#gotta keep posting...gotta keep moving....

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine Being Isekai'ed into KPOP DEMON HUNTERS. (part 3)

This chapter is mainly Baby (Beom) oriented!) THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT! I think this ones a little longer!(my tag list IS closed but you can follow the post in order to receive updates on when i make edits!! So sorry!)

Part 1 Part 2

To Y/N’s surprise, the Saja Boys were actually a talented bunch. Although, she wasn’t sure how much of it was raw talent or made by demonic power. 

The tired girl had finished up the lyrics, allowing Baby and Romance to write with her. She had ingrained into them that, if they used their fake charm on her, she would withdraw her offer and leave them to rot. Y/N despised flattery, it was a candy trail for those, foolish enough to pick up a piece of poisoned candy.

‘Huh, you really make it obvious. “Gotta drink every drop.”? I might as well tell them I'm a demon.’ Jinu sneered, with his hand over one headphone as he listened to the demo Y/N had drafted. His words, however sharp, bounced off Y/N as she noticed a small detail in Jinu’s behaviour.

‘Your shoulders are dancing.’ Y/N grinned cheekily, her chin resting on her balled fist.

‘I didn’t say it was bad.’ Jinu grumped, bopping his head to the beat. ‘Abel was right, you do have talent.’

‘Why thank you Jinu.’

‘Y/N?’ A voice called out, ‘For the rap, can you help me with some of my lyrics?’ Baby grasped Y/N’s hand delicately, as if unsure.

‘Hm? Yeah.’ Y/N slipped out of her chair, inconspicuously removing her fingers from Baby’s grip. She wasn’t sure how much of him was actually shy, and the other just a sarcastic mock of the industry’s infantilisation of idols.

‘Let me know if you want anything changed, Jinu.’ Y/N patted the older man on the shoulder quickly before moving over to sit with the youngest of the bunch. 

Jinu watched on with a familiar feeling in his chest.

Envy.

Greed.

Jinu blinked, quickly jerking his gaze away from Y/N and his youngest friend. Was he jealous? What for? His eyes narrowed, sneaking a glance at the pair again.

Y/N and Baby, were leaned over Y/N’s notebook, chattering animatedly. Baby, actually seemed to be enjoying the conversation.

‘Hey, wait, these are actually really good, kid!’ Y/N laughed, ruffling the hair of the youngest. The boy in return grumbled, red cheeked, battering Y/N’s hand away.

‘I’m over two hundred years old.’ He slumped over, laying his head on the cool marble table.

‘Huh, y’know sometimes I forget.’ She mused, looking at Baby’s now messy hair. 

‘Is this actually you writing or you guys using your powers.’

‘I was a poet before I took a deal with Gwi-ma. My name was Beom.’ He hummed, looking at the notebook, tapping the pen on his cheek.

‘I see! It really shows. You have really good flow as well.’ Y/N smiled, leaning back, forgetting that the stool had no backing.

‘Watch it.’ Jinu’s arm wrapped around her waist securely. His gaze was… conflicted? When did he move from the set up to the kitchen table?

Jinu was stuck between wanting her to fall and wanting to wrap her up to keep her safe. He could feel the heat of her skin through her thin shirt.

‘Holy crap, thanks Jinu. I forgot about these chairs. I don’t usually sit here, I don’t really have people over a lot.’ Y/N’s sentence drifted off, as she realised how sad that sentence sounded.

‘I mean, you’ll be stuck with us for a while.’ Beom smiled nervously, looking at the girl with hopeful eyes.

‘Yeah, this song will take me less than three days. I mean, look at your writing! It’s been less than two hours and you’re already almost done with your lyrics!’ Y/N praised, forgetting for a split moment that she was talking to a demon.

‘Thanks Y/N.’ Beom beamed, standing up and gathering his notes. ‘I’m going to go practice with the music!’

‘Alrighty kid, let me know if you need anything.’ Y/N called, watching the man’s blue hair bounce slightly as he ran over to join Romance, Mystery, and Abel.

‘Why are you pretending to be nice to them?’ Jinu sounded irritated, his voice was filled with aggression. 

‘Huh? I’m not pretending to be nice. In fact, I actively claim to be a rude and disagreeable person.’ Y/N crossed her arms, at his accusatory tone. Why was he being so rude to her? He was at least somewhat nice to Rumi in the movie. Maybe, even kind.

‘Yeah well, I can see that.’ Jinu bit back, staring at her with a similar stance.

‘Look Jinu, I don’t know what your problem is, but I'm helping you at the moment so the least you can do is be nice to me. Or in the least, be agreeable.’ She spun around, picking up her note book and standing. ‘I get that I’m not pretty like the rest of Huntr/x but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad when you treat me differently.’

‘Who said I thought you weren’t pretty?’ He frowned, looking confused. ‘I’m an asshole, not blind.’ 

Y/N  waved him off, seemingly seeing through his lie.

‘Flattery won’t get you anywhere. I’m not stupid Jinu. All I’m saying is, you don’t have to hate me.’

‘But I-’ 

‘Let's go over the lyrics. Is there anything you want me to change? Do you want line distribution done by you or by me?’ Y/N picked up a pen, changing the topic so quickly it almost gave Jinu whiplash.

‘Uh…’

‘Well, Jinu was a singer before we became like this. He should have the most lines.’ Abel hummed, leaning over Y/N’s shoulder. 

‘I think we can take care of line distribution. Did you wanna change anything?’ Abel smiled as he continued. ‘I think we’re ready to record!’

Y/N nodded at the taller man before turning to look back at Jinu.

‘Is there anything you wanted me to look at Jinu? Or did you wanna start recording?’ Y/N tilted her head, a habit she had picked up from leaning to listen to Bobby ramble during loud Huntr/x concerts.

��No, they look good. Let's start recording.’ Jinu looked at the hand that Abel had placed on the small of Y/N’s back, guiding her towards her set up. Why did he feel heat spreading through his chest? An uncomfortable burning that set him aflame with this... resentment. 

--

The recording lasted only two other hours, but the mixing and mastering lasted the rest of the night. Y/N ended up with eyebags and heavy eyelids as she finished up using her pitch corrector and adjusting the mixer levels to be within industry standards. She slumped down the back of her chair as she pressed export, sending it to be downloaded onto her desktop.

‘ ‘m done.’ She mumbled, closing her eyes as she slid off her noise cancelling headphones. The boys had decided to stay in her apartment to figure out the choreography. Of course, being demons meant they didn’t have to sleep so they actually could spend hours upon hours doing whatever suited them.

Honestly though, Y/N was surprised that they actually came up with their own choreography. She had thought it was just some spell the demons had cast to make it easier. 

‘Wow, that was fast!’ Romance commented.

‘Can we hear it?’ Mystery asked, leaning to rest his forearms on Y/N’s seat from above.

‘Mm.’ Y/N mumbled laying her head on her crossed arms and ignored the boys. She was getting too old for these all-nighters. She could feel the youth drain out of her body as she closed her eyes. 

‘Oh oh! Me first!’ She could hear the boys squabbling over who got to hear the finalised version first. The voices began to drown out, as Y/N drifted into a silent sleep. Blocking out the noise from the conscious world. Whenever she overworked, she tended to pass out completely rendering her useless to the rest of the world. Not even alarm clocks would wake her up. Several times, Bobby had to come into her apartment and rouse her from sleep. It was why he had a spare key card. He wanted to make sure Y/N was alive during the weeks where they were preparing for a new album.

‘Be quiet.’ Jinu hushed the group, looking at Y/N, hearing her slowed, steady breaths. 

‘She’s asleep. Y/N’s been working on this the whole night.’ He said slowly, eyes tracing over her slowly rising shoulders.

‘Right. Should we leave her here or?’ Beom kneeled down to look up at Y/N’s sleeping face. He made a mental note of how Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered when her eyes moved behind her closed lids.

‘I’ll carry her back to her room. Keep practicing the choreo, just make sure you’re quiet.’  Jinu kneeled, delicately slipping his hands under Y/N’s knees and wrapping a protective arm around her neck. He stood with little effort, his demon strength aiding him in carrying Y/N.

He nudged a door open, decorated with sound proofing foam with his foot, peeking around to see if it were her room. He hummed in amusement, spotting pages of writing on the floor, scattered in a semi readable pattern.

‘So you’re a work-aholic, huh?’ He whispered, laying Y/N down on her back. The room was relatively clean despite the lyric sheets scattered on the floor. It looked like she spent more time in her set up than in her room.

Y/N groaned, as she rolled over in the bed, hunching over.

‘Cold?’ Jinu mumbled, shifting Y/N’s legs so he could grab the comforter and lay it over the sleeping girl. He watched as Y/N’s face smoothed, relaxing under the light pressure of her blanket. 

A rush of warmth.

What? Since when did he feel anything but rage and shame. He had feelings, but none of them ever felt so…

So tranquil, as if it were lulling him into a gentle embrace.

No.

He didn’t have time for that. Jinu needed his memories gone so he could move on with his life. He was sure that he could find a way to leave Gwi-ma’s hold, he just had to get past his first hurdle. 

‘Who cares if you’re pretty or not. I’m not shallow enough to think that’s what matters.’ He muttered, turning around before pausing. 

‘And I never said you weren’t pretty.’ He added, before stepping quietly out of the room. Jinu returned to the living room after closing Y/N’s door, watching his friends practice their new choreography.

‘Is she asleep?’ Mystery asked, pausing the music as he spotted Jinu stalking back towards them with a sour face.

‘Yeah, let’s get to work.’ Jinu nodded, taking his position in the formation. ‘Abel did you figure out the entire dance?’

‘That's right.’ Abel looked proud, his thumb pointing toward his chest. ‘Y’think Y/N will like it?’ 

‘She doesn’t have to like it. It’s about whether or not the people will. We’re stealing the fans.’

‘I think it would be nice if Y/N also liked the dance.’ Beom rolled his eyes, sassing the leader.

‘She isn’t important. We’re just using her to make sure we can steal Huntr/x’s fans and get Gwi-ma his souls.’ Jinu stated firmly, As if trying to convince himself of his own statement. He pressed play, resuming the music on the computer.

‘There's no need to be mean about it.’ The purple haired man hummed, before falling into position with the rest of the group.

‘Enough. We have two days left to have this choreo down. Let's start rehearsing.’

A soft melody of whistling, and popfunk synth filled the night, accompanied by shuffling footsteps and quiet singing. Y/N remained fast asleep as the boys practiced well into the morning, each man making sure to be as quiet as possible to keep from waking their new producer and writer. 

-

Y/N winced as she stretched her complaining joints, creaking in protest. She sat up, rubbing her sleep filled eyes, looking around at the new scenery. Huh, she was in her room. Last she remembered, she was laying her head down on her desk after finishing Soda Pop. The tired girl roused herself from the bed, shrugged on a random jumper and opened her door.

A soft whump as the boys landed on their feet into their ending pose.

‘Huh, that's lookin’ good!’ Y/N cocked her head, an approving smile lighting up her face. ‘Wanna show me the number from the top?’ 

Pressing play, Y/N watched the boys easily slide into their beginning poses and begin their song from the top. It was extremely impressive, the way Jinu’s voice was almost an exact one to one of the recording. His stage presence was evident, even in her very own living room. Mystery had an incredibly sweet voice, whilst Romance had a round, upbeat one. Coupled with Beom’s deep voice and Abel’s boyish charm, the group meshed into a force to be reckoned with.

Huntr/x really did have some competition. But Y/N was sure that she would be able to figure out a way to stop Gwi-ma from slipping through the Honmoon. 

She’d find a way.

‘Thoughts?’ Jinu grinned, his chest heaving from exertion. 

‘If you guys weren’t trying to take over the world, I’d actually consider taking you on as personal clients.’ Y/N smirked, turning around to switch off the music. 

‘A couple more times and I think you guys have it down to perfection.’ She laughed, turning her chair to open up her browser.

‘Watcha doing?’ Beom walked over, dragging another gaming chair with him. Y/N kept several of those for whenever she had HUntr/x over.

‘I’m gonna send you guys the file so you can upload it. That way you can also have it in your respective phones.’ Y/N hummed, logging into her email.

‘What's your email?’ 

A pause.

‘Do you guys even have phones?’ Y/N blinked, turning back to face the boys.

‘Yeah, here I’ll give you mine, Beom nodded enthusiastically, putting his phone on the table in front of Y/N. 

‘Alrighty Beom, I’ll send it over to you. After this, I’m going to get breakfast. Are you guys gonna go home?’ Y/N clicked away on her screen, typing in the details of Beom’s email.

‘We’ll get breakfast for you.’ Mystery called out, already walking away towards the elevator. The rest of the boys besides Beom walked towards the door.

‘Beom will stay here with you.’ Jinu clarified, walking towards the door that led to the stairs.

‘Hey Abel, do you think you could out run me on the stairs while I took the elevator?’ Jinu struck up a challenge in a prodding tone.

A challenge that Abel jumped on.

‘Oh, you’re on.’ Abel flung open the door and rushed down the stairs. The pattering off feet on stairs diminished slowly, echoing off the stairwell.

Jinu however, strolled leisurely back to the elevator door and pushed the button. He met Y/N’s confused stare with a confident smile and said, 

‘He's the biggest one and I wanted more space. Y’know how it goes.’ He walked into the elevator doors as they opened, whilst Romance and Mystery gave small chuckles, shaking their heads.

‘We’ll see you soon Y/N.’ Romance waved as the doors closed.

The girl slowly side-eye'd Beom and pressed send on the email she had written.

‘So, is there anything else you wanted me to do?’ Y/N spun around in her chair lazily, allowing the inertia of her spinning chair to keep her entertained.

‘No not really. Although, I do want to say that, I saw another song in your notebook.’ Beom’s eyes followed Y/N’s spinning figure.

‘Wait what?’ Y/N slammed her hands on the table, grasping at her notebook.

‘Did you write that for us?’ Beom’s tone was inquisitive.

And there it was. The back bone of ‘Your Idol’ written out in the notebook. When had she written this?

‘I… It’s not finished.’ She gazed into the book, as if in a trance. 

‘It looks pretty cool! I hope that I can hear it one day.’ Beom shrugged, leaning back on his chair.

‘So, a poet huh? What made you choose that path?’ Y/N closed her notebook, setting it aside. She wanted to change the subject, and fast. ‘Your Idol’ wasn’t meant to be written already and if she were being honest, she wanted to avoid the story plot advancing to that stage.

‘Yeah, my father was a court official in the palace. They wanted me to become a scholar and follow his footsteps.’ His eyes were glazed over, staring out the glass window.

‘Yet, all I wanted to do was write. I wanted to make words flow into a beautiful stream, to be read and understood by all.’ He continued, smiling slightly before his eyes came back into focus.

‘But my father disapproved.’ Beom's gaze hardened and his jaw was set.

‘He wanted me to be just like him. A cunning, snivelling leach who kissed the feet of the emperor. So I took a deal with Gwi-ma. That I’d give him my soul and in return, I would be a well known writer, famous enough to sustain myself and my mother.’ Beom’s hands were clutched in tight fists.

‘And so?’ Y/N prompted cautiously, leaning over, elbows on her knees, resting her head on her open palms.

‘It was amazing at first. People paid to hear my poems, they came from all over the country. But then the patterns started. And they kept spreading until Gwi-ma took me into the underworld.’ Beom’s patterns flashed, his form glitching for a split second into his true image.

‘He took you?’ 

‘Yes. Just like he took Jinu and the rest of the boys. I guess he wanted to use us somehow. Gwi-ma always takes back the favours he’s owed. It’s part of the reason we’re here.’ Beom sighed, shaking his head as if to clear away thoughts, clouding his mind.

‘But even here, we can still hear him. Telling us we aren’t enough. That we deserve nothing and that without him, we’d be rotting in the dirt.’ Beom smiled bitterly, looking up at Y/N through his lashes.

‘Well that's simply untrue.’ Y/N laughed, sliding her chair closer to Beom’s side.

‘I think you would have been successful, even if you didn’t take that deal. I mean look at your own writing! I’m a harsh critic, trust me. But you wrote these lyrics in such little time and they’re actually good!’ Y/N gently placed a hand over Beom’s shoulder, in a comforting motion. 

A spark. 

Just like before.

A jolt of white blue electricity, emanating from her fingertips into Beom’s skin, Illuminating his patterns. Y/N slowly took her hand away, watching the boy’s patterns rippled, amalgamating with the white blue light.

‘How did you…’ Beom stood abruptly, splaying his hands, flexing his fingers. ‘My patterns, they… You made them shine.’ He looked utterly stunned.

‘Um… I don’t know?-’

‘My head!’ Beom raised a shaky hand toward his forehead. ‘I can’t hear him. I can’t hear Gwi-ma. How is that possible?’ His eyes snapped to Y/N, yet there was not an ounce of malice in his gaze.

‘I’m still me, but I can’t hear him! Do you think he could still call me back? Does he still have control over me? I have GOT to tell the others.’ Beom hurriedly pulled out his phone, typing away a message possibly to a groupchat of the Saja Boys.

‘No, wait. Don’t’ Y/N grasped at Beom’s wrist. ‘You can’t tell them. If Jinu finds out, he won’t be happy.’ She reasoned, whilst lowering Beom’s hand.

‘That's true… He still wants his memories erased. You’re right.’ Beom nodded, sitting back down, placing his phone back in his pocket.

‘But how did you do it? Is it permanent?!’ He rambled on eagerly, like a puppy that had just found a new toy.

‘I’m not sure honestly. I mean, I was meant to be a hunter but… I can’t manifest a weapon. Maybe it has something to do with that?’ Y/N raised one eyebrow, turning her hands to splay her palms. She scrutinized each line on her palm, wondering if she could control whatever it was.

‘Well whatever, I’ll keep your secret Y/N.’ Beom softly wrapped his hands around Y/N’s and lifted her left hand. ‘Just promise me you won’t think too badly about Jinu?’

Y/N looked up, bewildered at the sudden mention of Jinu.

‘He’s not actually a bad person. He just… He wants to forget his mistakes. I know it seems selfish but it’s been four hundred years. Jinu barely talks to us about it. I think that's what’s slowly eating away at him.’ Beom explained, releasing Y/N’s hand and leaning back on his chair.

‘I think he just has to accept his actions. But it’s easier said than done. His mistake cost him his family. The rest of us didn’t actually leave anything behind, so we don’t understand how he feels.’ Beom continued, shrugging his shoulders. ‘It doesn’t help that he hears Gwi-ma the most. He’s been with Gwi-ma the longest so Jinu’s already so heavily under that old man's influence.’ 

‘I see.’ Y/N let out a short snort. ‘But I don’t think he’s going to talk about it with me to be honest. He very clearly hates me.’

‘What makes you think that?’ Beom looked floored, as if this were a new revelation.

‘Um, hello? He insults me whenever he sees an opportunity? He never smiles around me and lets not mention that he accused me of being fake.’ Y/N rolled her eyes, slumping down in her chair.

‘Jinu’s just like that. He’s blunt and prickly, but that's how he protects himself, and us. But, Y/N I think, he doesn’t hate you. He genuinely thinks you're talented! And, he was the first one by your side when you collapsed last night on the street.’

‘Huh..’ 

‘Yep! Jinu doesn’t hate you.’

Y/N was about to retort as the elevator dinged happily, the doors revealing three of the boys, the same ones as before.

‘Huh, where’s-’

‘AH HAH.’ Abel cried out, flinging the stairwell door open. ‘See? I can make it up the stairs at the same time. I'M A BEAST.’ 

‘Oh honey…’ Y/N stifled a chuckle behind her fist.

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[chromehoney]

Hey really like your writing and I was wondering if could do more smoke and stack black!fem!curvy/plusize!reader. I do think this will go well with the nerdy/girl next door or the independent baddie type of reader. But you make her personality and lifestyle whatever you want.

aweee thank youu!!! and ofcccc , this is a little rushed since i just wanted to get atleast one request done today so excuse errors!!!

You was tired. Tired of them twins—Smoke and Stack—playing in your face like they didn’t want you. Like they ain’t watch your ass in every room, talk about “that damn dress,” whisper in your ear at family functions, make you cream off one look. They’d tease, flirt, touch your thigh in the truck, but never make a real move. And the second you put a little distance? Act like they owned you.

So tonight, you said fuck it.

Your thick ass was outside at one of your friends parties in a strapless bodycon that gripped every roll and dip like sin itself. Soft pink, and made to make a man stutter. You had on lashes that batted without tryin’, nails long and wicked, diamond studs shining through your wild curly hair as you laughed with your girls. You posted a story before you left the house, of a picture you took of your body in your long vertical body mirror, the dress was thin so the picture got the outlines of your tits and your nipples were poking out, and the picture also showed a lil’ hip. You weren’t playin’ shy no more.

That was until your phone buzzed in your purse.

SMOKE: Bring yo’ ass home.

STACK: Before we come find you.

Your heart jumped.

You swallowed thick. Laughed a little too hard, trying to play it off—until you caught sight of him. Trey. One of Smoke and Stack’s old running buddies. Standing across the bar like he ain’t have a damn drink, arms crossed, eyes on you. No smile. Just watchin’. Close enough to move if needed. That’s when you knew. They had eyes. Ears. Everywhere . Shit, they probably knew what color your panties were before you left the house.

You snatched your keys. Whispered to your girls, “I gotta go. Emergency.” They looked confused, but you didn’t stop to explain. Just shuffled fast in those heels, heart pounding, thighs rubbing, heat blooming between them before you even made it to your car. The house was dark as hell when your car pulled up.

But the porch light was on.

They was waiting. Smoke leaning against the railing, Stack sitting back in the chair beside him, both passing a fat joint between calloused fingers. Lazy, country, smug as hell. They wore black tees that clung to muscle, jeans sitting low, boots tapping against the wood.

You stepped out the car slow.

Their eyes dragged down your body like rough hands. That damn dress clung to your ass like it was made to sin. Stack’s jaw clenched. Smoke exhaled smoke through his nose, eyes low and hot. “Didn’t we say bring yo’ ass home?” Stack muttered, voice thick like molasses and thunder.

“She was tryna show out,” Smoke said, barely glancing at his brother, like he couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Look at her. Lil’ dress tight as hell. Like she want somebody to rip it off.”

“You mad?” you asked, head cocked, lips pursed—trying to keep your bratty edge, even while your thighs pressed tight. “No,” Stack stood up, slow and towering, licking his lips. “We done bein’ mad.” “We done playin’, too,” Smoke added. You ain’t get another word out before you were pushed back against the front door, that joint flicked into the grass.

Four hands. Rough, greedy, mean.

Smoke grabbed your chin and made you look up. “You think you grown, huh? Think you can tease us? Walk around in that lil’ dress and not get fucked like we hate you for it?”

Stack was already behind you, hand fisting the hem of that tight fabric. “You made us chase you. Made us watch you postin’ pics like you single.” “I am—” His hand cracked across your ass. “Say it again.”You whimpered. “I ain’t!…” “Damn right,” Smoke growled, dragging his tongue down your cleavage. “You ours. Say it.”

“Y-Yours—”

And then they was on you. Everywhere. Clothes ripped, dress yanked, lips bitten, thighs pinned wide against the door. You were lifted, filled, devoured. One held your wrists while the other fucked you deeper than breaths. Their mouths left marks on your tits, your throat, your soul. Each thrust came with a growl, a curse, a whisper about how they should’ve claimed you sooner. You cried and came, then cried some more—smeared and swollen, your lip gloss gone and your sass unraveling like lace.

They fucked you like they hated you. But kissed you like they owned you. And when it was over—your body limp and slick in their arms, breath shallow—Smoke played with your curls as he fixed his mouth to speak. “We done playin’, baby.

Stack kissed your neck, slow and possessive. “Time to settle the fuck down.“ You blinked up at them. Mascara running. Cheeks flushed. And all you could do was nod. Because deep down… You knew you weren’t going nowhere ever again.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers!

btw , i got alllll yalls requests done! i’m surprised but i did it. so imma drop em in bulk , another one should be coming out either later on today to tomorrow .. depending on how im feeling!! after they all drop imma give myself a few daysss to rest from writing before i start a new fic.. ‘m thinking maybe annie x fem reader ??? andddd there’s also gone be a new series comin’ out so stay tuned for that.

[hearts4hughes]

https://www.tumblr.com/hearts4hughes/786738253259816960/exbf-rafe-is-breaking-me-especially-reader

I hear what this anon is saying

But

I like ex!Rafe 🤷

Ex!Rafe finding out reader’s out with a guy who Rafe sees as a danger to her. Like idk the guy drives his bike without a helmet and Rafe catches reader and this guy going really fast and neither are wearing helmets. So Rafe, rightfully so, loses his shit at how reckless this man is being with reader

he shouldn’t be checking. it’s pathetic—he knows that. it’s the kind of behavior he’d mock if it belonged to anyone else. but rafe’s thumb moves anyway, thoughtless, practiced. tap, scroll, tap. your profile loads like muscle memory, like something god designed to live under his gaze.

you haven’t blocked him. though, you unfollowed him, obviously. but your account’s still public, and tonight you posted. his heart starts racing faster. he prays it’s a photo of you smiling. maybe candid. something to remind him what you look like happy. instead, it’s a video. some shaky clip from someone else’s story, reshared to yours. it’s short, grainy, barely visible. it’s loud with motion…wind…and you—

on the back of a motorcycle.

your bare arms are wrapped around someone else. someone taller, broader, clad in a leather jacket. he’s helmetless. that’s when rafe realizes that you are too. the speed at which the motorcycle moves, it’s not freedom, it’s a death wish. the kind of recklessness rafe is all too familiar with.

the video clicks off and he watches it again, and again. luckily you forgot to turn your location off. his jaw tightens. breath caught like smoke in his chest. he doesn’t think, just grabs his keys and slides into the porsche like it’s an exhale.

~

you don’t see the headlights at first. you’re smiling too hard, windblown, and dizzy from the ride. everything smells like late june and gasoline, and there’s a part of you that liked pretending you weren’t the kind of girl who used to fall asleep to rafe’s quarterly earnings calls and wake up to his cologne on your sheets.

then he’s there. almost like he never left. he’s pulling up fast, aggressive—like always. his windows are down, engine of the car you used to love purring with a threat. your stomach drops.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” rafe says, stepping out of the car like a storm in black sweatpants—gray hoodie, hair wild, eyes darker than you remember. darker than they have any right to be.

the guy on the bike blinks. he looks between the two of you and laughs. “can we help you, bro?”

rafe doesn’t even look at him. his gaze’s locked on you like he’s trying to burn a hole clean through your chest. “get off the bike.”

your heart jumps and your cheeks fill with color. “rafe-“

“now.”

the guy scoffs. “you her dad or something?”

“no,” rafe says flatly. “but i know what her skull looks like on a CT scan. do you?”

the silence that follows his deafening. the guy clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. you swing your leg off the bike slowly, grounding your heels like it might keep the earth from shaking. “it was just a ride.”

rafe laughs. it’s not a nice sound. “yeah? just a ride on the back of a stranger’s death machine with zero protection while he weaves through traffic like he’s trying to impress you?”

“he’s not a stranger-” you begin. your knees start to buckle, lip quivers.

“you don’t know him,” he snaps. “you don’t know what he drinks, if he takes pills, if he texts while driving,” he inhales deeply. “you don’t know who’s holding your fucking life in their hands and you’re smiling like it’s a goddamn music video.”

you flinch. the guy shifts behind you, arms folding. “hey, man, maybe take it down a-”

rafe rounds on him. “shut the fuck up,” his tone leaves no room for debate. “don’t talk to me. don’t talk to her. don’t look at her.”

you don’t speak. not yet. your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek, adrenaline sharpening everything, the taste of regret already forming behind your tongue.

rafe turns back to you, jaw tight, hands clenched at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “what were you thinking?” his voice breaks. not loud, but raw. “you think this proves something? that you’re free? you’re not. you’re just-” he swallows and looks away for half a second. “you’re just lucky i saw it before the morgue did.”

you hate how your throat tightens. how the shame tastes so familiar. how his worry still lives on you like perfume that won’t wash off. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“you didn’t scare me,” he lies. then, softer he murmurs, “you gutted me.”

you look down. gravel crunches under your shoes as you shift your weight. “i don’t belong to you anymore, rafe.”

“you never stopped,” he says, almost too quiet. then he opens his passenger door before you can argue. he doesn’t say anything, but the disappointment in his eyes bores through you like a laser. you start to walk forward and the guy behind you scoffs before taking off. tears well in your eyes as you slip onto his leather seat.

the door clicks open as he gets in the driver’s seat. he turns his head, gaze softening now that you’re with him—safe. “if i catch you pulling shit like that again,” he pauses to regain his composure. “i’ll bury whatever asshole you’re with.”

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Locked Out of Heaven 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Nick bends over, smothering your lips as he snarks. You still have your hand on him, moving it just like he said. He puts his hand over yours and stops you. 

He parts and hovers over you, “slow down, girl.” 

You exhale and stare up at him. His eyes crawl down and his hand follows. He traces along your throat and down to your chest. He cups the curve of your flesh and bends over you. He kisses each nipple and you twitch. 

He trails down your stomach and across your pelvis, then back up. He frames your chin and kisses you again. He glues his lips to yours and plants a hand next to you. He stretches his legs out and moves to hold himself in a plank above you. 

You reach with your fingers and graze his thighs. Slowly you explore his skin, up to his stomach, and finally his chest. He purrs and nibbles your lip. He lowers his pelvis until his dick rubs against you. He wiggles and you gasp. 

“You wanna put me in?” He rasps. 

Your eyes are foggy and your insides are bubbly. This is it. The moment. The point of no return passed so long ago but it’s all too real right then. Him gazing down at you; you beneath him, his skin against yours. 

“Sure... uh.” 

“Just do what you feel, princess,” he coaxes. “I’m all yours. Do what you want with me.” 

You drag your hand back down, feeling his muscle, and his tip twitches against the back of your hand. You shakily touch him and dip below his length. You slip down and grip him. He rests his knees between yours and lowers himself gently. 

You guide him along your folds. You flinch as he glides along the slickness. You hold your breath and push him further back. You line him up with your entrance and your eyes widen. 

“Baby, you gotta breathe, okay? Or you’ll be all tense,” he cooes and lowers himself onto an elbow. He pets your forehead, tracing your sweaty hairline. “You ready.” 

You blow your breath from your nose and tilt your hips. You nod and bite your tongue. He rests his forehead against yours, your noses flush. He pushes past your fingers. 

He stretches you with his tip. You press your palm to his chest and he pecks your lips again. He hums as you clench. You whimper. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he coaxes. “Alright, just a little at a time.” 

He pulls out of you. You groan. He prods you again, poking inside just as far as before. You whine again. He does it several times, each thrust easier than the last. 

“You can make noise, baby. No one’s gonna hear us,” he drawls. “Why don’t you touch yourself, huh? It will feel better.” 

You moan. You obey and roll two fingers between your folds. You swirl around your clit, the sparks it strikes sending a swell through you. This time, he pushes in a little deeper. 

He rocks his hips steadily. His lips covers yours and he delves his tongue into your mouth. His kiss stifles your rising voice. It hurts as he dives in just a bit more. 

You tremble as he eases in more and more. Each thrust he pulls back until he’s not even touching you, only to plunge back in. You can’t tell how much, it’s all a lot. It’s too much. 

You almost bite him before you rip your mouth away from his. You turn your head and whine through your teeth. Your fingers slide down your clit, your juices coating them. Your fingertips brush against him. 

“Princess, you want this, don’t you? You said you wanted this?” He smears his lips over your cheek. “You put me in. You want it.” 

“Y-y-yea,” you stutter. “Yeah, I... oh, god.” 

Your eyes roll back and your head lolls. He groans and you feel something change. He slides deep into you, as far as he can go, and he drones as he collapses onto you. He breathes heavily as he crushes you under his dead weight. 

“Baby, do you feel that? That’s all of me.” His lips tickle your temple. 

Your eyes bead with tears. You can feel it. All of it. You’re full in a way that makes you throb. 

“Nick,” you croak. “I...” 

He pulls back and you choke. He dips in again and you squeal. You push against your clit as your toes curl. You bend your legs higher, cradling him between them, and bite your tongue. 

“I told you, play with yourself, princess. It’ll be easier,” he pumps again. “Do it.” 

You hum and drag your fingers between your folds. You flick them around and your thighs quiver against him. He pushes into you until he can go no deeper. 

You hiss behind your teeth and arch your back. He raises himself and sits on his knees. He drapes your legs over his, scooping his hands under your ass. He looks down as he rocks, watching himself delve into you. 

You look down too. You lift your head until you can see him in you. Your fingers work faster and he matches your rhythm. You hang your head back and moan. 

The pain slowly recedes. Your fears with it. You squirm and spasm. Nick pushes your hand away and puts his thumb to your clit. He rolls it around and around, his pace quickening. 

You cry out as you cum again. You pulse around him, soaking him in delight. He slows. You drift into the afterglow but he’s not done. 

You shake and writhe as he keeps his tempo even. He runs his hand up your stomach and back down. He spreads your folds as once more he watches himself impale you, thrusting into you, over and over. 

He rubs your clit again. You babble as he plucks at your oversensitive nerves. It isn’t long before another orgasm rains down on you. 

He bends and slips his arms under you. He sits back, lifting you with him and kisses your lips. His breath encircles you as he lays a trail along your cheek and jaw. You sink onto him until you feel him in your stomach. 

“Your turn. Keep going,” he growls. “Fuck me.” 

Your insides churn with his command. You are enthralled by it. You sling your arm behind his neck and spread your other hand over the left side of his chest. 

You tilt your hips. You feel him so intensely. You buck again and whine. Again. Again. You can’t stop as friction warms between you, nestling in your clit. 

You roll your hips. You moan and run your hand up to his hair. You cling to his thick locks and kiss him. You want to eat him up. Devour him. 

He cups your ass as he helps you. Guiding you from below. Faster and faster. 

You twitch and cum again. You whine out shakily and hug him, paralysed by another sweltering ripple. You hang your head over his shoulder and whimper. 

He shifts back onto his rear. He unwraps your arm from around him, playing with your hand as he sprawls out beneath you. You can barely keep yourself up as sweat trickles down your spine. 

He frames your hips and guides them. He lifts you up his length and shoves you back down. Up. Down. Up. Down. He grits his teeth and growls, the noise rising from deep in his chest. You put your palms to his stomach and leverage yourself over him. 

“That’s it, baby girl. That’s it. I... I can’t hold out. It hurts.” He grits. “Please, can I cum, baby? Tell me I can cum.” 

“Y-y-you... can... cum.” You sputter. 

“I can?” He groans. “Princess, really?” 

“Please... please, you can cum. Please cum,” you beg, lashes fluttering, insides swimming. “Pl-e-easeeee.” 

He grunts and fucks up into you. He holds your hips in place as he hammers from below. You push your head back and your arms hang limp at your sides as he loses control. He bounces you wildly, roaring as you feel him gush inside you. 

He stills you. You sit on him, shivering in the sunlight. His hands fall down to your thighs, laying on them weakly. His eyes crinkle as he squeezes them shut and his neck strains. He puffs out and shudders. 

You put your hands over his and try to lift yourself. He groans and shakes his head. “Stay, stay,” he hisses. “Not yet.” 

You stay as you are. You rub his knuckles and watch his chest rise and fall. You’re drained of everything, ready to melt beneath the sun. 

He slips his hands from under yours and trails up your arms. He pulls you down, folding you over him. He hooks his arms around you and traps you against him. He kisses your hair and purrs. 

“Wanna stay like this forever?” He whispers. 

💜

Nick hands you another can of the sparkling citrus drink. You’re not sure if it’s the first one, the sun, or the physical exertion but you’re dizzy and a bit spaced out. You thank him as you sit on the cushioned bench in the shade of the cabin. You push the tab in and sip, cheeks pinching at the tartness. 

“Ahh,” Nick sighs. “How are you doing?” 

He’s forgone his shorts, instead, a towel slung haphazardly around his waist. You’re in only the coverup, the sheer fabric doing little to hide your nudity. You’re not thinking enough to care. 

“Good,” you smile behind the can. It wasn’t just once. He kept going even when you thought it was over. At least two more times, depending how you count it. 

The air cools as it sweeps through the open back of the boat. Nick rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. He slurps from his own can; pre-mixed whiskey soda. 

“It’s getting late. Don’t wanna be out on the water when it gets dark,” he muses. 

“Oh, we should head back,” you look out onto the waters. You can’t tell if you’re swaying or the boat. 

“Definitely close to docking time,” he agrees. “Baby,” he sits beside you. “You have a good day? You have fun?” 

You giggle and look at your lap. You rub your cheek as it singes. You shrug. “Sure I did.” 

He runs his knuckles up the front of the coverup and pinches your nipple through it. You squeak and look at him. 

“You’re still shy, huh? Even after you took me so good,” he smirks. 

Your brows pop up and you laugh again. You wiggle and glance down at the can. The condensation stains your fingers. 

“I... I guess.” 

“You did, you know?” He rubs your knee as he leans in. “You did so good, princess. And the noises—you sound as delicious as you feel, you know that?” He coughs and shifts. “I’m getting worked up again.” 

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry?” You bat your lashes at him. 

“Sorry? Baby, you’re amazing.” He kisses your temple. “But you can help... if you want.” 

“Um, help?” 

“Sure, I’ll drive us in and you can... take care of me. How about that?” 

“Take care?” 

“With your hand. Like before.” 

“Oh, sure, I’ll try,” your voice squeaks. 

“Baby, you’re too perfect,” he grabs your chin and turns your head. He kisses your lips, reluctantly drawing away. “Come on.” 

He stands, the towel tenting, and he heads for the front of the boat. You hesitate and get up to follow. He sits in the driver’s chair and you lower yourself next to him. You put the can in the cup holder beside his. 

He starts the engine and grips the wheel with one hand. With the other, he opens his towel. His dick springs up against his stomach. You stare and he stretches his arm across to rest his hand on your seat. 

“Here we go, princess.” He pets your shoulder with his thumb. 

He goes forward and you peek ahead. You reach over to him and touch his hard length. He twitches. You grab him and squeeze. It takes a moment for you to start. You stroke him from tip to base and back again. He groans and his knuckles pale. 

“That’s it,” he urges you on. 

He tickles the back of your neck as you keep going. You watch your hand, stunned at the sight, at the reality of what you’re doing. Even after everything else, it still feels so unreal. 

“Almost there,” he growls. 

You look up. It doesn’t seem like he’s been driving that long. You squint and peer around. This isn’t where you set off. There’s a dock but it’s much shorter. Behind it, just across a flat of land and behind a sparse row of trees, is a beach house. 

You glance at him in confusion. 

“Dad’s outta town for the week, isn’t he?” He clamps his hand around the back of your neck. “Too late to take you all the way back there.” 

You’re silent. You can’t argue. He’s right, you’re far from home, yet this doesn’t feel right. He never mentioned this. Never said you’d be staying out. Over night. 

“You finish me off and we’ll go get settled in,” he says. “I think you’re really gonna like the place.” 

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hii 💕💕💕

Tell me more about

- bad weather

- Buck grief breakdown with Phillip there

- ❤️🪐

Bad Weather is yet ANOTHER grief fic sdfghjk but not specifically a Buck breakdown so not listed as such. Concept: the summer after Bobby dies there are a bunch of unseasonable storms and Eddie is sleeping really badly but cant remember his dreams. Buck is doing bad and okay and bad and okay. They fight! They make up. They do chores at 3 am. Eddie finally admits he does remember what the dreams are about but Buck has kind of figured it out already (Eddie sleeps especially badly the nights it storms, maybe its conceited of buck to assume but its gotta be the lightning strike, right?) and they kiss about it. Here’s a little bit!

Part of the thing about insomnia is how goddamn boring it is. Torture, of such a mundane, shouldn’t-be-this-bad sort. Eddie lays in his bed as rain hits the roof and stares at the ceiling like if he looks hard enough he’ll evaporate the drops through the beams and shingles and thinks sleep, please sleep, please SLEEP as it feels like his eyeballs are lighting themselves on fire in protest of- all of this. He almost screams when he looks over at his alarm clock and another hour has crept by, silent and exhausting, and he can’t stay still and horizontal one more second.

Buck finds him in the bathroom, holding a caulk gun and looking, probably, deranged. He observes the bathtub, where Eddie is hunched but hasn’t actually done anything yet.

“You gotta clean that first,” he says, nodding to where tub meets tile and opening the high up cabinet where they keep cleaning supplies. “Or you’re just gonna trap mildew in.”

Already posted a bit of Phillip fic here ! Still kind of sorting it all out in my mind but yeah… want to explore an angry, sullen, not willing to deal with his issues but still overwhelmed by them Buck who’s purposefully avoiding his family to kind of stay in the mire of all these problems instead of moving past them, and who’s there in the pit with him but his own father who did this so hard for so long Buck didnt know he had a brother till he was 30. Not a recipe for success, maybe… but they’ll get somewhere I think….

[ghosty-bees]

hello octopath nation this is my third attempt at posting this because the formatting is being evil. my humble offering.

[barrenclan]

I love writing this comic

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Seeing magnetos big naturals in my twitter follower list while im in the commencement line like bro now is literally NOT the time can you do this later

[wackywatchdotcom]

something i genuinely adore about tadc is how painfully flawed everyone in the circus is. and not in a small way

everyone does SOMETHING that negatively impacts the others. but it makes the fact that you are supposed to sympathize with and really connect with them all the more potent. because its easy to want to put a bunch of characters in a bad situation together and to just have them all be nice to each other and everyone and never make mistakes because theres no reason to hurt each other, and most of them dont TRY to, but the way they cope is so, so realistic for each of their personalities, and it doesnt always mesh with the others, and sometimes it exceeds self destructive and Just Hurts Others, Too

they still generally care about each other and the mistakes they make and the ways they end up hurting each other dont lose their weight but like. it doesnt take away from their humanity and the fact that they are all trying so hard to manage in an awful situation

and the characters seem to have sooome sort of understanding of this too. not fully, because the characters dont tend to be 100% communicative, but when they hurt each other, it often makes EVERYONE uncomfortable. because these are the only people they have. these are their friends. and theyre all coping. but it doesnt change how much it affects them (best illustrated by ragathas lines at the start of ep 2 or gangles 'i love her, but after a while it gets kinda hard to tell how genuine shes actually being'). its not all like this, theres a good amnt of variety, but characters knowing this but not really knowing what to do about it is very painful in an effective way

(i think a subtle example of this is how zooble handles gangles situation in ep 4- they were so genuinely trying to help her because they care. but could tell as the day went on that oh, this is not working at all and its making things worse, and they leave gangle alone- something that very genuinely couldve been the moment she abstracted, because of the mask zooble gave her- and we dont get to have a super blatant explanation of zoobles thoughts on it, but they reach a fairly healthy conclusion about it that helps both of them, and i like that a lot, because on paper zooble could be placed at fault but the narrative doesnt dwell on it excessively, because thats not the point. i dont know if that tangent makes sense but i think about it sometimes. i think zooble wasnt 'to blame' but it was still a mistake, which is a hard balance to strike, and having them help at the end feels extremely effective at rounding it off!!!)

but like. in general its complicated balancing making characters in a bad situation act flawed because it can run the risk of seeming like the story is scolding them or blaming them for the situation theyre in, or like youre expected to not sympathize with them despite it (though the inverse also has complications- if characters in a bad situation never mess up, it feels unrealistic and hard to relate to, and can imply that their innocence is why whats happening to them is bad at all), but the show handles it so well

even the characters who are genuinely trying all try in different ways- some of them have similar outlooks or attitudes towards these thing but theres vital differences for ALL of them- sometimes it works and sometimes it doesnt. in fact some of the more painful mistakes characters have made in the show have come from them so genuinely trying (like the thing i mentioned w zooble, or basically Everything Ragatha Does, or pomnis first attempt at helping gangle, etc), which hits harder than if every mistake characters made had wholly selfish and cruel goals.

i mean, there is a selfishness to many of the characters' actions but imo not in a way thats not warranted. because all of them are in a horrible setting. its uncomfortable to watch characters be selfish. but it is a natural instinct to survive. its not the foundation of most of their actions, but when it is, its uncomfortable but hard to completely disparage them for in a way that makes you feel kinda conflicted

and like. it hurts to be doing your best and for that to make things worse, but its what happens often in the show. because no one in a bad situation is gonna handle it well. by the very nature of trying to survive something is gonna give, but it makes the themes of the show so much more powerful. that making sure the people around you dont feel unloved, cherishing them and finding meaning with others is no less important just because everyone is fucking up. it complicates things, for sure, but it doesnt make those characters exempt fromt this. theres a reason pomni tells gummigoo that she doesnt want "anyone" to feel like theyre nothing, and that kinger doesnt add ANY quallifiers to making sure people feel wanted and loved (not that i think either of them were thinking SUPER super hard, but it conveys smth from the perspective of the narrative

it gets complicated when you add in jax for sure, since i think on the surface he IS the exception to this concept- none of the characters like him, including pomni or kinger. but i think this is something thats gonna be examined further down the line, bc hes the main complicating factor in this reading of the show, but i feel like thats on purpose. hes universally disliked (and so is caine, in a different way) and his actions arent mistakes. they are him coping. the show has made it clear that he can be a complex person AND also a piece of shit. his actions dont detract from the fact that hes a person and the show reminds us of this. so it makes things so messy, but im genuinely super excited to see how the show examines that. where his character goes is, imo, going to be a massive piece of how this show fleshes out this concept

[coquelicoq]

quick little check-in on how my effort to get rid of books is going:

-5 books i gave to my siblings for christmas. i will probably end up replacing at least 2 if not all of them, but i'll cross that bridge if and when i come to it

+1 book i bought at the bookstore when i was supposed to be getting a present for my sister's boyfriend (it just looked so interestingggg)

(no change) 1 book i read so that i could get rid of it, but then i liked it too much to get rid of it

(no change) 1 book i reread to see if i still liked it enough to keep it. and i did

-3 books in a series that i put in a little free library in my neighborhood after rereading

+1 book i picked up from a different little free library on the same trip

-3 books i put in a little free library in the next neighborhood over in the dead of night because i was embarrassed about my marginalia

[guy who hasn't yet received a package of books currently on its way here voice] i'm actually doing much better than i expected! i've gotten rid of 11 books and only picked up 2 new ones. and one of those is a bilingual collection of rilke poems, with the original german facing the english translation. i do not read german, but i'm still not sure how i was supposed to pass that up. the other is nonfiction about the poetry of rap. also unclear if there was a way to resist it that i just didn't know about. really don't think i can be blamed for either of those.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Ough guys I'm hopping on the train in less than 2 days to move to a new city this is sooo fucked up what do you meannnn

[transgenderfivepebbles]

the expectation for the meaning of existence

[bughumbuger]

Go my swarm!!!!!! Doodles

[edwinisms]

pro tip if you want a positive fandom experience: do not follow confession blogs. you’re just asking for a bad time if you do that just don’t

[bucephaly]

Love having the desire to Do Shit but just no motivation or drive so im sitting here switching apps instead of doing anything meaningful

[lovesickvalentines]

everybody cheer my ex hard launched his new bf last night and i didn't have a complete meltdown guys are you proud of me.... erm....