pink at his words and you try to look down to avoid any teasing. 

“So…” you say with a smile, “You wanna go get some coffee?”

“You read my mind, darling,” he says, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on your lips and grins. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

You roll your eyes and turn around to get out of bed, heading toward the bathroom to get ready for the day. But first, you turn around and quip back, “Because I always like to go get coffee? No other reasons?”

“Oh, I could list plenty of other reasons, lover…” he answers, walking toward you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “Want me to show you?”

You swear your heart stopped right then and there. His eyes had darkened as he looked down at you with a smirk, and you could already feel his morning wood against your abdomen. No, no- you had to stay focused (for now). Your cheeks flush and you clear your throat, trying not to appear too flustered. “Coffee first,” you say, smiling softly as you meet his eyes before grabbing your overnight back from the floor and heading into the bathroom.

You quickly shut the door behind you and rest your back against it, taking in a deep breath. You were way in over your head with the Kiszkas, and you knew it. You take a look in the mirror, seeing how disheveled you looked from your night’s sleep. You’re not sure how Josh could still be attracted to you, even when you looked like such a mess, but you know the answer to that question was one that you’re not quite ready for yet.

You quickly brush your teeth and braid your hair loosely down your back, leaving out a few strands around your face. You take off Josh’s old Greta Van Fleet t-shirt that he gave you to sleep in last night and throw on your oversized college sweatshirt and a pair of light-colored jeans. When you go to open the bathroom door, Josh is sitting on the bed, waiting for you. He had put on his favorite Sherpa jacket and some khaki pants. He must have gone to get ready in the spare bathroom downstairs since his hair looked neat and his face was freshly washed. He turns his head as he hears the door open, smiling as he catches sight of you.

“There she is,” he says, standing up and walking over to you. You smile at him, holding his shirt in your hands.

“I should probably give this back…” you mutter, holding it out for him to take. Instead, he shakes his head and gently pushes your hand downward.

“Nuh-uh. That’s yours now,” he says with a proud smile. “It doesn’t fit me anymore. Besides, you look much better in it anyway.” You blush, meeting his gaze. “Okay.”

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Josh heads down the stairs and you follow closely after him, sliding on your sneakers before heading out the door toward his car. He unlocks the car with his keys and opens the door for you before rounding the car and getting into the driver’s seat. He turns the car on and the radio starts blaring, causing Josh to quickly hit the Bluetooth button on the screen.

“You wanna put something on?” he asks. You’ve been in his car plenty of times by now, but you’d never really had the opportunity to control the music before, as he usually would have something on before you got in the car. The corners of your lips turn into a small smile as you nod, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth.

You decide to put on your 60s and 70s playlist, knowing that he’d probably enjoy anything that might come on from there. As the opening notes of a familiar song start to play as he pulls out of the driveway, you can already tell that your intuition was right.

You’re just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off of you

You’d be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much 

At long last love has arrived

And I thank God I’m alive

You’re just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off of you

A smirk appears on his lips as he looks over at you, clearly happy with your song choice. He nods his head along with a smile as he drives to your favorite coffee shop in downtown Nashville. As the next verse starts, though, he begins to sing along.

Pardon the way that I stare

There’s nothing to compare

The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak

He turns his head to meet your gaze, winking at you before turning back to the road.

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know that it’s real

You’re just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off of you

You giggle at his attempt at a serenade as the chorus gears up, deciding to join in with him. He places his right hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as he smiles brightly, sneaking glances every chance he gets.

I love you, baby

And if it’s quite alright

I need you, baby

To warm a lonely night

I love you, baby

Trust me when I say

You can’t help but look at him with the biggest smile on your face. You knew then and there that if anyone knew you the best, it would be Josh. Despite whatever your romantic relationship was, this man is your best friend. He gets you more than anyone else does. You place your hand on his, which is still planted on your thigh. 

Oh, pretty baby

Don’t bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby

Let me love you

You finally arrive at the coffee shop and pull into a parking space at the front. Josh puts the car in park and turns to notice that you’re already looking at him, smiling from ear to ear.

“What?” he asks, smiling at you.

“Nothing- just you,” you answer.

“You growing soft on me, darlin’?” he jokes, reaching over to brush some of your stray hairs behind your ear.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” you say, leaning into his hand as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. He smiles wide and brings your face to his, kissing you. You smile against his lips as he pulls you closer to him, brushing your tongue against his bottom lip as if to ask permission for its entry. He opens his mouth slightly, allowing your tongue to slip past his lips and meet his own, causing him to let out a low groan. Before you get the chance to pull him closer to you, he ends the kiss, keeping his face mere inches away from yours.

“If we keep going like that, then we’re not gonna make it inside that coffee shop, baby,” he whispers, stroking your cheek before turning to open his door, then going around the front of the car and opening yours. You try to get rid of the flush of your cheeks as you exit the car and enter the cafe, taking Josh’s hand in yours.

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You both got your coffee and then went to run some errands to get ready for this party. You stopped at the party store for some decorations, the grocery store for snacks and ingredients for appetizers, and the liquor store to get a few bottles of champagne and stock up on tequila. Before you know it, it’s nearly 5 p.m. and it’s time to start getting ready. Josh knew that it would take you a while, so he opted to shower first and then went downstairs to start cooking the famous dish that he makes for every party- jalapeño poppers with a secret dipping sauce that he won’t share with anyone, not even with you. Cooking skills are well beyond your expertise, so you just let him enjoy it on his own.

You finish up in the shower and wrap one of Josh’s soft, white towels around your body, tucking it in on the top corner. You tap your watch to check the time, which you left sitting on the counter, which reads 6:12 p.m. The guests are supposed to be arriving around 8, so you luckily have enough time for now, but Josh did warn you that his brothers will likely arrive early. You go to plug in your hair dryer, then begin drying your hair. Your mom had just gifted you one of those fancy hair dryers for Christmas that curls your hair as you dry it, and you finally have an excuse to test it out. 

After a while of drying, thanks to the thickness and length of your hair, you finally achieve the style you were hoping for, a blowout with a beautiful curl to it. You spray in a bit of hairspray, then start on your makeup. You lay on your base makeup and then add in some light silver eyeshadow, just enough to make your eyes sparkle. You apply eyeliner, just enough to line your eyes tightly, then put on a layer of mascara. You put on dark red lipstick then pick up your watch from the counter: 6:58 p.m. Still plenty of time to spare. You head out of the bathroom to get dressed. 

You walk to Josh’s closet to take your dress off its hanger. It was a tight silver sequined dress, hitting around the middle of your thighs. It has thin straps and a square neckline, which didn’t show too much cleavage but definitely didn’t leave that much to the imagination. You put it on, then slip on your black heels and go downstairs to find Josh.

You turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs and walk toward the kitchen. You see Josh in front of the oven, putting his jalapeño popper in to bake. He’s wearing a white sweater with a pair of gray dress pants and black loafers. As he hears the cadence of your heels, he turns around and leans his side against the counter, not taking his eyes off of you for a second as he watches you approach him. A smile spreads across his face as you get closer, then he reaches his arms out and places his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. 

“Oh, you look delicious, baby…” he says, capturing your lips in his. It’s quick and almost impatient- you can tell that you picked the right dress. With his hands still on your waist, he flips you both around so that your lower back rests against the kitchen counter. His hands slide down to grip your ass and he lets out a low groan as he pulls you closer to him. 

“I should cancel this party right now, keep you all to myself,” he mumbles as his lips start to pepper kisses along our jawline and down your neck. “It’s not too late, you know, I’ll call everyone right now…” You lean your head back as he continues his assault on your neck, a small whimper leaving your mouth as you feel him suck one of the sensitive spots on your skin. But unfortunately for you, amidst your heated interaction with Josh, neither of you heard the front door swing open.

“It seems like I might be interrupting something,” you hear a deep voice say from behind Josh. You sigh as Josh frantically lets go of you and turns around to see none other than his twin brother staring back at him with a smirk spread across his face.

You feel your breath catch in your chest as you see Jake standing at the kitchen's threshold. His eyes are hidden underneath his usual dark sunglasses, but you know they’re locked on you- you can feel it. You take a moment to watch him as Josh walks over to greet him. He’s wearing a pair of black dress pants paired with his usual black Chelsea boots. On top, he’s opted for a dark red button-up, with a few buttons undone at the top as always, and the sleeves are rolled up just below his elbows. 

You hear Sam and Danny walk in through the front door, and Josh goes to greet them in the foyer. It sounds like they ask him to help carry in snacks and drinks from the car. They all exit the house, leaving just you and Jake in the kitchen. You watch as he takes his sunglasses off and slips them into the small pocket in his shirt, his eyes still locked with yours. Suddenly, as he goes to approach you, they seem to wander downward, taking in every inch of you before he’s only less than a foot away and meets your gaze once again.

“At this point, I have no choice but to think that you must be doing this on purpose,” he says, leaning his arm onto the counter next to you, allowing his left hand to ghost slightly over your arm. 

Your eyes go from where his hand nearly connects with your skin, then up to meet his eyes. “Doing what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what… You wear that little number just for me, sweetheart?” he says, his voice sounding graveling and hoarse. You swallow harshly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, your eyes falling to his lips before quickly snapping yourself out of it.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Knowing exactly how to get my attention…” he whispers, leaning in slightly so that his mouth is mere centimeters away from your ear. “Do you like that, baby? Knowing that I’m looking at you, and only you?”

You feel your cheeks start to heat up at his words. You take a deep breath and mutter out a quiet “Yes.” He smiles a crooked smile, and you can still feel his breath on the shell of your ear.

“That’s what I thought. Craving attention, like the filthy whore you are.” He chuckles under his breath when he hears the quiet whimper that comes out of you at his degrading words, and then brushes your hair back slightly to place a soft kiss behind your ear. “You don’t have to try so hard to get my attention, sunshine… all you had to do was ask.”

With that, he backs away from you, turning around and then heading into the dining room to make himself a drink, leaving you alone in the kitchen. Your chest is heaving slightly from the adrenaline, your heart is beating ten times fast, and you can feel your arousal start to drip down your thigh. You opted out of wearing any underwear this evening, which you now know was a huge mistake. 

Finally, Josh, Sam, and Danny reemerge from outside, carrying cases of beer and grocery bags. You greet them and smile shyly at Josh as he sets the bags down and walks over to you, wrapping one around your waist. As you catch Jake’s eyes in the mirror above the bar cart and notice the mischievous look that starts to creep over his face, you know that you’re about to be in for a long night.

You wait for Jake to desert the bar cart and find a seat at the kitchen island before walking over to make yourself a very strong drink, which you know you’re going to need. You pour yourself what seems to be about two shots of tequila before adding some soda water. The guests have begun to arrive now, trickling in slowly, and as social as you typically are, you didn’t really feel like you were in the mood for the same old small talk. “How’s the tour?” “What’s in store next for the band?” It’s always the same questions, and as much as Josh loves to answer them and talk about his art, you didn’t have it in you to stand there quietly and nod along. And then, as though someone had read your mind, a soft voice calling your name broke you from your trance.

“Y/N, hey,” you turn your head to see Sam standing in front of you. You offer him a soft smile, silently thanking him for saving you from your thoughts. 

“Hey, Sam,” you answer, straightening your back, trying not to seem as absent as you so clearly were. You watch as he walks up next to you, taking the bottle opener from the bar cart and popping off the bottlecap from his beer, then setting it back down. 

“D’you wanna go hang out in the living room with me? You look a bit bored, and Daniel’s already ditched me for some chick,” he chuckles to himself, then takes a swig of his beer before continuing. “We could put a record on, I’ll even let you choose.” You giggle a bit and look up at him for a moment. “Sure.”

The two of you walk through the dining room into the living room, where a few people have already started to congregate. You see Jake in the corner of the room speaking to who you know to be one of their producers, his back leaning against the wall with his whiskey glass in his hand. You immediately shake it off and opt to ignore him.

Sam sits down on one of the loveseats, leaning back against the cushion. You walk over to Josh’s record player and sift through his record collection, trying to find the perfect one for the occasion. After searching for a moment, a smile grows on your face as you pull out Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. You take the vinyl out of its protective sleeve and place it gingerly on the turntable, then lift the arm and place the needle delicately on the edge of the record.

 As Second Hand News begins to play, you walk back toward the loveseat and sit down next to Sam. He’s wearing a toothy grin, and says “Good choice, Y/N,” then takes another sip of his beer. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, then look back up at his face and smile at him. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, and he was certainly sweet- though, not your type. You subtly turn around to see if Jake is watching, and you’re immediately met with his eyes piercing through you. This will definitely do the trick.

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After a few hours of sitting and chatting with Sam, and several more tequila sodas, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. Josh had popped in every once and a while to check in on you, sometimes choosing a record to put on, then going back to whoever he was talking to. He knew you didn’t need him to hover over you, you could handle socializing without him. Besides, he had never asked you to be his girlfriend, so who would he introduce you as to his colleagues anyway? It was less complicated to just keep to yourself. 

Or, keep to Sam, if you’re being specific. The two of you talked for hours, just about traveling and the outdoors and his garden. You knew Jake was watching, and every once and a while, you’d touch Sam’s arm while you spoke just to get Jake riled up, and you knew it was working. 

You head upstairs to use the bathroom and decide to use Josh’s master bathroom instead of the main one, to check on your makeup and have a few moments to yourself. You finally break the seal, and as you stand up from the toilet, you feel your head rush a bit- a sure sign that you’ve clearly had enough to drink. You fix your makeup, reapply your lipstick, and then run your hands through your hair a bit to get out any kinks. 

You pull your phone out of your purse and see the time: 10:27 p.m. Still a decent amount of time until midnight. As you slip your phone back into your purse, you hear the outer door to the bedroom open and shut. You open the bathroom door and step out to find Josh approaching you.

“Hey, baby,” he says, a slight slur in his voice giving you the impression that he's had a few to drink himself. “I was wondering where you went off to… was worried about you.” He slips his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Oh, I’m alright, don’t worry,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Just needed to powder my nose.” You let out a little giggle at the phrase, which brings a big smile to his face.

“Well, you look beautiful, darling,” he says, kissing your cheek again, then trailing his lips down, peppering soft kisses along your jaw. “Been thinking about you all night, you know.”

You smirk as you lean your head back slightly to give him more access to your neck. “You have?” you jest, bringing one of your hands down to grip his shoulder for stability as he starts to suck lightly on the skin of your neck.

“Of course I have… Haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you in this dress, baby… We didn’t get to finish what we started earlier, did we?” he mumbles against your skin as he guides you toward his bed. The warmth of his breath against your neck is enough to get you aroused, especially combined with all the alcohol in your system, and you already feel the wetness pooling between your thighs. 

You grab the collar of his sweater and pull him into you as your back falls onto the bed, capturing his lips in yours. His hands grip your ass firmly before his right hands slides between your legs. When he finally notices your lack of underwear, he lets out a low groan and leans back down to kiss you again.

“Fuck, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, his voice dripping in lust, “You do this for me?” He runs his fingers through your wetness as he attacks your neck again, causing you to let out a small moan as you nod “yes” and reach your hands down to start undoing his belt. You can already feel that he’s ridiculously hard, and your intoxicated state is causing you to be a bit more impatient than usual.

“I need you, Josh. Need you so bad,” you whine, which makes him groan loudly against your neck. You use your hands to pull him onto the bed more before pushing him to the other side, with him lying on his back. You quickly hike your dress up over your hips before crawling back onto the bed agilely now with the increased freedom from your tight dress. After gently tapping the side of Josh’s thigh, he get the message and lifts his hips up off the bed, allowing you to shimmy his pants and boxers down just enough so they sit resting at his mid-thigh.

You position yourself at the bottom of the bed, taking Josh’s thick, hardened cock in your hands, pumping it a few times before taking him slowly into your mouth. He lets out a deep, guttural groan as he watches you take him completely down your throat. “God, you look so fuckin’ sexy like that,” he utters, bringing his hand down to brush your hair out of your face and then holding it all in his fist as you bob your head up and down. He throws his head back as you ease him all the way to the back of your throat, but then quickly pulls you off of him. “If you keep going, I’m not gonna last, baby. Need to feel you,” he says, pulling you up to straddle him.

You place your right hand on the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss as your other hand works to align yourself with him, letting the straps of your dress sling down your arms. Finally, you slowly sink down on him, letting out a moan that’s much louder than you intended. You kiss him passionately, slipping your tongue past his lips and joining his as you start to lift your hips slowly, then bring them back down. 

“Fuck, that’s it, darling’. Just like that,” he moans, gripping your hip tightly with his left hand as the other finds your breast now pouring out of your dress. He squeezes it softly, then rolls your nipple between his fingers, causing you to let out another moan. His lips find your neck and travel downward, sucking harsh bites into your collarbone. You pick up the pace on top of him, throwing your head back as the feeling of his lips on your neck and his cock throbbing inside of you begin to throw you completely out of orbit.

Josh starts to thrust upwards into you, meeting you halfway as you become a blubbering mess for him. “Oh, fuck Josh, right there,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the euphoric feeling takes over. He takes that moment to flip the both of you over, then swiftly tucking his dick back into you and takings your lips in his. You whine loudly, which is barely being muffled inside the walls of his mouth, but you don’t care.

You could tell by his uncontrolled thrusts that he was getting close, and you knew that with both of you having had as much to drink as you had, this wasn’t going to last long. He groans loudly into your mouth one final time before, pulling out of you and straddling your torso quickly, holding himself up with one hand on his headboard behind you. Hunched over you, you place kisses along his abdomen as he throws his head back with a groan and finishes on your chest. 

He brings his head down to rest on top of yours, leaving a soft kiss on top of your head before getting up. As he stands up next to the bed, he looks down at you, admiring the sight of you lying on his bed, with your dress now only left covering your mid section. “My god, you are exquisite… could put this view in a fucking museum,” he mutters, leaning over you and grasping one of your breasts in his hand, spreading his cum across them. He groans as his hands caress you, bringing his lips down to kiss you. Finally, he pulls his pants up slightly, retreating to the bathroom to get a wet hand towel to clean you off before the both of you redress for the rest of the party.

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JAKE’S POV

You excuse yourself to go get another drink, then walk over to the dining room. As you pour yourself another glass of whiskey, you wonder how many you’d reached- was it four? Maybe five? It doesn’t matter. You take a long sip before returning to the living room, then notice that she’s gone. You swear she was just here. Sam was still there on the couch, thank God. You knew that she was hanging all over him to get under your skin, and it makes your blood boil to admit that she was succeeding. 

You set your glass down on a side table and then venture upstairs in hopes of finding her alone. She was no match for your charm, no matter how hard she fought you on it. But as you climb the stairs and take a look around, you can’t help but notice noises coming from Josh’s bedroom. 

Out of curiosity, you slowly creep closer to the door, and the sound that you find coming from the room makes your heart nearly stop beating. It’s her, you know it’s her- but she’s not alone. 

“Oh, fuck Josh, right there,” you hear her exclaim, sending shivers down your spine. Despite the sounds being for your brother, all you can think about is how you can get her to make those noises for you. You’d never admit it out loud, but you’d do anything to feel her underneath you again, to be the one coaxing those moans out of her. 

Just the idea of it sends half the blood from your brain straight down to your dick, you can’t control it. You feel yourself strain against the material of your pants as you listen to her whine on the other side of the door. You slowly palm your erection through your pants, just to find some relief and get it under control, but you realize that it’s much more serious than you thought. 

With that, you pull yourself away, heading into the bathroom in the hallway at the top of the stairs. You quickly shut the door and lock it behind you. As you approach the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the man staring back at you. Who are you, to let some girl get the best of you like this? Not only that, but the aspect of her being off-limits makes it even more appealing. Whatever, you’re nothing if not a masochist. You’ve found yourself in trickier situations than this in your lifetime.

You reach down and try to ease your erection away again as you hear the distant sound of a door shutting. Curiosity takes control, and you unlock the door and stick your head out, seeing your brother threading his belt back together, bouncing down the stairs, and turning the corner toward the kitchen. You shut off the light and crack the door open now, leaning against the wall and waiting for her to inevitably come out.

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YOUR POV

Thanks to Josh’s help, you have to fix your makeup again, so he heads downstairs first without you while you go back into his bathroom to freshen up. As you finish up, you check your phone one last time: 11:29 p.m. Better get going, you thought.

You open the door to Josh’s room and step out into the hallway, shutting it behind you. You walk toward the steps, but before you’re able to start your descent, you feel two strong, calloused hands pull you back into the hallway bathroom. The figure shuts the door, leaning your back against it as they flick the light on and you’re suddenly face to face with a very inebriated Jake Kiszka.

“Was curious about where you ran off to… now I know. Dirty girl,” he mutters, reaching down to sweep a piece of your hair out of your eyes. You let out a quiet sigh as you looked up at him, realizing that he’d heard you.

“Where I ran off to is none of your business, for the record,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. He ignores your jaggedness and continues.

“First, you flirt with my little brother right in front of me all evening, Then you sneak away to fuck my twin brother, during his own party, knowing that I could find you there.” He brings his hand up to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek softly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were trying to make me jealous…”

You look up at him, answering smartly, “What would you say if I was?” A smirk washes over his face at your answer, and you hate that you’re feeding right into his ego, but the alcohol in your system doesn’t seem to care. 

“I told you earlier, sweetheart- If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask,” he says, leaning down to brush his nose against your cheek, then whispering directly into your ear. “But now you’ve got me all worked up… And we can’t have that, can we? You can’t just tease me in public like that and expect me to let you get away with it.”

Your breath grows shaky as the feeling of his mouth so close to you starts to intoxicate you. “What are you going to do?” you ask.

“I think I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, sunshine…” he answers, bringing his hands down to your hips and guiding you over to the sink, resting your back against the cold marble. He leans in once more, resting his lips against the shell of your ear. “If you’re going to act like a slut, then I am going to treat you like one.”

With that, his hands turn you around, bending you over the sink. You plant your hands firmly on either side of the counter, panting slightly from the anticipation as your eyes meet his in the mirror. His lips meet your shoulder, placing soft kisses there then slowly down your back. His left hand rests on your hip while his right is planted firmly on the small of your back, keeping you bent over in just the way he wants. You’ve never been handled by a man like this before, and you’re not complaining.

You feel his hands slowly slide your dress up over your ass to rest on your hips, much like your encounter with Josh not long ago. But Josh is long gone from your mind now- all you can think about is the feeling of Jake’s breath on your skin as he plants agonizingly slow kisses on your thighs.

 As Jake sees your core, bare and open to him underneath your dress, he lets out a deep groan. “Fucking filthy. I knew it,” he mumbles, then sucks a love bite on your asscheek, placing a soft kiss afterward. He brings his face back up to meet your gaze in the mirror once again.

He pulls your hair over your left shoulder then starts sucking the sensitive part of your neck as his fingers start to run through your folds. His eyes look up to meet yours in the mirror as he removes his lips from you for a second.

“He didn’t make you cum, did he, sweetheart?” he asks, kissing your shoulder as his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles against it. You bite your lip to stifle the moan that almost erupted from deep inside your chest and then shake your head “No.”

“No, he didn’t, did he? Left that job to me, huh?” he mumbles against your skin. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take good care of you.”

Jake crouches back down and then spreads your cheeks apart, letting out a low groan as he plants a wet kiss right on your folds and immediately dives in. You have to steady yourself from the sudden movement and quiet your moans with a bite of your lip as he attacks your core from behind you.

He makes quick work of you as his tongue pleasures your pussy, licking deep inside and making you feel like never before. His right hand wraps around you and makes quick circles around your clit, causing you to let out a quiet moan. He groans against your core at the sound and palms himself through his pants as he gets you closer and closer to your climax. As he hears your noises become less and less controlled, he can tell you’re close. 

“That’s it, baby, cum all over my face like the dirty whore you are, you know I want it,” he says quickly before diving back into you. His pace quickens even more and before you know it, you feel your orgasm crashing over you. It’s like something you’d never felt before, it erupts from you before you can even see it coming and you can’t stop it. Jake coaxes you through it, helping you down from it. 

You finally come down from your high, you turn around to face him and find his face completely soaked. You gasp at the sight before pulling him up and capturing his lips with yours, tasting yourself as your tongue slips into his mouth. He moans into your mouth, pulling you closer to him. You feel his hard cock against your core, straining against his pants, causing you to whine against his lips. 

You pull away from him, resting your forehead on his. “Jake…” you say, resting your hands around his waist. “Let me make you feel good…” Your eyes meet his and you can see the internal battle happening in his head as he shakes his head and shows you his watch. 11:54. 

Shit. You had to go, and he knew it. Your eyes soften as you look up at him. “I’m sorry,” you utter as he backs away from you, allowing you to exit the bathroom. You unlock the door, pull it open, and then turn around to look at him one more time. There’s a look in his eye that you can’t place, but you don’t have the time to ask him about it at this moment. 

You rush down the stairs to find all the partygoers in the living room, watching the ball-drop countdown on Josh’s flatscreen TV. You see Josh, leaning against the wall near the dining room holding his drink, by himself. Your heart sank a bit knowing that he was alone and didn’t know where you were, but it didn’t matter now.

“Hi, baby, sorry it took me so long,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist. He looks over at you, a smile growing on his face. “I had a lot more to drink tonight than I thought, so I had to take a couple more minutes to collect myself.”

“That’s okay, darlin’. I’m just glad you're here now, you’re just in time,” he says with a grin, placing a soft kiss on your cheek as you both turn to watch the TV.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!

As the clock hits midnight, Josh wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you in for a long kiss. You cup both of his cheeks with your hands as you both share a special New Year’s kiss. As he finally pulls away, you can’t help but notice Jake across the room, standing alone with his eyes locked on you. You watch as he picks up his half-drank glass of whiskey and downs the rest of it, slamming it back down on the table and then walking out of the room to the kitchen. 

That’s when you knew that you were way over your head. You’re not sure how you can appease one twin without hurting the other. You realize that it all goes much deeper than you knew, and whatever you had with Jake wasn’t going away anytime soon. You know you have to face it head-on. But where will that lead you? You’ll likely end up breaking somebody’s heart, but whose will it be? If you’re not careful, it might be your own.

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read part three here

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[s1ckh1mb0]

Cw// homophobia, internalized homophobia

Reiner hurt to comfort?/fluff for male readers<3

Your heart broke whenever Cowboy! Reiner cried. He was your world, your everything, the reason why you could stay home and do as you please because he got up everyday to work with his friends on their farm to make money. And now he’s sitting here breaking down in front them.

You were immediately worried and quickly called him over. He left Annie and Bert’s side to run over to the side of the fence you were on. You immediately wrapped your arms around him and without thinking twice he broke down in your arms. “Shh shh doll. Hey what’s goin on?” And the culprit for this was none other than his wretched family. You never got along with them. They treated Reiner like an outsider ever since his teen years when he was outed as gay by his ex friend. They were basically your opps and as long as you lived you were gonna be the bane of their existence.

You gently guided Reiner over to you guys shared home. Bringing him to the living room and letting him rest his head on your lap “Rei baby what happened?” He could barely speak as he sobbed in your lap. Reiner by no means was an emotional man. He knew how to take things well. But when he was upset that shit was major. This was one of those times. You knew he needed some time so you didn’t rush him to speak. Running your hand through his dirty blonde hair, using you thumb to caress right where his undercut started. “S’ okay Rei, take your time okay? M’ here. We got all night.”

He felt weak in the moment. He didn’t want you to sit here worrying about him. You were both grown as men he should be able to take care of himself. When his cries started to slow down he looked up at you. “They called again… I don’t know why I answered I just- I thought that they’d finally come around. But they really do hate me. Hate who I am.”

“What’d the say this time baby?”

“They disowned me…”

Your eyes widened in shock. Not because of what they did but because they did now of all times. You two were days away from getting married and now they chose to just act like he wasn’t their family anymore.

“Are you shittin me?”

“I just don’t understand how. Maybe they were right. Maybe it is something wrong with me. With this.”

“What? Rei what are you-?” Just by the look in his eyes you could tell what he meant. It was the same look he had when you to were kids and he used to say he wished you were a girl so he could like you. He was starting to doubt himself. This was the main reason you hated his family. They had such a shitty affect on him. They made him fear what he was. As if he was some type of monster. “Hey, look at me okay?” Reiner couldn’t bring himself to do it at first. He felt physically disgusted with himself in the moment. It wasn’t until he felt your warm hand pressed against his dirt covered cheek and tilted his head to let his gaze meet yours.

You were always so soft with him. He loved that so fucking much about you. You never hated him or yelled at him when he would start to revert to his self hatred ways. In his eyes he truly didn’t deserve you. You deserved a real man. One who wasn’t as fucked as him. “I just thought…maybe if I straight they would love me. I could be their son and not their disappointment. Why couldn’t they just be there for me? Am I really that bad to be around because of who I am?”

You could feel the tears well up in your eyes. Who could make their own child feel this way? “Reiner I want you to listen to me okay? I love you more than fucking anything in the world. You are the best fiancé any man could ever ask for ya hear me? And you were an even better son to them than they deserved. Never in any way do you deserve the treatment they give you.”

“But mayb-”

“No, no maybe Reiner. We are going to be husbands. You make me happy. When you were with your family you would come to my place in shambles because of how badly they treated you. But now look at you. You’re in a better place than any of them and they can see that and they just wanna hurt you in any way they can now.”

Reiner hated that you were right. You always were when it came to his family. He was so blinded by wanting to make his family proud of him that he was willing to tear himself down. But you never allowed him and god was he thankful for that.

“I don’t know how you put up with me doll.”

You chuckled as he sat up and pressed his lips against yours. “I love you rei okay?” “Mm, love you too baby.”