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armpirate · 8 months ago

Text

Unspoken || Jungkook

pairing: Soldier!JK x fem!reader || Boyfriend's friend

w.c.: 9.3k

Warnings: smut, cheating, dirty talk, male masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 42 minutes

Summary: You thought you had a happy relationship with your boyfriend, you were convinced nothing would ever come between you two. At least until you first met Jungkook, Mingyu's friend and base partner, for a holiday break. His pull toward you was immediate, but also forbidden. Neither of you needed to express how you felt about each other, your attraction was unspoken. Although it'd only get out of control the second you both confessed how you felt about each other.

MASTERLIST

Jungkook leaned back against the passenger seat, the low hum of the car engine blending with the soft playlist his colleague, Mingyu, had playing on the stereo. It was a rare break from the structured chaos of military life, and Jungkook still wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up accepting Mingyu's invitation to spend the holidays at his place.

"You're gonna love it," Mingyu had said, grinning as he threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car earlier that morning. "Y/n makes the best holiday food, and the vibe's just... different. You'll see."

"Thanks again for inviting me" Jungkook said now, glancing over at Mingyu, whose focus was split between the road and his casual commentary about how cold it always got in their hometown during the holidays.

"No problem. Can't have you stuck at the base during break, eating pre-packaged trash. And besides, Y/n's been wanting to meet you forever. She loves hearing my stories about how I carried your butt during training," Mingyu teased.

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes. "Carried me? Right. You couldn't even..."

Mingyu's laughter cut him off, the kind that made it hard not to smile along. Despite their constant banter, Jungkook had always appreciated Mingyu's warmth. It was one of the things that had made him such a good friend, both on and off duty.

The car pulled up to a modest but inviting house tucked behind a line of bare trees, its porch lit with soft golden lights. Jungkook stepped out, his boots crunching against the icy driveway as he stretched. His breath curled into the cold air, and for a moment, he let himself soak in the quiet that only winter seemed to bring.

Jungkook followed him inside, shaking off the chill. The warmth of the house hit him immediately, carrying with it the smell of cinnamon and pine. He stepped into the living room, his gaze moving over the soft, glowing decorations scattered across shelves and windows. Then his eyes landed on you.

You weren't quite sure when your boyfriend would show up, but you were dying to see him. Despite how cold it was outside, you managed to put on his favorite outfit: a pair of shorts that barely cupped your ass and a thin top that he had always managed to take off easily.

The click of the door, heard from your room, almost had you jumping in excitement in your place, biting your lip before you finally chose to walk downstairs to meet him.

You were expecting your boyfriend, but not the man who was behind him. Mingyu was quite big, but those doe-eyed man's shoulders managed to oversize your boyfriend's.

Jungkook barely registered Mingyu's playful retort because, for a second, it felt like time had slowed. You were stunning, not just in the way you carried yourself, but in the ease of your smile and the warmth in your dark eyes. You weren't what Jungkook had expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he actually had bothered to imagine you.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming with someone?" it was your first question as you walked downstairs, closing the gap to slap your boyfriend's arm.

"It'd be better if I leave" Jungkook got cut off by you, big eyes looking at him over Mingyu's shoulder.

"No, I didn't mean that" you sighed. "It's just... this dickhead should've told me first. I'm Y/n".

"I know" he smiled, quickly nodding. "You're everything he talks about in the base".

And now Jungkook knew why.

"Let me guess... Jungkook?" you pointed at him, looking unsure, but at the same time knowing you were about to give the right answer.

"You got it right".

Your laugh was soft, but it resonated. "It's nice to finally meet you, Jungkook," you said, extending a hand.

Jungkook shook it, his palm warm against yours, while he noticed the distance you had built. Maybe it was that he just wanted to feel you closer, while you were keeping the safety of each other's personal space.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, his voice steady even as something in his chest stirred.

He told himself it was just nerves. Or maybe the exhaustion from months of routine, of walls and regulations. Whatever it was, he ignored it.

You were Mingyu's.

And Jungkook had no intention of complicating that.

But as the evening unfolded and conversation flowed freely between the three of you, he couldn't shake the strange pull he felt toward you. Every laugh you shared, every subtle gesture, seemed to light something within him. It was subtle, unspoken, but undeniably there.

Jungkook had told himself, over and over, throughout the months he dragged after knowing you that it was just a fleeting crush, a strange little inconvenience brought on by proximity and circumstance. But the more time passed, the more he realized he was lying to himself.

It didn't help that you weren't the kind of woman he could ignore. Every time Mingyu mentioned you in passing, with his face lighting up with affection, it made something twist uncomfortably in Jungkook's chest. He hated the feeling. Hated that his mind lingered on stolen glances and shared laughter from the few times he had seen you.

It was getting worse, though. Much worse.

You visited the base once, just over a month after the holidays, surprising Mingyu with homemade snacks and your bright, warm presence that seemed to brighten the cold halls of their quarters. Jungkook hadn't known you were coming, but the moment your laughter echoed down the hallway, he knew.

He was mid-conversation with another soldier when you appeared, walking beside Mingyu with a radiant smile and a bag slung over your shoulder. You looked out of place in the best way, soft in a world of hard lines and camouflage.

"Jungkook!" you called out when you spotted him, your hand lifting in a small wave.

He froze for a moment, the sound of your voice cutting through everything else. Forcing a smile, he raised a hand in return, his stomach twisting into a knot as you approached. He didn't expect you there, and even less looking so bright with that short flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh.

He needed you to hug him to finally realize he wasn't going crazy with his own thoughts.

"I didn't know you'd be here today," he said, his voice steady even as he fought to keep his expression neutral, stepping back to look you in the eyes.

"Surprise!" you beamed. "I couldn't let Mingyu go too long without something sweet to snack on. And I packed extra for you, too. Thought you might appreciate it."

Your kindness was as effortless as it was genuine. That was the worst part. You weren't trying to make his heart race or send him spiraling into feelings he didn't want. You were just... you.

"Thanks," Jungkook murmured, taking the small package you handed him. Your fingers brushed briefly, and he cursed the way his pulse quickened.

Mingyu, oblivious as always, grinned at the interaction. "See? Told you she's the best. You don't know how lucky I am"

Jungkook's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly, his gaze flicking to you, who was already chatting with another soldier nearby. "You're really lucky."

The rest of your visit was a blur of polite small talk and stolen glances that Jungkook wished he could erase from his memory. When you finally left, Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, talking about you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in the chaos of military life.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook felt like he was losing a battle he couldn't even admit he was fighting.

Each passing week only made it harder to ignore. Every time he caught himself thinking about you, he'd push the thoughts away, burying them under layers of duty and loyalty. But they always came back, stronger and more insistent, until it felt like he was carrying a weight he couldn't shake.

And the worst part was knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

If he thought it was going to be a temporary crush, he couldn't be more wrong. And what made the least sense for him was the way it kept growing bigger with the little he actually saw you. But hell, the little he saw you was enough to have a huge impact on his system and the way his brain worked to be wrapped around you.

If you wore a new gloss, it was enough for him to keep thinking about the way it'd taste on your lips if he kissed you. If you did something new to your hair, he kept coming up with ways of brushing the few strands that escaped your hairstyle and getting you to smile shyly. And the most simple thoughts turned into the most primitive when he was alone in his room, reminiscing of how your clothes always looked good on you. It only made him wonder how good what was underneath would look.

You were a nightmare and a dream at the same time. Something he couldn't reach, but something he couldn't escape either.

He needed it to get it to stop.

That was why he agreed when you came up with a blind date for him. Jungkook knew he should've said no the moment you brought it up, but his desperation to get you out of his head was bigger than his common sense.

"I have this friend," you had said, your eyes lighting up with the enthusiasm that always made his heart skip a beat. "She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. I think you two would really hit it off!"

He'd tried to decline politely, but you had a way of being insistent without overstepping. Before he knew it, he was sitting in a crowded cinema on a Friday night with someone he barely knew while you and Mingyu sat right next to them.

His date, Hana, was nice enough, chatty and kind, exactly as you had described. But Jungkook couldn't focus. Every smile she gave him, every laugh they shared over popcorn, felt hollow. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to the woman who had orchestrated this evening in the first place, the same woman who was sitting at his left, oblivious of how crazy you drove him.

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the movie, and the theater fell into a hushed silence. Jungkook shifted in his seat, trying to settle his restless thoughts, but the more he tried to focus on the screen, the harder it became.

It didn't help that your voice still lingered in his head, your laugh from earlier in the night replaying over and over.

He wasn't even aware of what he was doing at first. It was an unconscious movement he didn't quite control. His hand, resting on the armrest, slipped lower, brushing against your skirt where it met your thigh. It was an innocent gesture at first, or at least, he told himself it was. But as his fingers pressed just a fraction further, he felt the warmth of your skin, the soft fabric of your dress.

His breath hitched.

You tensed beside him, turning slightly. "Jungkook?" you whispered, your tone more confused than alarmed.

Realizing what he'd done, he immediately withdrew his hand, his heart pounding. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie. "I... hmm... I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

You offered a small, uncertain smile, brushing it off with a light shrug. "It's fine," you whispered back, your focus returning to the screen.

But Jungkook couldn't move past it. His stomach churned, guilt and shame twisting inside him. He hadn't mistaken you for Hana, not in the physical sense, at least. But in the darkness of the theater, his mind had wandered, and for a fleeting, selfish moment, he'd let his emotions take over.

He spent the rest of the movie barely moving, his body rigid as he counted down the minutes until the credits rolled. When the lights came up, you seemed as sweet and nice as always, as if that moment hadn't meant anything for you.

But Jungkook couldn't shake the weight of what had happened, or the realization that he was spiraling into feelings he had no business indulging.

Your concern for his happiness, your effort to set him up with someone, had only made things worse. You saw him as a friend, nothing more. And yet, his own desires had betrayed not only his loyalty to Mingyu but the respect he'd tried to maintain for you yourself.

As you exited the theater and Mingyu teased him about the "cute couple" they made, Jungkook forced a laugh, but inside, he felt like he was crumbling.

Something had to change.

Because if he didn't find a way to stop this, he knew it would destroy him, and everything he valued most.

Those were the only thoughts in his head while he stared at the ceiling that same night, trying to know what was the best way to put a solution to everything going on. Maybe it was time for him to stop his friendship with Mingyu and free himself from the pain and the trouble.

A sound broke through the silence. It wasn't loud, it was obvious he wasn't supposed to hear it, but it was followed by another sound that was heard clearer the second time. Your moans were soft and cautious, almost as if coming from the back of your throat by how hard you tried to keep them to yourself.

But he heard. Of course he heard it.

Jungkook didn't know when he disconnected, or more like when he allowed his brain to come up with images of you. But when he realized it was way too late and he liked it too much to stop it.

His fingers were closed around himself under the blankets, his eyes closed and his lips parted as the thought of him being the one getting those sounds out of you started being more powerful. Not only powerful, it was so vivid he could almost feel his digits pressing on your flesh to keep you in place, your warm breath on his neck while your fingers played with his hair. He twitched on the spot when he replaced the emptiness of his hand with warmth inside you. He was sure you'd take him well, knowing he was meant to be pounding into you instead of rubbing against his palm. He also knew he could make those moans sound louder, making you unable to control yourself, no matter who was in the next room. You'd be loud and desperate for him to let you reach your orgasm. He could even hear your whimpers against his ear, with your thin breath coating his lobe. Your nails would drag down his spine and your legs would close tight around his waist, because he knew you probably were the type to get so blinded by pleasure that you had no control over your body.

All of his muscles tensed when he pictured you reaching the climax, his toes almost curling by pleasure while he had to gulp the groan that almost interrupted your prolonged moan when you came, not wanting to cut how good you sounded.

If you ever said his name with that same needy tone, he knew he'd cum at the first letter you pronounced.

Reality hit him again when he blinked in the darkness, realizing he fell back again into the same course he promised he wouldn't follow a few weeks back. Without making a sound, he got out of his room to clean himself up.

Right when he was just coming out of the bathroom, you were walking through the corridor, coming back from the stairs. Your cheeks were a pale read, your eyes big and still dark, your hair messy, but that same friendly smile remained.

"How was the date? Did you like Hana?" your eyebrows raised with curiosity. "She's nice, right?"

But Jungkook didn't care about how nice Hana was. He didn't care whether they'd make a cute couple or not, because the only thing in his head at that moment was the idea of you asking that because you were minimally jealous, and not because you were genuinely hoping something would come out of that blind date.

"I... I don't think so" Jungkook grimaced, avoiding your eyes.

"Aw really?" you almost pouted. "Why not?"

It was his chance, or so he thought. For once he didn't let his consciousness get in between what he wanted, he didn't allow caution to stop him from taking the chance you were offering.

He pulled you in the bathroom, closing the door right behind you before cornering you against it. You couldn't help but hear your heartbeat against your eardrums, slowly taking you away from reality, leaving you deaf to anything that wasn't Jungkook's voice.

"If I tell you 'why not', I'm afraid we'll have a big problem" he admitted, his hand slowly raising up to your head level.

Your tongue moved through your lips, but it stayed as dry while his eyes pushed you to do the craziest things that came to mind "Jungkook, I..."

"Don't say my name" he cut you off. "Don't say my name or I'll lose control of myself, and I promise you there will be no turning back".

What were you supposed to say? No words were able to come out of your lips. What was he expecting you to say?

"I didn't like Hana because I kept thinking how your lips would still taste sweet, even after the popcorn you were eating. I didn't get confused and touch you when I wanted to touch Hana. I wanted to touch you, at least know what it felt like. I'm going crazier every day for you, and I don't know how much I'll take it".

"I'm with Mingyu" you confronted.

You used those words, hoping they'd work for Jungkook the same way they worked for you. But they had no effect on him.

Your sentence seemed like a lame excuse to stop yourself. It wasn't a straight 'no' because you were sure of your decision. It was a weak excuse to get to know whether that mattered to him as little as it started to matter for you since you first met Jungkook.

"I know" he scoffed, "of course I know" his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to be in his place tonight. Just the thought of having you around me has kept me satisfied for a while, but tonight... Fuck, tonight I realized how much I need that to stop being a thought and be a reality".

You hated the way your body reacted to his words, but you hated even more how he didn't need those words to make you feel the way you did.

"I..." you were so close to succumbing, so close to ruin it all. "No".

It was the only word you could pronounce, the only word that wouldn't hint at how indecisive you actually were and wouldn't expose your shaky and unsure tone before you pushed him away.

It would be a mistake. A big one. And you couldn't do that to Mingyu, not to yourself. You were better than all that.

Your heart stopped when he paused your steps before you could reach the door to your room, forcing you to turn around and face him, before you were back against a wall.

Jungkook was aware of the way you looked at him before you stepped out of the bathroom, and seeing you under Mingyu's t-shirt pushed him to fire the last bullet. The only thought was how possessive he felt of you when he noticed you were wearing his military t-shirt, another detail reminding him you weren't his.

He would regret it the next day but, at least, it was something he'd get out of his chest.

He kissed you.

His hands were cupping your cheeks while his lips moved slowly on yours. For a moment, that was the only thing that mattered. It wasn't the way you both knew each other, or the circumstances... you could only feel him.

Your fingers tugged on his t-shirt on his waist, too unsure to pull him closer, but too needy to let go. His lips felt different, like he was familiar with you despite not kissing you before. He treated you with such care while showing off how much he craved you, that you thought it couldn't be real.

You gasped when his tongue slid through your lips, finding yours, barely touching before you broke the kiss again after hearing your boyfriend calling you from inside the room.

You felt so guilty because of how much you liked it, and you also felt guilty because you couldn't give Jungkook what he wanted.

What had you done?

He knew, by the way you looked at him as you walked back to the room, that there was no point in trying, because Mingyu would always be your choice.

The airport was buzzing with life, a constant ebb and flow of people coming and going. You stood just outside the arrival gate, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if the gesture alone could shield you from the nervousness to take a toll on your sanity.

You didn't want to be there. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

When Mingyu had asked you to pick Jungkook up, the instinctive response had been a hard no. But you'd hesitated, your heart betraying your mind. You hadn't seen him in weeks, not since that night, when everything got out of control between you two.

Actually, he set a whole ocean in between you when he left for a special mission in another country. Yet, that distance only made him more present in your life. Your head could only wonder whether he was alright, because whenever you asked Mingyu, he never had enough information that could help you to go on.

During those moments, you regretted only kissing him once.

The memory was still vivid, a flash of heat and regret tangled together in a kiss that should never have happened. He'd kissed you as if he'd been holding back for far too long, and the way your body had responded, the way your heart had raced, made it all more dangerous, because you couldn't remember reacting that same way with your boyfriend -not even when you started dating.

But you had returned to him that same night, guilt pressing heavy on your chest, and Jungkook had pulled away, physically, emotionally, entirely.

The distance he'd created had been suffocating. You'd told yourself it was for the best, that you two needed it. And yet, when Mingyu asked you to help out this once, your excuses had faltered.

Deep down, you wanted to see him.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you suspected Jungkook felt the same.

Your thoughts scattered when the sliding doors opened, and Jungkook emerged, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was tousled from the long flight, his jaw set with the faintest tension, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on you.

"Y/n," he greeted, his voice low, almost hesitant.

"Jungkook," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hum of the airport surrounded you, but it felt distant, like you were suspended in your own little bubble of awkward silence and unresolved tension.

"You didn't have to come," he finally said, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder.

"Mingyu asked me to," you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

It was an excuse that you didn't believe yourself.

Your boyfriend asked you to, but you could've said no. You could've used work as an excuse not to be there, and you knew your boyfriend would've taken it.

You sighed, your posture relaxing slightly. "But... I didn't mind."

That last part slipped out before you could stop it, and Jungkook's eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place. Relief, hope... you didn't know, but it was positive.

"Let's go," you added quickly, turning on your heel and heading toward the exit.

The walk to the car was quiet, the tension between you palpable. You unlocked the doors, and both climbed in, the faint smell of pine from your air freshener filling the silence.

"How has it been?" you managed to ask.

He grimaced, his expression unsure while he twitched on his seat "It was... okay. Let's say the noise these few weeks have kept me distracted. Some thoughts are way louder and disturbing" he admitted, his tattooed arm resting next to the window.

It didn't take much for you to know what he was hinting at. Any hopes you had to be able to ignore what happened between you two, vanished when he confessed he felt as disturbed as you did.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, the words you'd been holding back tumbled out. "Why did you do it?"

Jungkook turned to you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"You know what," you said, gripping the wheel tightly. "The kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I couldn't keep pretending," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't keep acting like I didn't feel something for you. Like I didn't..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know what happened that night, but I felt like I needed to do it. After so much time, it just felt right".

Your chest tightened. You didn't know what you'd expected, but his honesty left you breathless.

"You didn't say anything after," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought it was better that way," he replied. "You went back to Mingyu, and I knew I had no right to... to want anything more. That's why I volunteered for this new mission. It was better than staying here."

Your grip on the wheel faltered for a moment, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You swallowed hard, focusing on the road.

"So you don't regret it?" you managed to ask.

"Do you?" he questioned immediately after, eyes narrowing while trying to read through your body language.

A scoff introduced your reply before you spoke "I asked first".

"No".

The car fell silent again, but this time, the quiet wasn't as heavy. There was something unspoken between you, something you both knew couldn't be resolved in one drive.

The ride had grown quieter, but the tension between you buzzed like static in the air. You couldn't focus, your hands gripping the steering wheel as your thoughts ran in circles around Jungkook's answer.

It lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Did you actually regret that kiss?

When you reached the mall parking lot, a stop you'd insisted on under the guise of needing to grab something, you parked the car and let out a long breath.

"You don't have to come in," you said, your voice clipped.

"I don't mind," Jungkook replied casually, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

Of course he wouldn't stay in the car. He would never make things easy for you.

The two of you walked through the glass doors of the mall, the buzz of activity offering a welcome distraction. You kept your focus on the shops ahead, determined to ignore the way Jungkook's presence seemed to fill the space beside you.

"What do you need here?" he asked, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as you strolled past storefronts.

"Just... something for Mingyu," you lied, thinking that bringing up his name would work as a stop for the two of you

"Hmm," he hummed while nodding slowly, his tone unreadable.

You stopped in front of a small boutique, pretending to be interested in the display of watches in the window. But your focus shattered when you felt Jungkook lean in, his voice low near your ear, the warmth of his chest almost hitting your back.

"Why are you avoiding looking at me?"

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back, glaring at him. "I'm not avoiding you."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, one that sent a shiver down your spine. "You are," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the entrance of the store, but before you could take another step, Jungkook caught your wrist.

"Y/n," he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.

You turned reluctantly to face him, your heart pounding. Thinking you'd look stronger, you ended up feeling smaller.

"What?" you snapped, though the bite in your voice was weak.

His dark eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you forgot where you were. The bustling mall around you faded, leaving just the two of you in the small pocket of space they occupied.

"I'm going to make you want me," Jungkook said, his tone calm but resolute.

"W... What?"

"These days I've been away... I made the decision that I wouldn't give up on you" he confessed. "I tried, but it didn't work out, because I know you want me as much as I want you, you just need something to help you realize".

Your lips parted, a mix of shock and defiance flashing across your face. "Jungkook, stop."

"I mean it," he continued, stepping just close enough to make your breath catch. "You can keep pretending this doesn't exist, but you feel it just as much as I do."

Your pulse quickened, heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad... But I'll let you be the one taking the lead the next time".

"I'm with Mingyu," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It didn't stop sounding like a momentary stop, instead of a determined rejection. It was an excuse that kept giving him hints on how you felt. Not by the words, but the tone and weak look in your eyes.

"And I hate that I'm saying this while you are," he admitted, his gaze softening. "But it doesn't change how I feel. And I know it doesn't change how you feel."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. "You don't know how I feel."

"You're right, I don't" he countered, his tone firm. "But one thing for sure: you were waiting for that kiss as much as I did. You keep waiting for me to kiss you, I bet you're dying for me to do it right now" he continued. "Next time we kiss though... I doubt I'll be able to go on with just that".

You shook your head, breaking eye contact as you turned away. "Don't waste your time. Nothing is going to happen"

He didn't follow you this time, letting you walk ahead into the store. But as you browsed aimlessly, his words echoed in your mind, each one carving deeper into the walls you'd tried to build between you two.

It wasn't simple. It never could be.

The party was alive with music and chatter, the kind of event where everyone seemed carefree, wrapped up in their own little bubbles of fun, laughs and alcohol. You, however, felt far from carefree.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor with Mingyu, his arm draped possessively over your shoulder as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You tried to smile, to play the role of the attentive girlfriend, but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the man standing across the room.

Jungkook.

He looked effortlessly handsome in his black button-up, the top few buttons undone to reveal just enough of his tanned skin to make heads turn. He leaned casually against the bar, a drink in his hand, his gaze flicking toward you every so often. You tried not to look at him, but the pull was magnetic, impossible to resist.

It was as if having him so far from you only helped to pull you closer. And that was what happened the whole night. Jungkook didn't walk around you, even Mingyu was surprised by the distance he had settled, although he shrugged it off thinking his friend was just out to get on with someone.

If he only knew...

The tension between you two had been unbearable ever since the airport.Thinking it couldn't get any worse than the day after your first kiss, you were proved wrong. The unresolved words, the unspoken confessions... they lingered like ghosts in every glance you shared. And tonight, it felt as though the air crackled with it, threatening to ignite at any moment.

You adjusted the hem of your dress, a sleek black number that clung to your figure in all the right places. You thought it was Mingyu's gift when it arrived at your apartment, complete with a note that read, Can't wait to take it off tonight.

But when you'd mentioned it to him earlier, Mingyu had laughed. "I can't wait to take off any clothes you're wearing, to be honest. But, especially, this new dress. You have such a good taste" he'd said casually.

It was then you realized.

The handwriting on the note wasn't Mingyu's, but it wasn't like you cared enough to realize. You wanted it so bad to be your boyfriend's, that you ignored all the details.

The realization had sent a ripple of unease through you, but it wasn't enough to stop you from wearing it.

Jungkook's gaze darkened every time it landed on you, his jaw clenching as he watched you laugh at something Mingyu whispered in your ear. You weren't immune to his jealousy, but instead of feeling guilty, it fueled something in you, a twisted desire to test his limits.

So when Mingyu kissed you, you let him.

The kiss was long and slow, a public display that left no room for doubt about your relationship. Your hands trailed up Mingyu's chest, and though your mind wasn't fully in the moment, you didn't stop yourself. Even your boyfriend was surprised by how touchy you were being.

When you dared to peek through half-lidded eyes, you saw Jungkook. His knuckles whitened around his glass before he abruptly turned away.

It was petty, and you knew it. But it didn't stop you from feeling a small, vindictive thrill.

Jungkook didn't stay by the bar for long. When you glanced over again, he was on the dance floor, a striking brunette by his side. She was tall, confident, her hand sliding along his chest as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Your stomach twisted, the sight of them together setting your nerves on fire. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Mingyu and the party, but your eyes betrayed you, following Jungkook as he danced with the woman.

He didn't look at you, not once. It was as if he'd decided to pretend you didn't exist.

And yet, every move he made felt deliberate. The way he leaned into the brunette's touch, the way he let her lips graze his ear, all of it was meant to taunt you.

It was working.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy that you couldn't suppress, your grip tightening around your drink. Mingyu noticed, pulling your attention back to him with a soft smile.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a little warm in here."

Mingyu didn't seem convinced, but he let it go, turning back to his conversation.

You, however, couldn't let it go. Your gaze found Jungkook again, and this time, he was looking back. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

His expression was unreadable, but his message was clear.

Two can play this game.

Your heart pounded, and you hated the way it thrilled you. The way his attention, whether born of anger or jealousy, still managed to consume you entirely.

The game was far from over, but you weren't sure who would come out the winner, or if winning even mattered anymore.

The pounding bass of the music reverberated through the walls, muffled and distant in the small confines of the bathroom. You leaned against the sink, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Your lipstick was still flawless, your dress clinging to you like a second skin.

You should've felt guilty for what you were about to do. You really should've.

But the fire in your chest, the jealousy that had flared every time you saw him with that brunette on the dance floor, had burned through your restraint.

The door clicked open behind you, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room before he even said a word. You didn't let him take one step forward when you pushed him back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you two.

"You shouldn't be in here," Jungkook said, his voice low, his tone carrying that familiar edge of frustration.

"So, do you want me to leave?" you replied, turning to face him with a small, taunting smile.

He looked at you, his dark eyes searching, confused by your calm demeanor. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his posture stiff as he leaned back against the closed door.

"You've been playing games all night," you said, taking a slow step toward him. "Dancing with her. Ignoring me. Acting like you don't care when we both know you do."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

You took another step, the sound of your heels clicking against the tile floor. "You said you'd make me want you," you murmured, stopping just inches from him. "So why aren't you trying harder?"

He exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up. "Didn't you tell me to leave you alone?"

"Right after I told you, you said you'd make sure I wanted you" your head tilted, the tip of your fingers gently brushing against the exposed tattoos on his arm.

"You don't know what you're asking for"

"Don't I?" you asked, tilting your head. Your fingers trailed up his chest, over the smooth fabric of his shirt, until they rested just over his racing heartbeat.

His hand shot up, catching your wrist, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his grip tightened, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"You seem to be a little too much into what I'm doing" he snapped back at you, though his voice lacked the confidence.

"Don't come up with that" you countered, your lips curving into a sly smile. "Don't act like you haven't been looking at me, dying to touch me all night."

The tension snapped like a live wire.

Jungkook let go of your wrist, only to grab your waist, pulling your flush against him. "You're really pushing me, Y/n," he said through gritted teeth, his breath warm against your face.

"Maybe I want to see how far you'll go," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.

His resolve crumbled in an instant.

Your lips crashed together, the kiss hungry and frenzied, months of pent-up desire pouring out in every movement. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, sliding down the curve of your back as if he couldn't get enough.

You matched his intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your back hitting the door when he made the both of you turn. The cool wood contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're going to regret this," Jungkook murmured against your lips, though his actions said otherwise.

"Then give me something to regret," you shot back, your voice breathless.

For a moment, time ceased to exist. There was only the sound of your breathing, the faint thrum of music beyond the door, and the way you fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting far too long to connect.

His smirk only disappeared when he kissed you back again, pressing his body against yours, not wanting to let a single centimeter ruin the experience of feeling you against his body. It was like his dreams were coming true whenever your fingertips brushed the back of his hair every time your tongues touched.

But reality was never far behind.

A loud knock on the door startled you both, and you pulled back, your chest heaving. Jungkook's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Occupied!" he called out, his voice rough.

You laughed softly, the sound almost bitter. You straightened your dress, smoothing out the fabric cupping his cheeks again. Your tongue traced his upper lip, instantly getting him to lick it as a response before Jungkook tried to pull you for another kiss.

"You won't be taking this dress off tonight" you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Really?" Jungkook challenged, his gaze piercing as he looked at you.

Your resolve wavered, but you forced yourself to turn away, your hand on the door handle. "Really"

As you stepped out into the chaos of the party, your heart pounded in your chest, your body still buzzing with the memory of his touch.

The door closed behind you, the sound reverberating through the small entryway of Jungkook's apartment. He kept looking at you concerned. When he heard you through the phone, he knew something was off, but now that he was seeing the state you were in, he knew it was worse than he could imagine.

"Y/n?" he asked,getting your attention, your face flushed and eyes blazing. "What happened? Why are you here so late?"

You didn't answer right away, your fists clenching at your sides as you struggled to find the right words. The argument with Mingyu was still fresh, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

"Why do you keep doing this?" you finally demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts anger and frustration.

Jungkook frowned, stepping back at that attack. "Doing what?"

"You," you spat, pointing at him. "You're always there, always watching, always... lingering in the back of my mind. Do you have any idea what it's doing to me?"

His confusion shifted into something more guarded, his shoulders tensing. "I think you need to calm down," he said carefully.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "I just had the worst fight with Mingyu, and you know what? It wasn't even about him. It was about you."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I was mad because he's leaving again, he's leaving me alone for another mission, another stretch of time where I have to sit and wait and pretend like I'm okay with it." your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "But I wasn't yelling at him because of that. Do you know what I was thinking instead of worrying because he won't be with me?" you stopped, your gaze attacking him. "I was fucking glad he is leaving. Do you even realize what this means? I'm the worst girlfriend ever. No matter how much I try, I can't get you out of my head. You're there all the damn time with any reason".

Jungkook's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his gaze searching for yours.

He knew Mingyu was leaving. They both discussed it before he finally made the decision. He even remembered the way his friend tried to find out the way to tell you, yet all he could think of was how there would be nothing on the way for him.

"I hate it," you whispered, your voice softening as the anger gave way to something more fragile. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. That when I'm with him, it's your face I see. That this... whatever this is between us, it's ruining me."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"You think it's easy for me?" Jungkook said finally, his voice rough. "You think I don't feel the same way? That every time I see you with him, it doesn't tear me apart?"

You flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show.

"I didn't ask for this, Y/n," he continued, stepping closer to you. "I didn't ask to feel this way about someone I can't have. But here we are. I also hate not being able to look Mingyu in the eyes because all I can think about is his girlfriend. Or how, instead of telling him not to go, I wanted to encourage him to leave".

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides as though he were trying to hold himself back.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. "Why now?"

There was a brief silence, realizing with his question you had no business there. Why were you there?

"I don't know," you admitted, your eyes glistening. "I just... I needed to see you."

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"I know" you whispered, your voice breaking.

And then, as though drawn by an invisible force, you both moved at the same time. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him toward you as his arms wrapped around your waist. Your lips met in a clash of desperation and need, a release of all the emotions you'd been bottling up for so long.

The kiss was messy, frantic, and utterly consuming, neither of you caring about the consequences for the first time.

In a mini second his hands were everywhere they could reach, making your whole body squirm when he cupped your ass with his palms. It was fast, need hitting you two like a truck, barely giving you time to settle what was happening before you were getting rid of each other's clothes.

His tattooed fingers moved down your neck, in between your breasts, feeling your rushed heartbeat against his palm. He could sense you felt the same way he did, but you'd been too stubborn to admit it.

He kept moving down, the heat of your skin raising with every soft touch of his digits, your legs slightly parting when he attempted to slide through your folds. His groan made you throb against the tips, causing his breathing to become heavier.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" he asked with a thin voice, slowly starting to rub your clit in circles.

"I love it" you admitted. Your hand traced his packed chest, going down his marked abs until you moved past his v line "I kept thinking about being with you like this since you first kissed me".

You didn't know, but those words worked like a switch for Jungkook. Hearing from your lips how you were into him as much as he was into you was the little he needed to lose every bit of sanity.

Before your fingers could reach his dick, he pulled you for another kiss. His rough hands went straight to your ass, cupping your cheeks so he could lift your body and have your legs around his waist.

Jungkook didn't take you to the room, he didn't want to waste another second without being linked to you, he had wasted too much time already. You gasped again when your back collided against the wall.

His lips trapped you in an unknown world you didn't know could be so pleasuring. Usually, it was always just about Jungkook. But that night it was all about Jungkook, his taste, his gaze, the way his tongue worshiped your body like he wanted to know and memorize what every bit of you tasted like.

Your body arched for him when he closed his lips around your hard nipple, moving his lips and tongue like he was actually devouring you. You hadn't ever done it, but you were sure you'd be able to cum by the way he was only sucking you.

"Please, Jungkook" you muttered, your fingers getting lost in his strands of hair.

"Ask me" he demanded. "I've been imagining those words for way too long, I need to hear them".

"Fuck me" you asked, looking into his eyes. "Make me regret taking so long to do this"

"You're mine, Y/n," he growled, his eyes darkening, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You didn't respond, but the passion and hunger simmering within you made it clear that you knew a part of you belonged to him before you could admit it.

He reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair, and tugged your head back, exposing your neck. His lips found the delicate skin below your ear, and he nipped and sucked, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He leaned in, his eyes blazing with possessive desire, and his lips crushed against yours again, with a hunger that set fire to the pit of your stomach. His tongue delved deep, exploring every hidden crevice of your mouth, whilst his hands clutched at your body, gripping you tightly. That kiss only worked to drown the moan in your mouth as he slowly slid inside you, trying to memorize the feeling, to feel every millimeter in your channel get adjusted to him.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his. It was slow at first, with the two of you wanting to get a taste of what you'd been craving, but were too stubborn to admit. But slowly, the intensity started getting the best of you, his digits denting on your skin as he angled his hips to rock them against you.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans and sighs echoing in the room as you reached for your release. Jungkook's dirty talk fueled your desire, and you eagerly met his thrusts, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that only intensified their pleasure.

"Oh, god, Jungkook," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust harder.

"You like that, don't you?" Jungkook asked, his voice strained with desire. "You like feeling my cock inside you? Hmm? Fucking you like this?"

As you moved together, you found yourself lost in the moment. You had never felt this alive, this desired. Jungkook's dirty talk only added to the experience, his words making you wetter and more eager for him. Every time you thought you couldn't be more into him, he always did something that proved it was only the beginning.

"Yes, Jungkook, harder," Y/n begged, your voice filled with need.

He bent down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently. You arched your back again, your hands tangled in Jungkook's hair as you urged him on.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Jungkook sensed it too, because he started pounding into you even harder. The loud dry claps of your bodies echoing through the silence of the room.

"Are you going to cum for me? Do it, baby" his forehead was resting against yours. "I'm going to cum inside you, Y/n. I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

With a loud cry, you came, your pussy clenching around Jungkook's cock. Jungkook followed soon after, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with his cum, staying like that for a few moments, panting and trying to catch their breath, hoping common sense wouldn't hit you and make you regret what had just happened.

Jungkook slowly pulled out of you, moving his hips back while his hands still carried you. You looked up at him all the way through it, your eyes filled with something else that wasn't regret, yet he couldn't quite decipher what it was. You leaned in and kissed him again.

Although that kiss only meant the night wasn't ending there.

And it didn't.

You laid on top of Jungkook, your long hair cascading down your back as you moved your hips up and down, grinding your pussy against his cock. Your perky breasts bounced with each movement, and Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you, hypnotized by the way your body moved. He reached up and cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples as you moaned with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, throwing your head back as you rode him harder. "Your cock feels so good"

Jungkook smirked, reaching down to spank your ass. "I love how your your tight little pussy takes me so well"

You moaned, biting your bottom lip as you nodded. "Hmm yes"

"Just like that... Show me how bad you want it" as time passed by, he sank deeper on the couch.

Just then, Jungkook's phone started ringing. You paused, looking up at him with a confused expression when he froze for a moment.

You were too drunk with pleasure to think of any possibility that wasn't distracting him from it, your lips moving quick to his neck.

"Who is it?" you asked.

Jungkook reached for his phone, but he didn't answer it. Mingyu had sent him countless messages, he had called a few times, and he knew the reason why was in front of him. He looked at you, knowing the second he mentioned your boyfriend, it all would stop.

He tossed it aside and focused on you, his hands on your hips as he thrust up into you.

"Who fucking cares" he moved forward, hiding his face on your neck. "You're so fucking hot, Y/n," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I could fuck you all day long."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Jungkook grinned, his hands on your hips as he guided your movements. He loved how wild and uninhibited you were in bed, how you weren't afraid to take charge and ride him hard. Hell, you were the best fantasy he had ever had, and he finally had you.

"That's right, baby, ride my cock," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "You do it so well"

You nodded, unable to speak as you focused on the delicious sensation of Jungkook's cock filling you up. You could feel yourself getting close to orgasm, your muscles clenching around him as you rode him harder and faster. The claps of your bodies turning into splashes due to your sticky skin covered in sweat and his load mixed with your juices leaking out of you.

He reached down between you, teasing your clit with his fingers as you moaned into his mouth. You started moving your hips again, grinding against him as you chased your orgasm again.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, breaking the kiss as you threw your head back. "I'm so close. Don't stop". Your nails digged on his skin, all the muscles in your body tensing "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm almost there, Jungkook, I'm almost there."

Jungkook grinned, gripping your hips as he slammed up into you harder. "That's right, baby. Come for me. I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Jungkook didn't need any more encouragement. He thrust up into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he came hard. You followed him over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as you screamed out your own orgasm while your nails dug into his chest. Jungkook grunted, following you over the edge as he filled you with his cum.

It didn't hit you after the climax, not even after you showered and dressed yourself. It hit you when you walked to the door and he kissed you one last time, with such delicacy and care that you couldn't believe it was the same man you were begging to.

His steps were careful, pinning you against the wall again while cupping your cheeks.

You weren't quite sure what you wanted to do, but one thing for sure: you couldn't let go of Jungkook so easily after that night.

#armpirate #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #reader insert #one shot #jungkooksmut #jksmut #jk smut #boyfriendsfriend!au

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tsuutarr · 10 months ago

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Yandere!childhood friend x reader

“Hey, can I talk to you?” a classmate in one of your university classes calls out. He’s blushing, looking completely flustered. You’d have found it cute, really, but there are several factors that make you want to groan.

One, you’re not in a good mood right now. And two–

“You’re friends with that pretty girl, right? Jieun? Uhm. Can I get her number?”

He’s not confessing to you.

You bite back a sigh. “Look, I can’t just give out my friend’s number like that–”

“But–”

“Darling!” you’re interrupted as someone clings onto your arm. They intertwine their fingers with yours, giving your classmate an icy smile. “I’m so sorry, but we have plans.”

“Oh, t–that’s fine!” your classmate exclaims, voice cracking. He looks at your friend, completely enamored. “But, uh, can I get your–”

Before your classmate can finish his sentence, your friend has already dragged you away.

Soon, you’re seated in a cute coffee shop your friend had found earlier that week.

“I can’t believe that guy was confessing to you,” your friend scoffs, taking a sip of their matcha latte. “You’re so out of his league.”

“He was actually asking me for your number,” you respond, making your friend’s eyes widen.

“Me?” There’s genuine surprise on your friend’s face as they clasp their manicured hands. “Well, I suppose my makeup skills are pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s always surprising that you can go from Jiu to Jieun and back so easily.”

And you mean it – your childhood friend, Jiu Oh, has built up his life as his father’s perfect son. Yet, at the same time, he has a secondary identity – Jieun – that he uses whenever he wants to indulge in cute things and fashion, things his father thinks no man should ever have an interest in.

“It’s pretty fun,” Jiu hums, twirling a long strand of his pink wig on his finger. His pretty lips stretch into a smile. “You should let me doll you up sometime, too. Only if you want to, though. You’re already beautiful as you are.”

You give him a bitter smile, a sigh leaving your lips. “If only my ex-boyfriend thought that, too…”

Jiu gasps. “You guys broke up?”

“Yeah.” With a few taps of your phone, you pull up the chat between you and another friend. There, right on the screen, is your ex-boyfriend on a date with a blonde woman.

“I can’t believe it. He cheated on you?” Jiu looks at you, his perfectly styled eyebrows furrowed. “I knew he was trash.”

“Yeah, you were right. I guess I just…” your voice drops to a whisper, making Jiu gently hold your hand.

“Aw, darling – it’s not your fault. It’s that trash’s fault for cheating on you.” Gently, he gives your hand a soft squeeze. “How about we hang out tonight? To take your mind off of things? We can watch your favorite movies and bake something? And I’ll do your nails!”

“...You know what, yeah. That sounds good,” you agree, feeling lighter. Time spent with Jiu is always fun, after all.

“Wonderful! I’ll prepare everything and text you when I’m ready!” Jiu grins. “Ooh, you’ll love the new bath bomb I got!”

His enthusiasm is infectious and you can’t help but smile. Yeah, who cares about your shitty ex when you have a great friend like Jiu?

What you don’t know, though, is that the blonde woman in the photo is Jiu. He had carefully orchestrated everything so that you’d break up with your boyfriend.

You also don’t know that he has tabs on you at all times – whether it’s by your phone or the people around you. You don’t know that the whole reason you got into your university in the first place is because of Jiu.

Jiu’s control over your life extends even beyond that, too. It’s impossible to know the full extent of the control he has over your life and maybe you never will – not when you’re his, anyway.

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #male yandere #tsuuper ocs #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc #2024 yan/monstertober tsuutarr #Jiu Oh Tsuu OC #I LOVE JIU...........#for more context: his dad is the CEO of a electronic company (think samsung idk) so Jiu is rich rich

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saphirafoxgirlspost1 · 8 months ago

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(Open Rp) Journey to the west Christmas Story in "Icy Journey to the west of Love"

On the Day of Christmas Eve, It's been 2 months Ever Since Saphira's Beloved daughter's death and Saphira Is Still Furious at "Soon-to-be-Ex-Fiancé " Name "Prince Daniel Jamerson Rooster" Who Was Still Obsessing of Having a Son but He Pitch a Fit over NOT Having a Son and Being Abusive towards Saphira and made Their daughter a Stillborn. Then Daniel wanted to talk to her but Saphira snarled At him with Rage and Telling him this is all his Fault for being a Bad Father and a Horrible Fiancé To her and Their daughter And then she told him to not Talk to her at all because of what he had Done to Her and Their Daughter, He backed off and rubbing his Now Bruised and Cut hands because His father King Rooster Gave Him and His hands a beating after He found out what His Son had Done to Saphira and His Granddaughter. Saphira Maybe a Forgiving Person but She has her Limit, and by limit I mean a Serious Line That Daniel Completely Crossed it and It would never be Uncross at all. Then After Hour of being Ignored, Daniel went ballistic and yelling at Saphira For Ignoring him but She reminded him Of What he has done to His Own Flesh and blood and How Horrible and a big failure he is as a Man and a Father all because of His Stupid Obsession of Having a Son and then Daniel went outburst, trashing the whole Christmas stuff and throwing tantrums like a 2 year old, Demanding that He wanted a son alot so much it made Saphira and his parents and her parents went into shock. Then He grabbed Saphira's First Gift of Christmas is the beautiful Silver Reindeer bell and he tried to destroy it many times but It was Protected by Magic which made saphira very angry at Daniel throwing a fit like a 3 year old until His father Bellowed in anger which made Daniel stopped and backed off when he said,

King Rooster: "DANIEL JAMERSON ROOSTER!!!, STOP THIS CHILDISH BEHAVIOR RIGHT THIS MINUTE! How DARE you Ruining this Christmas in this kingdom of sakutopia!? Have you no shame!? Your mother and I didn't raise you to act like this! Haven't you realized that it was YOUR Fault that you Killed your daughter because of your Stupid Obsession of having a son?!"

Daniel: " But Father, I wanted the son So much so he can take over my throne as well.."

King Rooster: " Oh? And why is that, I demand to know!"

Then Saph came in and said,

Saph: "I know Someone Who Can answer that! Guards! Bring her Here!"

Then the Guards Dragged Barbra Minx who is Now all beat up and bruised which made Daniel went pale Like a ghost and saphira knew something was up…and she said,

Saph: "Alright Minx, I want you to tell them the reason why Daniel wanted a Son in the first place and you better use words carefully now.."

Saphira's Voice turns Cold and Haunted that made Barbra's Spine shivers as Barbra began to speak,

Barbra Minx: " He told me the reason why he wanted a son is because he wanted to run away with me with a son..so he can take over both sakutopia and Shintari..and I wanted a son too but i'm infertile.. So he Planned to marry saphira and had a son so he can run away with me and take her son and took over other kingdom.."

Her confession made everyone shocked and enrage as Daniels Father Looked at His son with rage and fury, Then Before Daniel Speak His Father Slapped him So hard that Daniel tumble and fell backwards with his hand on his now swelling cheeks and His father said,

King Rooster: " WHAT… WERE…. YOU… THINKING!? You Cause the Treason against the Sakutopia Kingdom and Not only you ruined christmas but You Ruined and Tarnished The Good Name of This Family! Oh, I'm Going to give you a Beatings of the life time when i'm Done with you I-"

Then Saphira Raise her hand to stop His Father and she said,

Saph:" Not So Fast Your majesty, I have a good Proper Punishment For These two and I think you can leave the Punishment to me. For You, Daniel Shall Be Punished By Sterilizing your "Manhood" so that way No Children can be born with Such a Horrible BEAST like you and your arms and Legs be chopped off so that way you don't Lay hands on anyone Nor kicking or running away again..just like you did to me and my daughter.. and Barbra Minx you shall be punished as well 10 lashes and 3 more for a scheme, betrayal and treason as well.. and last but not least, You Two Shall go walk of Shame before Daniels arms and legs being chopped off and Hearby Banished From my Kingdom and Mark my Words If I ever hear or see you two set foot on Sakutopia again, You'll be executed and your head will be on the Pike as an example of what happens if Abusers and cheaters like you gets too comfortable around in my Kingdom. And also Daniel I'm Calling off the Engagement and I Don't Want to See your Horrible Tyranted Face ever again! Do you hear me? We are Finished!"

After the Announce Of Punishment, Daniel and Barbra began to Go walk of shame naked as the people of Sakutopia Jeering, throwing tomatoes and veggies at them, calling them horrible names and cursed them for their sins including the Murder of Saphira's Daughter. Barbra got 13 lashes from the real sharp whip while Daniel got his arms and legs Chopped off and sterilized completely and now on the Wheelchair, Pushed by His father whom he still Livid and Ashamed towards His own Son For what he has done To Saphira, He heard about His son mistreated Saphira because she's pregnant with a baby girl and all.. and he said to his son coldly, "When we get home Boy, I'm going to give you a beaten of a lifetime and your going to Marry to a Princess of the Ogre Kingdom and you better kiss Barbra minx goodbye cause You'll never going to see her again!" Then King Minx Did the Same thing to Barbra, "You too Young lady, Your going to get a beaten and Your going to Marry to the Prince of the Pig Kingdom so you can Kiss that Rooster Boy goodbye cause you'll never see him again!" Then the Fathers said to Daniel and Barbra," Because of What you did to Saphira and Her Daughter, you've cause treason to the whole entire kingdom!!" Then they left the Kingdom after they apologize For what their idiot son and daughter had done to her, "Good Riddance!" Saphira said. Then Year Later and it was on a First day of December, Saphira was Depressed during that time as Her heart grew heavy and has a Deep Wound Ever Since the Engagement is called off and The time That Daniel Ruined Christmas as well, Her Love was Nowhere to be found. During the Year before the December 1st She rejected every men and went nasty on them. Her father was Worried about Saphira being heartbroken and hated men For a same reason, He Blamed Daniel for all the Mistreatment He Put her through and Now Fearing that Saphira Doesn't believed in love anymore and not even a Christmas Spirit can't Mend a broken heart, So Saphira Decided To Go to the Human World and headed to the cafe alone when it was raining outside in a human world As she went inside of the cafe. She sits Down Alone at the corner of the cafe near the windows and after that, She Looked at the window watching the couples walked by and all made Saphira very heartbroken and depressed. But Suddenly a Mystery man came in and Knowing That She has a broken heart, So He began to tell her That she can go to the Five Finger mountain and then Saphira asked what was in the five finger mountain and the Mystery man said "inside, there was a monkey king and perhaps he will be the one for you, set him free and you shall be his queen.", So She decided to go to the 5 finger mountain but she was chased down by KL Hog after saphira runs out that pigsy is trying to kill her when she's eating food..when she made it up there..she saw the beautiful area and saw a white lotus blossom and she saw the Hole down there..and She moved the lotus blossom and she looked down and she said "Hello?.. Anyone here??" Then she climbed down..and She pulled the flashlight out..and turn it on and then a man with long grey hair with bald head came and hugs her as she screams and said," AHH who are you?!" and then he answers…

#Open rp #Romance #Drama #Journey to the west #Monkey king #Christmas

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euphemiaamillais · 1 year ago

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trash magic - coriolanus snow

coriolanus snow has taken an interest in you, a pretty district 12 girl. however, when you get a little bit too mouthy with the peacekeeper, he reminds you of your place… which is on your knees

cw: 18+//dub-con//peacekeeper!coryo x district 12!reader//blowjobs//piv sex//semi-public sex//creampie//rough sex

the hob is bursting with the colourful music of the covey as miners and girls alike dance to their tunes. you are swaying a little, hand fisting the gingham material of your dress, standing far too close to the peacekeepers who are brooding over the benches at the back.

one of them has his eyes on you, icy gaze boring into your form as you move your hips ever so slightly. he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose, if you’ve seen how the last two weekends, he’s watched you, and only you, instead of lucy gray. he’s looking for a new songbird, one that’s perhaps a little more tame than the one onstage.

you seem to be the perfect candidate.

pretty, with a sweet-face and plump lips. the very picture of innocence. except for the fact that right now, billy taupe has pulled you into a dance. coriolanus sees you laugh, a halcyon tone escaping those pretty lips of yours, and how you bat your eyelashes a little. it’s disgusting. that criminal, touching you, when you are his.

when the song ends, you and billy taupe speak a little more, and he watches as you brush your hand innocently against his arm. coriolanus feels his face burn red with rage, and his hands clench into fists.

billy taupe leaves you alone, and as the next song begins, you feel a pair of hands on your hips. you cry out, slapping them away, but you find he’s too strong; whoever’s groping at you.

‘hey! get your hands off of me before i take my knee and put it up you—’ you stop speaking as you come face to face with the blonde peacekeeper, the one who’s eyes have been following you for weeks now. your heart starts, but you attempt to swallow your fear.

‘careful, doll,’ he grins, perfect teeth drawn into a wolffish smile. ‘i don’t think you want to end up with the charge of threatening a peacekeeper.’

it takes everything in you not to scowl, and instead you force a nod, and attempt to slip away, an apologetic look upon your brow. but something deters you—your wrist is being clutched by his strong hands.

‘i’ve seen you, always hanging round billy taupe. he’s no good,’ he states, as if it’s an order you are obliged to follow. you don’t know why he cares, he doesn’t even know your name.

‘are you telling me off, mr peacekeeper, or are you jealous? ‘cus it sounds like the latter to me,’ you tease, deciding you can’t wear the mask of unaffected ness. the way he is practically commanding you makes you seethe with ire.

‘i could have you strung up for daring to speak to me like that,’ he clamps down on your wrist tighter, drawing you flush against his form. you can feel the outline of his holster pressing into your thigh; the steel cold to your skin. his hands are cold too; frigid, in spite of the heat swallowing the hob whole.

‘oh really? i’d like to see you try. can’t fool me with that face, pretty boy,’ you murmur, and coriolanus feels his free hand veer out as if he’s about to slap you, but he restrains himself, and remembers it will be more trouble if he hit you—peacekeepers had to maintain some sort of decorum, particularly with the ladies.

‘you really should know better than to talk back to a peacekeeper,’ he seethes, eyes burning with anger.

‘maybe i don’t know any better…’ you purse your lips, lashes fluttering like they did at billy taupe. coriolanus rolls his eyes, the way you’re so blatantly teasing him, egging him on. it’s almost as if you are looking for trouble.

‘what is it with you district girls, can’t seem to follow a damn order?’ he mutters, shaking his head.

‘oh, i can follow orders, but only if you tell me real nice,’ you smirk, corners of your lips curling up mischievously.

‘stop teasing, it makes you seem like a whore,’ he spat.

‘well, what if i was one? would you punish me for that? try me out yourself to determine if i was good enough?’ you brush a hand against his chest, causing him to flinch. he can’t deny how much he wants you, but to admit that here would be embarrassing, shameful even. that a boy from the capitol would want a district girl like you.

‘you…’ his voice trails off, mouth going dry at your abrupt comment.

‘what, cat got your tongue? not so tough now mr peacekeeper.’ you laugh in that pretty lilt of yours.

that infuriates him, and his hand balls up into a fist. god, if you weren’t so pretty he wouldn’t have hesitated to drive his fist into your skull. instead, he pulls you by the arm, out of the hob, ignoring the pretty brown eyes of lucy gray that followed him, a sad smile stretching upon her lips as sees saw him haul another girl away.

when you are outside, the balmy air kisses your cheeks. your thighs burn as he gropes your arm, and you can see lust brimming in his eyes, along with the ire only a peacekeeper held.

‘you really need to learn your lesson,’ he scolds, shoving you up against the wall outside the hob. your head spins a little, stars dancing across your eyes.

‘what, don’t talk back to a peacekeeper? i know that already. besides, wouldn’t have done it if i didn’t think you were so cute. now, when you search me, do you want to check under my clothes, just to be thorough?’

he slaps your cheek, watching as you flinch, but surprisingly blink away the tears before they can spill. you take it well, but don’t retaliate. the impact, and the show of his impressive prowess, makes you want him all the more.

coriolanus’ hands are roaming over your breasts, and he drives a knee between your thighs, keeping you pliant for him. he moves his hands down to your waist, feeling the flimsy fabric of your dress under his fingers. he wonders what you’d look like underneath, whether you’re as pretty as you look. he can see that your nipples were receptive to his touch; peeking through your dress. you are a slut, he reasons, because you’re not even wearing a bra.

‘you really shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,’ he tuts, grasping at your hips, pressing hard enough that you can feel bruises blooming in the skin.

‘why? you going to tell on me to your commander?’ you snicker, enjoying the way he’s growing more enraged.

your thighs burn a little as his touch softens again, one hand travelling to the hem of your skirt. he’s cold against your skin, and leans in to whisper your ear. his breath tickles, and you find a heavy breath escapes your lips.

‘no, but i do think you need to be taught a lesson,’ he murmurs, hand sliding up against your thigh.

if he hadn’t done it himself, you would’ve spread your legs for him. you can’t deny it, he’s so hot, and the way he’s so determined to maintain his authority—perhaps fuck you into obedience—only makes you want him all the more.

‘mhm,’ you sigh as his palm finds the apex of your thigh, teasingly rubbing the smooth expanse of skin.

‘you’re going to be a good girl, and take my cock,’ he says, pulling away from your ear to see your reaction.

your brows quirk up, as if you are surprised, but your lips reveal that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. as if you had been doing it all on purpose, riling him up so he’ll bury his cock in you.

he unzips his pants, grunting as your eyes settle on his bulge. even in his boxers, you can see how big he is, the outline making your mouth begin to fill with saliva and your palms tingle slightly.

‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asks, palming himself.

‘mhm,’ you nod, letting him use his other hand to shove you to the ground.

you frown, reealising there’s coal dust on the asphalt, but when it coats everything in twelve, you can’t really complain too much. coryo pulls down his boxers, and your cock meets his face. he must be eight inches, bigger than you’ve ever seen before (well, you’ve only ever been with one other man), the tip is red and leaking a little.

‘you’re gonna take me until i come, and you’re gonna swallow it all… then, maybe if you’ve learned your lesson, i’ll fuck you,’ he dictates, and you nod, a little drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth.

you give his head an exploratory lick, earning a groan from his lips, and use the flat of your tongue to swirl around and lick up the little droplets of precum on his tip.

‘so good,’ he moans, rooting his fingers in your curls.

being more inclined to meanness, he pushes himself past your lips, watching as you struggle to take all of him in. when his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag, and he chuckles, gaze fixed on your watering eyes.

‘can’t—’ you mutter, unable to speak because he continues to push his cock against your throat.

fat tears roll down your face, and your cheeks burn red, partially with anger, and also because you’re so turned on. you want nothing more than to rub at your clit; it’s throbbing so hard that you have to clench your thighs together.

‘come on, you can take it, can’t you, bunny?’ he inquires, bucking his hips against your mouth.

you attempt to nod, quite bleary, but to you’re determined to please him. you lave your tongue up and down his veiny cock, attempting to fight your gag reflex, clenching your hands into fists because you’ve heard that helps.

‘i think i like you better like this, not so mouthy now… can’t talk back to me,’ he pushes your head down, groaning with delight as your saliva coats his shaft. ‘so fucking obedient now.’

you hum, enjoying the praise, albeit that it’s laced with insults too. you’re nothing to him, really. just another pretty district girl to take his cock, another whore to punish. he revels in the newfound power he can exert over the district citizens, that he can coax the girls into anything all because he’s the highest order and he must be obeyed.

he begins to rut against your throat, feeling himself close already. he doesn’t want to admit that you had gotten him so riled up, and tries to pretend that your tongue is just that good that he is about to come.

the way you gag around him is so pretty, his balls slap against your chin as you clench at his thighs. drool spills from your lips now, like you’re salivating over his cock. he don’t know how much more he can take. he slides himself out for a second, and coaxes you to go back to licking the tip.

you run your hands up and down one half of his shaft, while you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, admiring how good it feels. you can already begin to taste the beginnings of his load; it’s slightly salty but you’re eager to swallow it down. eager to do what the peacekeeper says, because really, you’d been teasing him so much on purpose.

‘fuck, gonna cum,’ coriolanus groans, pushing his cock back down your throat, pumping it back and forth a three times before he feels his balls tense up.

he spills a hot load down your throat, pressing his cock right against the back of your mouth to ensure that you swallow all of it down. when he slides out of your mouth, you take your time to diligently lick up all the cum that dropped down his shaft, and then gaze up at him, with wide, dumb eyes and stick your tongue out. you’ve licked all of his load up, and he groans in delight.

‘good girl,’ he muses, patting your head.

for a moment, he almost seems sweet. that’s until he’s forcing your mouth open again, and he leans down and spits right into it. you gag, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to force it down, the wet stuff not pleasant. you can taste the white liquor he’s downed, and you shudder slightly.

when he sees this indifference, he takes it as defiance, and uses this an excuse to slap you again. this time it stings, and you can’t force the tears away. he sneers, tired of the waterworks. you’re so pathetic, on your knees like this, pleading with him to not hurt you again because oh look, he’s drawn blood. a tiny sliver of it trickles down from your cheekbone. you’re whining over nothing.

‘stop fucking complaining!’ he yells, forcing you back up against the wall.

when you attempt to glance down, terrified of meeting his gaze, he yanks a fistful of your hair and makes sure you can see his icy eyes burning into yours. his lip is curled up in anger, and he tugs at your hair again; scalp prickling.

‘don’t think you’ve earned your right to cum, stupid slut,’ he spits, feeling his cock harden again. your whining, the way you’re so desperate for him even though he’s hurting you, is making him so hard. he just has to do something about it.

he uses his free hand to stroke his cock until it’s fully hardened, and then slides his fingers up your bare thighs until he meets the waistband of your panties. they’re pink lace, and so tiny he’s certain you wore them just for him. what a whore.

‘now, you’re going to take my cock, and if i hear so much as a complaint i won’t hesitate to take my gun out,’ you can see it shining in its holster, so you give a terrified nod, legs trembling as his knee holds you up against the wall.

he slides your panties down, just enough that he can get his cock inside of you, and he presses the tip against your folds. you’re soaking wet; so much so that it’s embarrassing, the slick is coating his head.

‘look at that, can’t even help how fuckin’ wet you are for me, huh?’ he shakes his head in disbelief.

you let out a soft whine as he slaps your pussy, your clit throbbing with the need to be touched. you’re so desperate to just use your hand, but you’re afraid of what he’ll do to you, afraid that he’ll press the cold, hard barrel of the gun into your temple and pull the trigger. you didn’t have anybody to miss you.

coriolanus slides his cock inside of you, groaning as your tight walls stretch around him. he’s big, and for a moment you feel tears brimming in your waterline as you attempt to take him. you have practically soaked his cock now, and he’s not even been inside for five seconds.

‘fuck,’ he mutters, beginning to rut against you.

you toss your head back against the wall, and keep your eyes shut as he pounds into you, pace fastening with every thrust. you can tell he’s only there to chase his release, and to teach you a lesson; make you obey him. you cry out in pleasure as his tip presses against your cervix, but you’re only vocal for fear of what he’ll do to you.

‘so fucking tight, and all for me,’ he grunts, gripping your thighs. his touch causes a painful ache across the skin, and red finger marks where he’s groped you are visible.

‘so good,’ you manage to muster up, head knocking slightly against the brick wall.

coriolanus tugs at your hair again, forcing your eyes open and meet his gaze for a brief moment. he presses a hot kiss against your lips, and then trails them down across your jaw, peppering kisses until he reaches your collarbones. they’re visible from years of malnourishment, and he scrapes his teeth against the outline of the bones as his mouth grazes the delicate skin.

you let out an exasperated sigh. and run your hand across his buzzed hair. he makes a sound between a mewl and a groan, burying his cock so deep inside of you that you can feel his balls slap against your perineum. if anyone is in the alley, the sound of your wet pussy taking his cock can be heard; stretching around him as he presses himself deeper and deeper.

‘oh, fuck!’ you gasp; not nearing your own pleasure, because you don’t dare, not when he’s told you you can’t. but it’s a pleasant warmth that continues to pool inside of you as his tip pokes at your g-spot, almost coaxing you to let yourself unfurl. but you don’t.

coriolanus feels himself nearing his release again. you’re so fucking pliant now, and it’s doing his head in. perhaps if he does this enough times, you’ll be completely docile. do whatever he wants, be his pretty doll to fuck whenever he pleases, to fill her up everytime without complaint.

‘gonna fill you up,’ he groans, bucking with tenacity into you.

it aches a little, how hard he’s going, how big he is. your tightness is becoming unbearable for him, and he feels his vision go white for a moment as he yields to his conclusion. with a final thrust, he buries his cum deep inside of you, tight cunt taking every last drop of his pearly cum.

‘look at that, taking my cum like a little whore,’ he muses, continuing to push his cock into you, ensuring that your cunt is taking it all in, a reminder that you now belong to him.

you purse your lips as he pulls out, and you feel his cum leaking down your thighs. before you can do anything about it, he pulls your panties up and laughs, pearly white teeth showing again. they’re almost too perfect, you think. there’s something terrifying about his face, so noble and dignified, and yet he deigns to fuck you so primally.

‘there you go, bunny,’ he says. ‘gotta make sure you remember who you belong to, hm?’

you want to shake your head, to force out a furious ‘no’ because you don’t belong to anyone but yourself, but you find yourself unable to do anything except nod dumbly. look at that, completely submissive and dumb from his cock. exactly how he wants you. stupid and babbling. not mouthy. no, that’s not allowed.

‘did you learn from your punishment, bunny?’ he strokes your cheek with an eerie gentleness, thumb smoothing the now-dried blood on your cheek.

‘yes, thank you, private,’ you remark, lips twisting prettily into a smile. your mouth is like a rosebud; how fitting.

‘next time, i won’t be so kind.’ he murmurs.

you can't deny that heat pools between your thighs as he mentions next time—as if it's a certainty and not something ambiguous like an unkept promise.

'i'll make sure of that, mr peacekeeper.'

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yourauthorjen · 2 months ago

Text

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞. YOU'RE A MUSIC STUDENT WITH JOAQUIN TORRES

a/n: none of the lyrics are mine. all lyrics are from cups by anna kendrick from pitch perfect.

͙͘͡ ★

the pleasant tapping was sweet at first—reminding you of the soft pattering of rain, then the faint sound of needles clicking from knitting; but after a while, it became annoying. like hair pulling annoying.

you paused, pencil between your teeth as you stared at your third attempt of songwriting. it was infuriating, trying to chase the ideas while running on red bull and coffee, your brain somewhere between shutting down and the never ending plane of words scrambling throughout your head.

the tapping didn’t stop though; and when you finally squinted through the fairy lights and half-covered curtains, you spotted a shadow, dark and hovering, balancing on the narrow fire escape.

“sunshine?” the voice was muffled through the glass, but unmistakably familiar.

you dropped your pencil, scrambling off your chair and shoving the window open with a loud creak. the chilly air of the midst of the night swept in, bone-chilling and icy as you stuck your head out.

“joaquin?”

he offered a crooked smile. “hey.”

your boyfriend hooked a leg over the window, one hand wrapped around his torso, the other clamped around the window frame like his body depended on it. nearly tripping, he stumbled halfway through before you caught him, arms under his and dragging his heavy weight inside.

but the second he was fully inside and the light hit his face, your stomach dropped.

“oh my god.” you reached for him instinctively, eyes wide. “what the hell happened to you?!”

he flinched as you touched his cheek, the bruise on his jaw dark and spreading like watercolor. there was a split on his lower lip, and his knuckles were red and scabbed, his jacket stained with what looked like dried blood.

“hey, hey,” he said quickly. “i’m okay—I’m fine, i promise. well, mostly, just a little dented.”

“you’re literally bleeding, joaquin!”

“it’s not actively bleeding,” he offered.

you glared at him, grabbing his wrist and guiding him toward the bed. “sit down before you fall down.”

“bossy,” he muttered with a grin, but winced as he lowered himself. you ignored him, instead kneeling in front of him, already rummaging through the drawer under your bed for the first-aid kit. “what did you even do to get so banged up?”

he didn’t answer at first, not until you cupped his chin, gently tilting his face toward you.

“joaquin.”

his jaw tensed under your fingers. “i might’ve taken a little detour.”

you narrowed your eyes. “what detour?”

he licked his lips nervously, closing his eyes. “don’t get mad at me sunshine, but i may have gotten into a teensy disagreement with my roommate.”

“a disagreement?” you repeated slowly, staring into his amber eyes, “with your roommate?”

he swallowed, “he was talking shit about you and i… i kinda lashed out. said your music was trash, like every other basic girl with a guitar.”

you let out an exasperated sigh. “so you punched him because of that?”

“technically,” he said, sucking in a sharp breath as you finally pressed the disinfectant to the cut near his eyebrow, “he swung first. i just… followed through.”

you stared at him, your exasperation battling the sharp twist in your chest at the fact that he defended you—again. “that is the dumbest thing i have ever heard, joaquin. but honestly, i can’t even be mad because...” you sighed, gentler this time, “... because you’re such a stupid idiot in love that it’s kind of gross.”

his lips tugged into a lopsided grin. “you think i’m in love with you?”

“i think you punched someone because they insulted how i sound, so yeah, i’m gonna go ahead and say fully obsessed.”

“but you’re obsessed with me too, right?” he asked, cracking an eye open and giving you a wounded look.

you tilted your head to the side, carefully pressing a finger to the bruise on his cheek, tracing the purple and green, blooming across his cheek. in return, he winced with a hiss, and you smiled sweetly, fingers sliding back to his jaw.

“careful,” he murmured, watching you from under his lashes. “i’m fragile right now.”

“yeah, and whose fault is that?” you said, though your voice was soft and teasing. “you crash-land into my room in the middle of the night looking like you lost a fight—”

“i won, technically.”

"you're lucky i love you," you muttered under your breath, with an amused twitch of your lips.

"i do," he grumbled, "it's why my roommate looks like someone shoved his ass into a garbage disposable unit."

"or you could've just used your words, like a big kid," you teased. "really, it's not that big of a deal."

instead of biting back with a smug grin, his gaze hardened, brown eyes sharpening like flint. "but it is to me."

you blinked, stunned.

"i don't care what people say about me. but not about you. 'cause they don't see the way your eyes light up with pride after you finish writing, even if it means staying up till three in the morning." he murmured, "he called you a basic girl with a guitar, but you're anything but basic." his eyes were shining now. "in fact, you're anything but basic. and that guitar? it’s the reason i fell for you in the first place, sunshine."

your chest turned warm, and your heart pounded hard in your chest, as his gaze flicked to your mouth. his jaw was cradled in your fingers again, and thumb brushing carefully over the side of his bruise. joaquin watched you with a soft and hopeful expression, like the one he always had when he wanted to ask you for something.

"so... you gonna kiss me now or are you gonna make me suffer more?"

you shook your head, laughing under your breath as you stood up and reached for your guitar.

“not until you’ve earned it.”

he groaned, flopping back onto your pillows again. “sunshine, i’m bleeding for you.”

“…no,”

he huffed out a breath, “fine will you at least sing for me then?”

you paused, half-expecting him to follow it with another dumb joke—but he didn’t. he was looking at you with those intense brown eyes, dark curls falling loosely over his eyebrows. "you always sing when you think i’m asleep,” he said. “you did it the night before when we fell asleep on your couch. i remember.”

you bit your bottom lip. “that doesn’t count.

"it does," he insisted. "besides, i wanna hear what you've been working on."

you hesitated, fingers brushing lightly over the strings of your guitar. the room had gone quiet except for the low hum of the city outside and joaquin’s breathing, which was slower and steadier, like he was starting to relax. his head was propped against the headboard of the bed, and you were sitting across from him, his eyes soft and floored onto yours.

“it’s not done,” you said softly.

“doesn’t have to be,” he replied, shifting slightly on the bed, wincing only a little. “just wanna hear it from you.”

you glanced at him, still sprawled out like a battered prince, all bruises and blood and an unwavering look of determination, something that always made your heart stutter.

so you sat on the edge of the bed, guitar in your lap, and started to strum at the bronze, voice shy and uncertain.

i got my ticket for the long way 'round, two bottle whiskey for the way and i sure would like some sweet company, and i'm leaving tomorrow, what'd you say?

joaquin’s hand started tapping against his thigh in rhythm. not loud, just a familiar three-beat pattern—tap tap clap—like muscle memory.

he smiled a little to himself, not even looking at his hand, just keeping it soft in time while his eyes stayed locked on you.

when i'm gone, when i'm gone, you're gonna miss me when i'm gone. you're gonna miss me by my hair, you're gonna miss me everywhere, oh, you're gonna miss me when i'm gone.

his head was still tipped back, but his lips were parted, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. you kept going anyways, though, your strumming slowed down a little.

i got my ticket for the long way round, the one with the prettiest of views. it's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to give you shivers, but it sure would be prettier with you.

you let the rest fade into silence, and by then, joaquin's finger had stilled, the last tap lingering like an echo. he didn’t blink.

“sunshine,” he whispered, voice soft like a prayer.

you didn’t answer, instead you just leaned down and kissed him—careful, gentle, and reverent.

he smiled against your lips.

“see?” he murmured resting his forehead against yours, “music heals.”

͙͘͡ ★

you're gonna miss me by my walk, you're gonna miss me by my talk, oh, you're sure gonna miss me when i'm gone. — cups, by anna kendrick from pitch perfect

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moon-ttokki-x · 5 months ago

Note

hiii i see you hav angst fics, do uu write character death? if u do then can i request a reader death one and how the members react to it? totally okay if you can’t lolz

ok so this is the angstiest thing i've ever written . . . proceed with caution bc it gets quite intense >< it was a nice release though, i haven't been feeling too over the moon lately, so it helped me a little <3 also blurry header for added angsty vibes . anyway here you go, love~

don't go, please - skz hyung!line x reader

pairing: ot8!skz hyung!line x reader

summary: skz hyung line reactions to when you d*e.

genre: so so heavy on the angst i cannot stress that enough, kind of dark, mentions of not eating, depression, anxiety, reader doesn't really exist in this fic, sad skz which hurt me to write, mentions of pushing people away, unhealthy obsessions, loss of passion and interests, just really heavy grief themes

a/n: you can't expect me to get a request like this and not write the angstiest, most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking shit anyone has ever read . . . anyway suffer . div by @carnage-cathedral

if this content makes you uncomfortable, please skip it . the last thing i want is to make people upset, so don't read this if it's triggering for you. proceed with caution and be safe, my loves <3

skz masterlist

Chan who goes silent when he hears the news. Doesn't talk, doesn't move, and then gets up and leaves, walking endlessly and aimlessly through the streets until the members have to physically stop him. Doesn't wail or cry, doesn't make a fuss. Becomes less affectionate with everyone around him because physical affection reminds him of you; your hugs and kisses and your hands playing with his. Loses his leader attitude, becomes quiet and introverted, and can't seem to find as much passion in being a leader for his team like he did before. Is wary around everyone he's ever known, pushes people away like he did when he was a trainee. Sits in his room most days; is hardly ever seen, and when he is, he's looking at a little polaroid photo of you, clutched between shaking fingers as he wishes for you to come back.

Minho who immediately shuts himself away, refusing to see or talk to anyone. Spends all day in his dorm room, just sitting and staring placidly at the wall. Relives every single moment you've ever shared and wishes endlessly that he could have spent more time with you. Doesn't feel like dancing much anymore, and any remnants of energy he might have had when you were still here is gone. Becomes bitter and angry, harsh towards his own members. Even loves his cats a little less; most of his memories with them are ones shared with you, and they're far too painful for him to relive. His emotions dry up like a dead, shriveled plant and disappear, his teasing personality evaporating with it.

Changbin who goes radio silent over the phone; hangs up immediately after and can be heard throwing up from distress in the staff bathroom. Is taken sick for a week due to the shock, and doesn't eat much throughout. Ends up throwing all of his still-to-be-given-to-you love letters in the trash, along with the diamond ring he was planning to give you the night of your anniversary. Quits producing music; his words don't flow as smoothly as before, even when he rarely feels like talking to anyone. Permanent eye bags take place under his eyes as he goes online, clicking out of his gym membership. Doesn't want to touch any of your belongings, it's too painful, and quits working out due to the lack of energy in his body.

Hyunjin who choked out a terrible, wailing scream and tore out his hair when he found out what happened; begged his members for it not to be true. Spends all day just staring out the window; is no longer afraid of anything, and finds nothing but icy numbness and a deep blue sadness taking root in his heart. Covers the walls of his room and art studio in pictures of you; splatters the walls in scarlet red and peachy pink, and then splatters himself in the same shades. Can't find it in himself to paint for much longer after that; doesn't cut his hair or paint his nails anymore, because that was always your job. Sets fire to his sketchbook and puts the ashes of it in a jar; then sets it on his top shelf and tucks the rest of his supplies away. Is no longer able to find any beauty in the world, not if you aren't there with him to see it.

a/n: i'm not writing a part 2 unless someone requests it

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itsjustapumpkin · 15 days ago

Text

Couldn’t be worse (Part 1)

Tmnt Bayverse Leonardo x (fem) Reader

MDNI 18+

Description - You were already hanging on by a thread—working late shifts, battling anxiety, and going through the motions of a life that never felt like yours.But one wrong turn after work leaves you bleeding, disoriented, and running for your life. A desperate escape drops you straight into the underbelly of New York—literally.When you wake up, you’re surrounded by four mutant turtles, all questions and secrets. As you heal, learn, and try to reclaim some sense of control, you find yourself drawn to the one who holds himself the tightest.

Part 2 -> Here

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The cold of the night bit through your thin work shirt as you stepped out of the diner — another shitty night. The sticky feeling of dried soda on your skin and the clink of coins in your pocket still fresh from your shift. You had just finished a double, and your legs were threatening to give out with each step.

The streets were quieter than usual—too quiet for comfort. You tugged your jacket tighter and took a sharp left into a side street you normally avoided, hoping to shave five minutes off the walk home. Of course yo your luck. Big fucking mistake.

You heard the footsteps first. Fast. Heavy. Purposeful. You glanced over your shoulder.

A man in a tattered hoodie was trailing you.

You picked up your pace. So did he.

“Hey!” his voice rang out. “C’mon, I just wanna talk.”

Bullshit.

You didn’t answer. Just kept moving. Then another shadow appeared ahead of you—cutting off your path. Your breath hitched.

“Didn’t your mama teach you not to ignore people?” the second man sneered. He was blocking the sidewalk now, grin crooked and teeth yellow. “What you got in the bag, sweetheart?”

Panic. Real, raw panic.

You turned on your heel and sprinted in the opposite direction. Your breath burned your throat, the icy night air slicing at your lungs. But you were running blind—and your luck was shit.

Your heart hammered. You turned to run, but then you felt a grab on your arm—fingers tight like iron—and yanked you back. You screamed, twisting away.

“Let go of me!”

The man lunged from the side, grabbing your arm and jerking you back hard enough to spin you. A flash of metal caught your eye—box cutter—then a sudden sting, sharp and deep across your forearm.

You screamed and stumbled, warm blood instantly soaking your sleeve.

“Just give us the fuckin’ cash!” he growled.

You cried out, but the adrenaline kicked in before the fear could swallow you whole. You kneed him square in the groin, hard enough to make him drop to the ground with a howl.

“Bitch!”

You didn’t wait to hear more. You ran. Blood dripped down your arm, soaking into your sleeve as you stumbled through the alley, vision blurring from panic. You didn’t know where you were going—you just had to get away.

You zigzagged through back routes, knocking over trash bins and cutting down narrow walkways. You couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore. Not clearly. But you didn’t stop—not until your body gave out beneath you, your foot catching on something solid and round.

You slammed to the ground, pain flaring through your knees and palms. You scrambled to get up—then noticed it. A manhole cover. Slightly off its frame. Just enough space.

And then you heard him again—his voice, somewhere close:

“WHERE’D YOU GO?! HUH?! I WILL FIND YOU!”

He was close. Too close. With no other option, you slipped your fingers into the edge of the cover, ignoring the grime, and pulled just enough to push it aside. The stink of wet mold, rust, and sewer rot hit you hard—but you didn’t hesitate. You slipped one bloodied hand onto the ladder and climbed down, feet finding the slick metal rungs in the dark.

Every breath echoed. You stopped about halfway down and tucked your body tight against the wall, trying not to shake. You didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare breathe.

Above you, the man’s boots hit the pavement nearby. “I saw you! I saw you come this way, you little cunt—don’t play with me!” He was pacing back and forth over the cover. You could feel him there. You shut your eyes tight and held your breath, chest rising and falling in slow, controlled movements.

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Another.

His voice trailed off. His footsteps grew fainter.

Eventually, silence returned, broken only by the drip of water from overhead pipes and your own thudding heartbeat.

You waited another moment. Then two. Then, finally, you exhaled, breath shaky and heavy in the dark. You moved to climb back up. Your hand, still shaking, gripped the rung above you. It creaked, wet and rusted.

Your foot rose—and slipped. You scrambled to regain footing, but the metal was slick with sewage and age. Another step—CRACK. One of the rungs gave out beneath your weight.

Your scream echoed through the tunnel as you tumbled backwards into the dark, your body twisting midair. You hit the stone floor below with a sickening thud, your elbow smashing into the ground and your head whipping to the side. Pain exploded through your shoulder, and something warm and wet trickled from your temple.

Then everything went black.

— — — —

“Yo, yo, YO! Sewer Drift King strikes again!!”

Mikey’s voice echoed off the tunnel walls as his board sliced through a slick patch of runoff, kicking up nasty sewer water like a wave behind him. He leaned hard into the curve, one hand dragging against the stone for balance.

“Left turn—oh snap—duck!” He crouched just in time to clear a low-hanging pipe, laughing to himself as he zoomed under it. “Man, Raph’s gonna be so mad he missed this lap. I’m on fire tonight!”

His orange bandana tails fluttered behind him as he twisted around a support beam like it was a slalom pole, the LED strips Donnie had installed in his board flickering blue under the filth-covered water. He was vibing. He was groovin’. He was—

“Oh SH—!”

Something was in the tunnel. Someone.

A shape lying across the floor just ahead. Human.

He jerked the board hard to the left and tried to jump it, but his wheels caught on the uneven stone. Mikey let out a strangled, “AAAAOHH NO NO NO—!” as he went flying off the board. His shell smacked against the wall with a loud crack, and he landed face-first in about three inches of nasty-ass sludge.

“Pppbbbttthh—GAH! Bleh! BLEH! That is not filtered water,” he coughed, spitting and flailing a little as he rolled to his knees.

Groaning, Mikey sat up, wiping his mouth dramatically on the back of his wrist and muttering to himself.

“Great job, Michelangelo. Nice save. Real smooth.”

He turned—and saw the body. A girl. Young. hair matted with grime. One arm bloodied.

Mikey froze. “…uhhhh—ma’am?” No response.

He slowly crawled closer, switching to full Serious Mode. “Yo, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead. Raph will never let me live this down.” He reached out and gently turned you onto your side. You were breathing—shallow, but steady. Your forehead was bleeding, and your arm was torn up bad. Your clothes were soaked and filthy, and you looked like you’d been through hell.

Mikey blinked, taking a slow breath, then slapped a hand to the side of his shell and activated the shoulder com. “Uh, guys? We got a situation.”

Donnie’s voice crackled through almost immediately, irritated and distracted. “What kind of situation, Mikey? If you broke your board again—”

“No, dude, like, real situation. Human girl. Unconscious. Bleeding. In our tunnel.”

That got a pause.

Donnie (completely snapped out of it): “Where exactly are you?! What condition is she in? Is she conscious?! Bleeding? Breathing?”

Mikey (panicked): “She’s out cold, bro! There’s blood, she’s soaked, she looks like she fell down here or somethin’—and I literally tripped over her.”

Raph (muttering in the background through donnie’s coms): “You sure this ain’t some setup? Ain’t no one just wandering into our tunnels by accident.”

Leo (coming over commanding): “Location, Mikey. Now.”

Donnie (typing rapidly): “I’m pinging his tracker. Mikey, bring her straight to the med bay. Don’t wait. I’m prepping a crash cart. Apply pressure if she’s still bleeding, and watch for signs of head trauma.”

Mikey (picking you up and adjusting you in his arms): “Got it, got it—on my way, dudes. I’ll be there in, like… two skate-lengths and a prayer.”

Donnie (deadpan): “Not the time for jokes.”

Mikey (softly, glancing down at you): “…Wasn’t a joke bro.”

— — — —

Echoing down the hallway of the lair.

“MAKE WAY—HOT TURTLE COMIN’ THROUGH!” Mikey yelled, his voice bouncing off the tile walls as he sprinted in, feet splashing through puddles left by their leaky pipes.

You hung limply in his arms, arms scraped and limp, your face pale beneath a smear of blood and dirt. One of your shoes was missing. Your head lolled gently against his shoulder.

Donnie looked up from his desk mid-sip of something green and disgusting. His eyes locked on the girl in Mikey’s arms.

“Put her on the table. Now.”

Mikey didn’t hesitate. He darted toward the med bay corner of the lair, gently laying you down on the slab of reinforced steel they used for patching each other up after patrol.

Raph and Leo came in from the hallway, both mid-conversation until they saw you. Everything stopped.

Leo’s brows furrowed, mouth tightening. “Where the hell did she come from?”

Raph muttered something under his breath and stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he scanned the cuts and bruises on your arms and legs. “You sure she ain’t bait?”

Mikey threw your purse down beside the table. “Nah, bro, she’s not fakin’. I found her in the tunnel—straight-up unconscious. Almost busted my shell tripping over her!”

Donnie pulled on homemade gloves to fit his 3 finger hands all in one fluid motion, grabbing his med kit with the other. “I don’t care where she came from right now—if she’s bleeding, I need to stop it.” He clicked on a bright overhead lamp, illuminating your face. The light caught a deep gash across your temple, your arm torn open from the box cutter, still bleeding sluggishly.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Donnie muttered, already disinfecting your arm. “Laceration to the forearm… head wound, possible concussion…” He grabbed a saline bag from the cabinet and hung it above the table, expertly slipping an IV into the crook of your elbow. Raph flinched and looked away.

Leo folded his arms. “You think she fell?”

Mikey nodded quickly. “When I was lookin around she was under a broken ladder. Manhole cover was popped open. Looked like she might’ve slipped. I dunno. Could’ve been dumped there too.”

Donnie scanned your ID quickly from the purse, frowning. “Name’s Y/N. in her 20s. She’s local. No trauma kit, no flashlight, no tools. Doesn’t look like she came down here on purpose.”

Leo’s jaw tightened. “So she was chased. Or jumped. Or running from something.”

Raph stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes not leaving your face. His voice dropped just a bit. “Well shes bleeding and looks scared even unconscious, dude. I don’t think this was planned. She was tryin’ to hide. Or escape.”

Donnie nodded slowly, placing a heart monitor sticker to your chest as he read your vitals. “No sign of internal bleeding. Pulse is low, but stable. She’ll live. But we need to be ready in case she wakes up swinging.”

Leo stepped closer to the table, glancing over your face with guarded curiosity. “She’s already in too deep.”

“She ain’t seen us yet,” Raph pointed out. “That’s what matters.”

Donnie double-checked the IV line and sighed. “Well… she’s gonna.” They all stood there in silence for a beat, looking at you—just a normal girl, unconscious in the middle of their hidden world.

Mikey scratched behind his neck. “Sooo… like… do we offer her pizza when she wakes up? Or just… explain the whole mutant turtle vigilante thing after she stops screaming?”

No one answered.

— — — —

“Alright… let’s see who we’ve got laying unconscious on our operating table in the middle of a sewer,” Donnie muttered, typing with one hand and swiping through your ID with the other.

He sat hunched over his workstation beside the med table, your file pulled up across three cracked monitors. The IV line hung steadily beside you, your chest rising and falling in slow, stable rhythm. Stitches lined your temple and forearm. You looked… peaceful. For now.

Leo stood nearby, arms crossed, still on alert. Raph leaned against the wall, chewing a toothpick, watching you with narrowed eyes like you might go feral at any second.

And Mikey? He was sitting cross-legged right next to your table with your phone in hand—already unlocked. How? No one knows. Mikey magic.

“OHHH she got Spotify taste,” he grinned, flicking through your playlists. “Got sad girl bangers, okayyy. R&B, throwbacks, a lil ‘Cry in the Shower at 2AM’ playlist action—yo, same.”

“Michelangelo,” Leo warned, “maybe don’t scroll through her personal life.”

“Too late,” Mikey snorted. “Oh! Selfies. Yo she cute. Donnie, pull up her Facebook or LinkedIn or whatever boring adult site you use.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “Already ahead of you. Very normal civilian stuff by the way.”

“Okay, okay but hold up,” Mikey said, angling the phone toward Donnie with a smirk. “Look at this one tell me that’s not a ‘just got ghosted and pretending I’m fine’ pic.”

“Mikey put the damn phone down” Raph snorted. Leo shook his head, muttering something about children. Then Donnie’s screen beeped. “Vitals just spiked—heart rate’s rising.” Mikey leaned forward. “Think she’s wakin’ up? Before anyone could answer, your eyes fluttered open. You stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, brain foggy—concrete? Arcade vibes? Pipes? The hell?

Your lips mouthed the words before your voice even caught up: What the fuck…?

Then you turned your head. And saw them.

Four. Giant. Mutant. Turtles.

Your mouth opened wide, and this time, sound did come out. “WHAT THE FUCK!!” Your scream shot through the lair like a sonic boom.

Mikey’s eyes went wide. “Aw, hell.”

You jolted, panic flooding your veins, and tried to sit up—too fast. The sudden motion ripped the IV from your arm.

“Wait—don’t—!” Donnie reached for you. Too late.

You screamed again, instinct taking over. You shoved at Mikey and tumbled off the side of the table, legs hitting the floor hard. Blood immediately started soaking through the bandage on your arm—your stitches had torn open.

“Shit, she popped her sutures!” Donnie snapped, grabbing gauze.

“Don’t come near me!” you cried out, breath heaving, trying to crawl backward across the floor. You were half-delirious with fear, eyes wild, your back to the wall and blood dripping down your elbow.

Leo stepped forward, both hands raised calmly. “We’re not gonna hurt you, okay? Just breathe.”

“You’re turtles! TALKING WALKING GIANT TURTLES!”

“I mean, technically mutants, but yeah, fair reaction,” Mikey muttered.

“I—WHAT—WHERE AM I?!”

Donnie crouched slowly, staying low. “You fell. You were unconscious. We treated your wounds. We’re not the bad guys, we promise.”

“I knew I should’ve called an Uber.” you spat, heart racing. You backed into the nearest wall, chest heaving, eyes darting between them all. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to form words but completely failing. Your brain couldn’t make sense of anything.

Leo stepped forward, hands raised in calm. “Hey—it’s okay.”

You blinked fast. “I’m dreaming. This is a dream.”

“It’s not,” Donnie said flatly, already pressing gauze to your arm as you flinched back.

“I fell,” you whispered. “Into the sewer…”

Mikey popped his head around the table, flashing a grin. “And now you’re in our crib. Surprise!”

You stared at them. “You’re turtles.”

“Yup.”

“And you talk.”

“Yup.”

“And you gave me stitches…?”

Donnie gave a tired nod. “And saved your life.”

You stared in silence, stunned. “I knew I should’ve listened to my mother about moving here…This city is insane.

Donatello didn’t pause, already peeling open another gauze pad. “Welcome to New York.” Raph groaned out.

You winced as he gently pressed it against your arm again. Your stitches had definitely ripped—fresh blood seeped through the bandages.

“Try not to move too much this time,” he murmured, voice steady, clinical. “You tore the internal ones, too. Gonna have to redo all of it.” You blinked at him, still panting a little. “You’re… really calm for a guy stitching up a human girl in the sewer.”

“I’ve had practice,” he said, flicking his eyes up to meet yours for just a second. “Also, you’re not the weirdest thing I’ve patched up down here.”

Mikey leaned over the table from the other side, smirking. “One time Raph literally fell into a dumpster full of kitchen knives.” Raph scoffed from across the room. “They were chef’s knives, not swords. I walked it off.” Leo cut in smoothly, stepping closer. “You fell into our territory, but we couldn’t leave you out there like that.”

Your eyes flicked to him. His voice was calm, grounded. It helped. A little. “You saved me?” you asked quietly. Donnie nodded. “You fell hard. Likely from the surface, You were unconscious. Arm sliced, head trauma. You’re lucky Mikey found you when he did.”

Mikey puffed his chest. “Turtle timing, baby. Sewer guardian angel at your service.” You let out a breathy laugh—half from disbelief, half from exhaustion.

“You’re serious? You’re actual mutant turtles? This is real?”

Leo held your gaze, quiet but sure. “We’re real. And you’re safe. Again we’re not gonna hurt you.”

Donnie was threading a needle now, his gloved hands precise and practiced. You watched, stomach twisting at the sight of it, but his tone was soft.

“This part’s gonna sting,” he said. “I’ll be quick.”

Mikey leaned in again, whispering dramatically like a kid in church. “Think about food dude, that’s what calms me down. Especially the dishes you can’t pronounce.” You bit your lip, a chuckle escaping despite yourself.

“Shh,” Donnie muttered without looking up. “I’m calming her nerves,” Mikey defended. “Therapy turtle over here.”

You let your head fall back gently against the wall behind the table, eyes fluttering closed for just a second. It was so surreal. You were in some kind of hidden underground lair, surrounded by four humanoid turtles—one of whom was stitching your arm together like it was no big deal.

Leo stepped beside Donnie, speaking to you gently.“My name’s Leonardo. That’s Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael.”

You looked between them, swallowing hard. “You’re like… superheroes or something?”

Raph gave a small shrug. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Emphasis on the ‘or something,’ we’re ninjas who do cool ninja stuff with cool ninja weapons” Mikey grinned doing a classic karate pose with his nunchucks.

Donnie tied the last stitch off and taped fresh gauze over your arm. “Done. Again.”

You glanced at him. “Thanks.”

His eyes flicked up for a second. “You’re welcome.”

You sat there for a beat, just breathing, the ache in your head slowly dulling under the hum of old lights and distant city rumbles from above. The brothers backed off a little, giving you space.

Mikey pulled up a rolling chair and spun it once before plopping down. “Sooo… now that the panic’s subsided—what’s your favorite pizza topping? It’s a personality test. Don’t mess it up.”

You raised a brow, caught between laughter and disbelief. “…Are you seriously asking me that right now?” He gave you an exaggerated nod, full grin. “It’s life-or-death.” You actually laughed this time. Despite the pain. Despite everything. It felt ridiculous. But also… safe.

Weirdly safe.

— — — —

After a while, the room quieted. You were sitting now, leaned back against the wall, sipping from a water bottle Mikey brought you in a reusable Batman cup.

Your arm was bandaged properly. The pain in your head had dulled to a manageable throb. They let you breathe. But the air still carried tension—like something hadn’t been said yet.

Across the lair, Donnie was tapping away at a holoscreen rigged from old tech, fingers flying faster than any normal person could keep up with. Lines of code danced behind camera footage, gray-scale clips of alleys, rooftops, street corners.

Leo stood nearby, arms crossed, watching in silence.

You glanced over. “You guys looking for something?”

Donnie didn’t turn. “Trying to figure out how you got down here. None of us were topside when it happened.”

Raph scoffed under his breath. “Mikey found you laid out at the bottom of a tunnel like somebody dumped you.”

That made your heart skip.

“I-I fell,” you said. “I ran and climbed down a ladder—I think. But I slipped. I hit the ground and… I don’t remember much after that.” Donnie rewound a clip. Froze it. Then narrowed his eyes.

“There,” he muttered, pointing. Leo stepped in closer. You pushed yourself up off the wall, walking, limping, over slowly. The footage was from a traffic cam positioned above a building on Delancey. It caught the alley behind your restaurant—grainy, but clear enough to recognize your form sprinting into frame.

A tall figure chased after you. Hoodie up. Fast. He cornered you behind a dumpster—but the camera angle cut off what happened next. Another clip—street-level—showed you stumbling out the other side. Your arm already bleeding. You were gripping it as you bolted down the street, disappearing toward the manhole cover.

Donnie sighed through his nose. “Whoever it was didn’t follow her after that. But it looks like the guy caught up to her for a few seconds, but the weird part? He didn’t try to follow her down. He stopped at the curb. Like he gave up.”

Leo’s jaw flexed slightly.

You stood still, feeling your throat go dry.

— — — —

Later, you sat on the edge of the couch feeling both grounded and disoriented.

You had no idea what time it was.

You looked up at Donnie. “Am I okay to go home?”He hesitated, running one more scan over your arm with a handheld device. “No concussion signs now. Stitches are holding. I’d say you’re cleared for travel. But no work. No strain. And absolutely no getting chased through the streets for at least 72 hours.”

You gave a faint laugh. “Deal.”

Leo stepped forward without a word. “I’ll take her.”

You blinked up at him. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” he said. “But I want to.”

You said your thank yous and goodbyes to your new…friends? You followed Leo through the tunnels, and this time he moved slowly for you, making sure you’d keep up. You limped a little in your pace behind him until you reached a vertical shaft with a metal ladder leading up.

Leo glanced at it… then looked over his shoulder at you with a small smirk. “You afraid of heights?”

You blinked. “…Maybe?”

“That’s too bad.” He turned around fully and crouched picking you carefully up bridal style.

You hesitated, unsure what to think.

He glanced at you again, that faint humor still in his voice. “Well do you wanna walk streets, or you wanna ride a rooftop tour through New York?”

“…Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. It’s faster. And more fun. Unless you puke.”

“…Do people puke?”

He didn’t answer. Just smiled at you.

You clung your one good arm around his thick neck tighter than you expected, and with one smooth motion, he launched the both of you straight up, pushing off the walls until he hit the top and jumped to a rooftop. The air outside was brisk, cooler now in the early morning hours. The city lights were still alive, but quieted. Without warning, Leo sprinted and jumped—full speed—across the first rooftop.

You gasped, instinctively gripping tighter. “OH my god—” He landed smoothly. “Relax. I’ve done this a few times.”

“A few?!”

Another jump. Another landing. Your stomach dropped, but your trust didn’t. The skyline blurred past. The rhythm of his footfalls against concrete rooftops was steady, controlled—like he was born to move this way.

Eventually, he slowed, crouching behind a large air conditioning unit near the back of your apartment building.

“This is you, right?”

You nodded, still breathless. Leo carefully lowered you to your feet and stood up straight.

You hesitated before speaking. “So… will I see you guys again?”

He looked at you, expression unreadable. But something flickered behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “Donnie already got all your info.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Wait—how?”

Mikey’s voice echoed in your head: “He’s like the FBI.”

Leo gave a small shrug. “He’s thorough. We’ll check in at some point. Just to make sure everything’s good.”

You smiled gently. “That’d be nice.”

He nodded, then added, serious now:

“And please—don’t tell anyone about us. Not your family. Not your friends. We’re not… supposed to be known. People don’t always react well.”

You nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. “I won’t. I promise.”

He gave one last look over your shoulder at the apartment behind you, as if scanning the shadows for trouble. Then, with a slight nod, he stepped back, turned—and disappeared over the edge with a clean, silent leap.

You hurried to the rooftop edge and peeked over. He was already two buildings away—running, then jumping to the next, like a phantom weaving through the skyline.

Gone. Just like that.

— — — —

You closed the apartment door gently behind you, clicking the lock into place. The moment it shut, your shoulders slumped—your whole body feeling like it weighed three times more than usual.

Your right foot throbbed with every step, and your arms were starting to ache—bruises forming from your fall, and from the impact of crashing into god knows what in the sewer.

You limped across the small apartment, your breath catching as you passed the hallway mirror. You looked… rough. Dirt smudged your jaw. A rip in your jeans. A dried line of blood still clung to your forearm bandage from where Donatello had stitched you up.

You exhaled, just trying to hold it together.

No tears. Not yet.

You made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the light, wincing at the sudden brightness. You didn’t want to cook, didn’t want to think. But your stomach was still growling softly, like it hadn’t noticed the trauma your body had just endured.

You poured a bowl of cereal. Something easy. Sweet. The crunch echoed through the silent apartment as you sat at the counter, spooning it slowly, one bite at a time. Each chew grounded you, made things feel… a little more normal. Like if you focused on just eating, you could pretend everything else hadn’t just happened.

Your phone sat silent on the table next to you, and for a moment you stared at it before tapping it to see what time it was. 4:46am. It read on the screen. You sat longer thinking if you go to bed and wake up. will it all have been a dream?

After a few minutes, you stood with a groan, wincing as you moved to the bathroom. You took two melatonin gummies from the cabinet, chewing them absently before brushing your teeth and wiping your face with a damp cloth cleaning the dried dirt and blood off of yourself.

The bed was calling you. Your whole body begged for it. You grabbed a clean t-shirt and a pair of soft sleep shorts from your dresser and limped your way to the bed. As you pulled the covers back, you paused—just for a second.

The image of Leo jumping rooftop to rooftop flashed through your mind. The way Mikey had carried you in like you mattered. Donatello’s precision and calm focus as he treated your wounds. Even Raph’s looming presence—cautious, but protective.

You’d never met anyone like them.

You’d never imagined something like them.

And now they were a part of your life… somehow. You slid beneath the sheets and turned off the lamp. The city buzzed quietly outside your window, but in here… it was still. Warm. Safe. Your eyes slowly closed.

And you drifted off to sleep with the faint scent of the sewers still clinging to your hoodie and the memory of four giant mutant turtles burned into your memory.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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icys-junkyard · 2 months ago

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the snack that smiles back 🧡

#pokemon #magikarp #pokemon plush #icys trash talk #the new batch of ditto plushes are wonderful

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icy-dark-star · 1 year ago

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if it's alright to ask, what's dedede tuesday? very curious

The answer to that is... absolutely nothing!

It's mostly just a joke based on how people like to name certain days of the week after characters that start with the same letter as them and I needed a funny caption for my stupid t-posing ace Dedede render and I thought it would be funny. It probably isn't except to me, oops.

#trash talks #thank you for asking!#and welcome to icy answers asks in the middle of the night while I should be sleeping!

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melloollem · 9 months ago

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Trash ll|| Bruce Wayne× Child!reader

Summary: In a city where survival is your main objective, you do whatever it takes, including getting involved in Gotham's criminal world.

Warnings: Common comic book violence, weapons, corruption of minors (minors involved in crimes), anguish, guilt, conflicts.

(Chapter l, Chapter ll, Chapter lll, Chapter lV)

(Dc masterlist)

You were dizzy enough not to care how you got here, you couldn't feel your whole body and your mind seemed to be covered in a fog. You were looking around with no real competence when someone opened the door to your room, then a man who had been sitting next to you got up and they started a conversation. Despite your best efforts to listen to them, a loud buzzing sound settled in your brain and soon you gave up, agreeing to just observe the interaction between the two men in front of you.

One of them, the one who had been with you since you woke up, had a white lock in his hair, he seemed a little off when he spoke, he certainly wasn't happy, while the other man, a little taller and older, had a firm face, he wasn't happy either, but he seemed calmer, he had a familiar face, but not familiar enough for you to remember who it was.

For a second the buzzing in your head stopped and you could hear a single word "Jason", this was before a tingling sensation consumed your entire body, as if all your senses came back at once, this made you let out a low squeak, loud enough for the two men's attention to turn to you.

Their conversation was once again out of your reach and a nurse entered the room. An icy sensation consumed your body and mind and, in the next instant, darkness consumed your thoughts.

"He'll be fine, the anesthesia will wear off soon." The nurse's confirmation helped calm Bruce's noticeable apprehension, but had no effect on Jason's obvious tension. "I think you'd better talk outside." Jason didn't take a second to turn his back and head for the hospital corridor, soon to be followed by Bruce.

All the time he was avoiding looking directly into the face of the man next to him, he was sure that Bruce was condemning him for what he had done. How could Jason let that happen? He had almost taken your life.

"The child, he is a henchman, he has no definite boss, he is 11 years old, his mother is deceased and he has no record of his father" Jason listened attentively to Bruce's little report about you, he had already assumed that you were an orphan thanks to the situation in which he had met you.

"How long has he been at it?" The information wasn't really relevant to Jason, but he didn't know what to ask either, he had shot an 11-year-old. "Operating in the criminal world for 1 and 5 months, working as a henchman for 4 months" Bruce was really surprised at how long you'd managed to do this without getting into trouble.

Jason's mind was consumed by all the questions that followed. You were an orphan child entirely involved in the criminal world, he couldn't leave you on welfare and he couldn't let you back on the streets. Jason knew how bad both circumstances were.

"Jason" Bruce's voice pulled him back to the present moment "I know you're blaming yourself for what's happened, but he'll be fine, his current situation is already stable and we'll soon be seeing a home for him" Jason wished Bruce's current words were enough to comfort his soul, but they weren't. Knowing that Bruce had noticed how guilty he looked only affirmed his guilt.

At that moment Jason felt like confessing his sins to Bruce, assuming out loud that the scene of a child's pale face collapsed in his arms with bloodstained clothes was the only thing he'd had on his mind all the days he'd been sitting in that hospital room waiting for you to get better, but he didn't, he was afraid of his father's reaction, he was afraid that for even a single second he would see a look of disappointment on his face.

"Are you honestly thinking of adopting him?" Jason asked, returning to the subject of the conversation before you woke up with the intention of changing the conversation. Jason didn't want to let you go on welfare, but he wasn't in favor of adopting Bruce either. Bruce preferred to leave this conversation for another time, he was more focused on calming his son down from his growing guilt, but Jason clearly didn't want to talk about it now.

"I think it would be a good option to offer him a temporary home, at least until everything settles down" Bruce was skirting around his real intention, he really wanted to adopt him, but he felt it wasn't necessary for Jason to know that. "He'd have a safe place and rehabilitation" The term "rehabilitation" caught Jason's attention, who now had a confused expression. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"He, the child, has a string of violent crimes, has been involved in the planning of many crimes and a suspected murderer, he needs the proper treatment for that" The revelation didn't exactly shock Jason, but it did intrigue him. He knew you couldn't be left with just anyone, your old habits would be a problem, you had to stay with someone who could deal with all the violence you had inside you, someone who could understand your past.

"I know you're against adoption, Jason, but it's the best thing for him and this way you could continue to follow his improvement, I know how much you care about that" Bruce tried to convince Jason that it was the right decision, but Jason knew that regardless of his approval, Bruce would put you in his care "I agree that he needs rehabilitation, but I don't know if you're the right person for that, Bruce".

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Unfortunately I've specified the gender of the reader in this chapter, but if you want, I can change that.

Tag list: @lockofspades @anuttellaa @joudy78bes7er @anime-hair05 @amber-content @camilo-uwu @sparks0918 @redzluvvesage @drdoofenshmirtz124 @suninwalls

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nielnielnielniel · 9 days ago

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cinammon rolls and complications

Yandere Academic Rival x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Top student Elias Morin is used to coasting through school—until his academic rival collapses from overwork and he panics, accidentally kissing them while they're unconscious. Guilt-ridden and obsessed, he starts getting closer, only for them to declare war for the top spot… in what sounds suspiciously like a love confession. Now caught between rivalry and romance, Elias isn’t sure if he’s being challenged or courted—and he’s definitely losing his mind either way.

WC: 2,950

⚠️ Content Warnings: Non-consensual kiss (unconscious character), Obsessive behavior, Stalking (mild), Possessive/yandere themes, Unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Author's note: I love yearning and I think I might have overdone shit, soft stuff not much yandere more like blossoming yandere.

Elias Morin never really had a plan. No ambition, no grand dreams—just an easy habit of going with the flow. He wasn’t worried about the future; things always seemed to fall into place somehow. And if they didn’t, well, he could always fall back on his parents. Not that he was dependent—far from it. In fact, Elias had long entertained the idea of cutting ties and living on his own.

His parents weren’t bad people, just... emotionally absent. His mother, a neurosurgeon, and his father, a judge, were both too busy saving lives and deciding fates to spare time for dinners or deep talks. Maybe they felt guilty—if they did, they covered it with money and gifts. Elias didn’t mind. In fact, he took advantage of it. He quietly saved what they gave, building a small fund with the vague goal of starting a business someday. Anything to get him out of that cold, quiet house.

Over the years, Elias found a surprisingly profitable side hustle: doing other students’ work. Essays, theses, homework—he sold academic shortcuts to the lazy and the desperate, and he was good at it. Eventually, he saved enough to rent a modest apartment near his college. His parents barely asked questions. They gave some half-hearted advice, increased his allowance, and let him go.

He liked the freedom. Thank god he learned how to cook; otherwise, he would’ve starved his first night alone. His apartment was nothing fancy, but it was his. Quiet, safe, livable.

With a week left before the semester began, Elias was set on making the most of his remaining vacation days. The only part he hated about living alone? Taking the trash out.

He muttered curses under his breath as he trudged back upstairs, plastic bag swinging at his side. Living on the third floor wasn’t too bad—until something cold and sticky leaked from the trash and landed on his foot.

“God—!” Elias nearly jumped out of his skin. He gagged at the sensation, fighting the urge to throw the entire leg away. He let out a tired sigh and a yawn, stretching his limbs lazily before shoving his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie.

As he reached his floor, fishing out his keys, a scent drifted past him—warm, sweet, and nostalgic. Cinnamon rolls.

He paused.

That smell—fresh from the bakery just down the street—hit him like a punch to the stomach. He turned around instinctively, catching only a glimpse of someone already halfway down the stairs. The source of the scent was gone, leaving Elias with an empty hallway and a sudden, burning craving.

His stomach growled.

"...Damn," he muttered.

Soon enough, college began—and Elias dreaded the day from the moment he opened his eyes.

He walked down the campus halls with a heavy yawn and a lazy sigh, his uniform wrinkled and his tie hanging askew. He looked like he had slept in his clothes, rolled out of bed, and wandered into school by accident. The only thing saving him from total judgment were his annoyingly good looks: tousled brown hair, sharp features, and icy blue eyes that seemed almost too alert for someone half-asleep.

Elias stood out, even if he didn’t seem to care. He dragged his feet down the hallway, half-listening to the chatter around him, already regretting his life choices—when something slammed into his back.

Hard.

He staggered forward a step, but stayed upright—thankfully, he still exercised despite his sloth-like personality, or that impact might’ve floored him. Before he could react, a familiar scent hit him—sweet, warm, unmistakable. Cinnamon rolls.

His stomach growled on cue.

He turned around to find someone sitting on the floor, rubbing their head, surrounded by scattered books. You.

“Oh—uh, let me…” Elias muttered, crouching slightly to help. But maybe his voice was too soft, or maybe you were just that fast—because in a blur, you had already gathered your things like your life depended on it.

You blurted a rushed apology, then bolted, vanishing down the hallway and leaving Elias standing there—confused, still hungry, and blinking at the space where you’d just been.

“…Was that my neighbor?” he muttered under his breath.

Later that day, he found out your name. (Name), wasn’t it? A stroke of luck—or fate, maybe—you were in the same class.

Now seated at the back of the lecture hall, Elias watched as you sat in the front, furiously scribbling every word the professor said like your life depended on it. Your back was hunched over your notebook, posture tense with focus.

Elias leaned back in his chair and yawned. He briefly considered paying attention too... but that thought passed quickly.

Sleep tugged at him like an old friend, and before long, his head drooped, eyes fluttering shut.

Still, he couldn’t help but think—at least now he had a name to put to “cinnamon roll.”

A few weeks passed, and by now, everyone knew one thing about you—you took your studies seriously. Really seriously.

From the back row, Elias found himself watching again as you confidently answered yet another one of the professor’s questions. He didn't even catch the full context of the question, but he still felt a quiet, genuine sense of admiration. Internally, he gave you a slow clap.

He glanced down at his notebook. His pencil scratched lazily across the page, first forming doodles of cinnamon rolls, then stacks of books... and then, without even thinking, he started sketching your silhouette. The tilt of your head, the slope of your shoulders—his fingers moved almost on instinct.

Then he caught himself.

Whoa. What?

Elias blinked, staring at the outline of your figure, and quickly erased it. The page now a smudged mess.

He sighed, slumping forward to rest his chin in his hand. Must be the lack of sleep. Yeah. That had to be it.

His eyes drifted up again, settling on you at the front. Even from behind, you radiated focus. He watched you scribble something down with that signature urgency, and he didn’t even realize how long he’d been staring until the snickering beside him broke the trance.

“Did you see that? Such a nerd,” one student whispered with a chuckle, nudging the other.

Elias blinked. His ears perked up. Were they... talking about you?

For some reason, that annoyed him.

He turned to them, his blue eyes sharp and frosted over with irritation. “Hey. Shut up. Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here?”

His voice was calm, but it carried weight. Enough to shut them up instantly.

They looked away, startled, and mumbled an apology. Elias rolled his eyes and slouched deeper into his seat.

Idiots.

Honestly, if it weren’t for you answering every damn question, the professor would’ve forced the whole class into recitation by now. They should be thanking you.

And besides, nerds were cute.

He scoffed at the thought and looked out the window, trying to distract himself from the faint warmth spreading across his cheeks.

Just the lighting, he told himself.

Definitely not blushing.

A few more weeks passed, and Elias was certain of one thing: he was in hell.

With projects piling up and quizzes coming at them nonstop, he felt like he was barely surviving. He let out a heavy sigh as he slouched in his seat, dreading what was coming next—quiz results.

Though, if he thought about it, maybe he didn’t have much to worry about. That quiz had been surprisingly easy. He’d skimmed the material the night before, and most of it was straightforward.

Still, waiting for the results gave him that familiar, sinking feeling. He sat in his usual spot at the back of the classroom, tapping his pencil against the desk, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you.

He watched as the professor approached your desk, smiling as they handed you your paper.

“Excellent work, as always. Congratulations!” the teacher beamed.

Elias caught the slight sparkle in your eyes as you glanced down at the score. A small, proud smile curved your lips. He felt something tug at his own—he couldn’t help but smile, too.

Then the professor turned to him.

“Morin!” they said with a cheerful grin. “Perfect score. Well done—keep it up!”

The words felt almost too loud in the sudden hush that fell over the class. Elias hesitated, blinking as the paper was handed to him.

“Oh, uh… thanks,” he mumbled, his voice uncertain. As he lowered his gaze to the quiz, he could’ve sworn he felt your eyes on him—just for a second.

When class was dismissed, Elias took his time packing up, his mind still a little fuzzy from the praise. He reached for his notebook, but froze mid-motion.

There it was again.

That scent.

Cinnamon rolls.

He stopped, still as a statue, heart suddenly racing. Slowly, he looked up—and found himself face to face with you.

His breath hitched.

“Hey,” you said with a soft smile. “Congrats on the perfect mark.”

Elias stared, completely blank. His lungs forgot how to work, and his fingers went clammy against the straps of his bag.

Words. Where were the words?

“Hey?” you said again, eyebrows slightly raised in concern. “You alright?”

Your voice snapped him out of the daze. “Ah—yeah. Thanks,” he stammered. “You… you too. Congrats.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he hated it.

You gave him a curious look—somewhere between amused and confused—but said nothing else as you turned and walked out of the classroom.

Elias finally exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time. He slumped against his chair, the scent of cinnamon rolls still lingering in the air.

Apparently, cinnamon rolls weren’t the only thing you were leaving him craving.

After that encounter, Elias couldn’t seem to get you out of his mind. He was constantly thinking about you. When he fell asleep, he wondered if you were still awake. When he woke up, he hoped you were still asleep. While eating, he pondered if you liked to pour your milk before the cereal—like the psycho he is. On the train, he wondered if you took the same route he did. No matter what he was doing, his thoughts always drifted to you, and he couldn’t understand why.

It didn’t help that his feet unconsciously followed you from a safe distance. Where he once sat far away, now his seat was only four chairs from yours, still at the far back. During free moments, he usually ate in the canteen, but now he found himself reading a book on the creation of quantum physics, sitting just a few tables behind you in the library, his eyes discreetly on you as you studied and took notes.

In the time he had spent ‘following’ you—not in a stalking way, he assured himself—he learned more about you. You didn’t know how to tie your tie (he even watched videos to figure it out), you didn’t eat much, always grabbing a sandwich from the canteen and calling it a day, and most worryingly, you always overworked yourself. When he was desperate to see more of you, he even listened through the thin walls of his apartment to hear what you were up to. Through that, he found out you studied late into the night, and if you didn't stop, Elias was sure you'd burn out completely.

His fears were confirmed the day you fainted in the hallway: your breath heavy and shaky, your body feverishly hot. Swearing under his breath, Elias rushed to pick you up and hurriedly carried you to the nurse’s office. He watched anxiously as the nurse tended to you—placing a cool towel on your forehead and helping you take fever medicine. He finally relaxed when you looked somewhat better.

The nurse glanced at him and asked, “Are you the boyfriend?”

Elias blinked, caught off guard and stumbling over his words. Should he deny it? Accept it? “U—I guess so. Yeah, I am,” he nodded awkwardly.

The nurse raised a brow but said, “Okay, take care of them. They’ve been overworking themselves. I’ll get more medicine.” Elias nodded and found himself sitting beside your bed, unable to stop staring at you.

He couldn’t describe the fear he felt when you suddenly fainted while he was following you. He sighed deeply and looked at your closed eyes, trailing his gaze over your eyelashes, down to your nose, and finally to your lips. Your lips—they looked… nice.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, his body leaned in closer. You looked so peaceful, really so—had you always looked this cute? It wouldn’t hurt, right? He thought, as he softly pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle and smooth. Pulling away, Elias felt a little embarrassed because of his chapped lips. Maybe he should’ve bought lip balm after all.

He leaned in again, this time bolder, deepening the kiss. In the back of his mind, he screamed at himself for doing this without your consent. If you suddenly woke up to find your classmate—someone you barely knew—making out with you, what on earth would you do to him? But the bliss was too overwhelming to stop.

His tongue traced over your lips, tasting sweet—like strawberries on a hot summer day. He almost groaned as his face flushed deep red, his tongue exploring your mouth as if it were his. His… just the thought made him more flustered.

Suddenly, he felt a twitch in your facial expression. Panicking, he jerked back, finally bringing himself to his senses. Holy shit, he had just made out with you while you were unconscious. Clearly, you were about to wake up—he couldn’t risk being labeled a pervert. Red-faced, he dashed out of the room, swearing there was definitely a tent in his pants. Fuck.

When you eventually woke up, the nurse looked at you inquisitively. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

You raised an eyebrow. “B—boyfriend? I don’t have one.” Ignoring the nurse’s deadpan expression, you touched your lips lightly and wondered, What was that?

Ever since your fainting episode, your days had returned to normal—mostly.

Except for one thing: Elias Morin was suddenly everywhere.

He sat beside you in class now, greeting you every morning like it was second nature. He volunteered to be your partner for projects. He sat across from you in the library, sneaking you snacks under the table when the librarian wasn’t looking, whispering explanations when you furrowed your brows at a tough question.

You couldn't understand it. Elias Morin, your longtime academic rival—the boy who slept through class and still pulled perfect grades—was now practically glued to your side. And to make things even stranger, you’d recently discovered the two of you were neighbors.

You went to school together now. You went home together, too.

As the two of you walked side by side down the familiar street toward your apartment building, your eyes narrowed, trailing over Elias’ profile. He looked too casual. Too relaxed. Too shady.

You clenched your fists. It had always pissed you off how he managed to ace everything without breaking a sweat. He barely even participated in group work, yet always got an A. Meanwhile, you poured your soul into every assignment, every lecture, every line of every textbook—and he still came out on top.

Your stare intensified.

Elias felt it. God, he felt it. The weight of your gaze made his skin burn. He could feel sweat forming at the back of his neck. His face flushed a light pink as he glanced away, pretending to look at something in the distance.

His thoughts were racing.

Do they know?

Did they find out? Did they feel it—that kiss?

He nearly gasped. What if they’re reading my mind?

His heart thudded painfully as he tried to banish the very thoughts that now began bubbling up—scandalous, shameful thoughts of you that made his blood rush downward. He swallowed hard, shaking his head like it would help.

You looked at him in alarm. “W—What’s wrong with you?”

Elias flinched. “N—Nothing. Why?”

You narrowed your eyes, voice turning sharp. “You’re acting suspicious. Why are you suddenly being this nice to me?”

He gulped. “What do you mean? We’re neighbors now...”

You stopped walking. He froze in step too, instinctively.

Then, without warning, you closed the distance, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him down to eye level.

Your gaze locked with his, fierce and unwavering. “If this is some sort of game to catch me off guard, I won't allow it.”

“You’ve had the spotlight long enough, Elias,” you said, voice low and heated. “I’ve studied every answer you’ve ever given. Traced every step you’ve taken to the top.”

Elias blinked, mouth slightly open, breath caught.

“And now?” you continued. “I’m coming for you. I won’t stop until I’m standing where you are—above everyone else… above you.”

Your grip on his collar tightened. Your next words came softer, yet sharper—cutting straight through him.

“And when that day comes, I want you to look at me and realize—no one’s ever chased you this hard. Not for glory. Not for pride. But because I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Elias could only malfunction.

His brain short-circuited. His face burned red down to his collarbone. His hands twitched awkwardly by his sides. His knees nearly buckled.

And worse—God, worse—he was sporting another damn tent in his slacks.

The air was thick with the scent of cinnamon rolls. His nose twitched. His lips parted. His thoughts screamed in confusion:

Was that a love confession?!

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archivesainz · 2 years ago

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he hit me but felt like a kiss. 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ cs55

. . . Carlos likes to take care of young women like you !

genre: dark carlos, smoking, age gap (10 years), smut, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' and another’s, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, daddy kink, creampie, cheating (not with carlos x reader) and i can’t think more.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader.

a/n: I think this is a good way to start the account, asks, comments and likes are always welcome. english is NOT my first language, google translate.

I'M SORRY FOR WAITING ALL THIS TIME! I hope you all like it, happy new year!

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━

The waves of the beach were calming, you could already see the sun rise and its orange colours appear in the middle of the whitish sky. You did this a few times, when life disappointed you and you had to put up with it; you looked at your cell phone and the time marked '5:55', you laughed remembering the signs about looking at the “angel’s numbers”.

You get up, walking to your house that was not far away and try to enter without making noise, going up to your room and sinking into your bed to sleep a few hours before college.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━

You met him in a bar, he bought you a drink and you talked. On the dance floor he glued his body to yours and danced until you accepted the invitation to go to his house.

Now you're getting into his fancy and stuck car, and he's taking you home.

His icy hands came into contact with yours hot thigh, a junction of ice and fire, you felt anxious not only to be going to the house of a guy you met an hour ago, but also to the fact that your hand seems to rise more and more. You wanted to, but you wouldn't say, he also wanted and wouldn't say so he decides to start his game, you confess to yourself that choosing a skirt was a good choice, easy access and no winding. But no, he liked to get the most out of you, instigate you until you were begging him to stop, you didn't ask his age but assumed that he was over 20 years old. You laugh to yourself because you're going to fuck an older guy.

"Sorry to ask... how old are you?" You say it in such a soft voice that it makes it squeeze in the car seat.

"Thirty-two... why the question? Don't you like older guys?" He says, sarcastic with his elbow resting on the car door.

10 years. 10 years of difference between you, that's not bad, right?

"I like it, I love learning new things with experienced people."

He smiles on his side, lightly squeezing your thigh and slowly sneaking into your wet core. You sigh strongly, you are sure he heard and must be smiling while you close your eyes strongly the hand that was on your thighs disappears.

"Do you mind?" He says with a cigarette in his hand and a dark look.

You do it with no with your head and hear the noise of the lighter and the smell of the cigarette inhaling your nostrils. While he puts the hand that was the cigarette back on the steering wheel and touches its your core again, it is light and dirty his touches make you want more, want more from him and his body, he was driving you crazy.

You hold the door when he presses his fingers there, you let out a needy sigh and he smiles, you see that he stops the car and can see the dark house with lights that were mostly yellow he gets out of the car like a real rider opens the door for you and holds your hand to get out of the car.

"Welcome, princess." He speaks seriously as he walks with you to the entrance and throws the end of the cigarette in a nearby trash can.

His hands quickly go to your body when you enter his house, the begging and needy lips were filled with kisses with a taste of drink and cigarettes. His beard gently passed through your skin, and gave you shiver more and more as you went up to his room, his eyes did not leave your body, your skin, your curves and your ass.

You smile when he takes you in his lap and gently puts you on the bed, climbing on top of you and occasionally pressing your erection on your dressed pussy, involuntarily your hips push themselves up looking for more and you hear his low laugh.

"In a hurry, Cariño?" He asks, not taking his lips off your neck. "We have all the time in the world."

Carlos can't help it. He loses control, and passes the kisses to your lips again, and then to your still covered breasts. He's really attenuated by you. Your body is hot, and it looked like it was going to explode like a volcano.

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He grabbed your neck as if it were fucking nothing for him and saw you widen your eyes even more, your fingers looking for some way to undo that touch that took his breath away. After all, everything was still very young.

"You want to act like a whore as if you know what you're doing... But you don't know, my love, you don't know nothing." - Smiling with mockery he whispered against his little mouth and then went to attack his reddish and swollen lips from so many bites.

You moaned tearfully squeezing yours legs even more against the larger body, feeling the man suck your lip in a hungry and hot way; he was hot. Carlos kissed you as if life depended on that and feeling your mouth trying to accompany him left him on the edge of the abyss. If you were the prize at the end of the abyss he would certainly play headlong. Carlos grunted hoarsely as he sucked your tongue, feeling your taste mixed with the cherry of the gloss and it was to lose the reins, he could not be judged. The man then raised his hands around your waist to yours breasts again, squeezing the small mounds covered by the fabric.

His reaction was to grung soft in the middle of the kiss and squeeze his fingers in Carlos' straight and hydrated hair. You begged for everything that was more sacred that throbbing sensation between his legs would relieve the fastest. Carlos then left your lips with a slight suck on your bottom, listening to yours sly grunt and aiming at your eyes shining together with his pink cheeks.

"Take off these clothes for me, take them off... - He whispered hoarsely, breathing heavily as yours squeezed from your feet covered by your socks to yours thighs.

Promptly you obeyed, with those huge bright eyes so reduced before that man between your legs. You took off your clothes burning in horniness and shyness, he already felt Carlos' property and this feeling was indescribably delicious. You exposed yours sumped tits to him and saw him almost salivate, and like a wolf he advanced. The right arm took her by the waist hard, pulling against her big and stiff body, making you feel all the hot erection inside the social pants. She sighed loudly with the grip and can't help but moan when he started a surreal suction on her skin, sucking as if it were the best candy in the world.

"Oh- my god... Fuck.. So good..."

You begged with your virginal aura so strong, shaking against it while he felt him trim it easily, firmly in one arm only, sucking and sucking on your chest as if it were vital to him and maybe it really was. His whining made him disturbed, crazy, completely out of his mind and could eat you right there. Actually, he couldn't, but he wanted to. Fuck the rest, he would go.

Carlos could be patient after all, he was just tasting as much as he could, making the most of your beautiful naivety and this was like an impulse directly on his hardened and painful cock, there so trapped under tissues.

"My beautiful doll... It's so nice to suck on these beautiful tits of yours..". Whispered between one snap and another with his feedings, where Carlos knew well what to do to leave you at the apex of hypersensitivity.

He smiled like the scoundrel he was and looked at you as he dropped his sore chest in one last suck or almost bite. He removed your lip between your teeth with his thumb and advanced with his tongue in your little mouth, kissing and stimulating you to the almost apex. You felt his sighs and breaths, losing your little head with every rude touch of it.

You was completely lost, Carlos was sure you were dripping, and he could confirm by putting his hand between the fabric of those panties, right in your center feeling your pussy completely hot and totally soaked. Holding on his shoulder, he grunted aiming at the act, yours red cheeks denounced your lack of imminent experience and that was the end of it.

He was so fucking big. You lost your breath with the man's firm hands removing everything that covered your body, dropping it on your feet, feeling exposed and at such a disadvantage when he was fully dressed. Your mouth salivated and your cheeks pinched when he saw the tent formed on Carlos' pants and wondered if it hurt as much as it did.

You took the liberty of touching there, insinuating himself indirectly and even without knowing it squeezed the piece of meat, feeling the hardness and how hot and pulsating his cock could be. She swallowed and aimed at him from that position, smiling naughty and curious watching Carlos return his smile as he kissed your little mouth and grabbed your cheek once again.

"Slut... You're getting well trained. Is this what you want, hm? - The big hand landed on yours and squeezed the cock the way you liked it, while waiting for your answer. "Answer you shameless whore! - Roughly forced the touch on your cheek and saw you whine.

"Yes! Yes...yes... I need to...— you squeezed your legs to each other trying to placate that frustrating situation of your pussy and saw him laugh, laugh in complete debauchery and excitement. Carlos loved to see you as a doll that he could clog with cum, that was the truth.

"Daddy will do whatever you want and will put up with everything like a good girl."

Carlos squeezed his own member in his pants and ordered hoarsely; "On all fours, open it well and lifts up to me."

You didn't want to wait, so you promptly went up on the bed with red cheeks and loapy eyes, swallowing in dry when you were on all fours close to the edge of the bed, opening as you could your little legs, procing your tail well towards him. Your entrances totally exposed and melated. Dripping demonstrated the power of man over your body.

Carlos without wasting any more time, which was all they didn't have, opened his belt and saw you retract only with the noise, leaning on his little hands he guided you to support yours elbows arching your spine as much as possible with the palm of his hand there, opening your little legs as it should be, almost grunting when he saw you so open to him.

"Shhh.. this, that way, daddy will prove it to you first, and you won't keep your sounds for yourself, will you?" He whispered with a false condolence and almost deceived you, because his naivety was such that he came to believe in that asshole. "This beautiful little bitch... That..." He caressed your entire prancing back and saw you sigh nervously, anxious almost biting your own forearm and all he did was smile.

He smiled arrogantly before running his finger between your folds and feeling the humidity. "Shit... so wet for me." He whispered to himself that you almost didn't hear him, and sighed in need by the contact.

Without warning you felt his nose touch your moist mound and his mouth suck your sensitive clit, you moaned loudly and you are sure you felt you smile while sucking you. His tongue made smooth and slow movements, which made you delirious and ask for more.

It was the best pussy he had tasted in his life and he was addicted. Carlos was a rotten man. You no longer knew how to differentiate between your own moisture and his saliva, he was making a mess on you and you love it.

He spent time savoring your taste and widening you with both his fingers, preparing you for his cock. You felt your stomach tighten and the moans get stronger, until the sensations in your core stop.

He smiled scoundrel before fitting his swollen head against your recently deflowered little entrance, squeezing your cute hips he forced himself inside, without mercy he buried every thick and pulsating centimeter, gasping loudly with every tight and resistance that his warm interior gave him.

"Fuck... I'll destroy you and you'll ask for more."

He forced your hips well, at the right angle to destroy you and invade your most intimate corner and watched you growl tearfully, perhaps with hot tears in your little eyes and your hand trying to push him away every inch. The man's big hands wandered from your tense little legs to your waist and the curve was divine, his palm fit almost perfectly.

"That's a lot...! Carlos... Daddy!" - You begged him to practically growl and put everything inside.

It was so big and the position didn't help, but it was perfect for him. You completely felt how he stretched you from the inside.

"Holy shit... how small it is, princess... So tight, mi amor..." And he caught you like a damn dog, clinging to your beautiful little body hit your hips under him, the heavy balls were felt by you and your hand went up to his hair, taking everything out there. "Perfect for me..." kissed your sweaty shoulder.

How would you get away with that? You had no idea, You just wanted to be eaten. Fucked up. Ruined.

Carlos and you could feel his cock hitting directly on your stomach and it was a surreal thing the way it filled you and opened you like that. Stunning. Your bitch moans delivered everything.

"Tell me..." he took your hair off your little face again, even in that position because he had a free pass for his whole body, regardless of how he caught you. "You like to feel my dick here, don't you?" He stocked up and heard you practically scream, covering your mouth in order to control your volume he laughed nicely in your ear, giving you goosebumps. "Speak... Speak that you like it when daddy hits you right here... What's up, bitch..." He forced himself and pressed your limit, watching you cry and stay completely away, dumb, delivered, having to literally hold you.

"I like it..! I like it so much, Daddy!" You begged out of herself, possessed by the absurd pleasure she felt. "Please...!"

Carlos stocked you willingly, with strength and it was nice, the melty noises were possible to be heard every time he buried and came back just to mistreat you again a little more.

"Daddy is giving you what he asked for, princess... relax your pussy, hm?" It was a theater because he loved the tension and every time he drove you crazy and felt you squeeze it all in there; so warm and humid.

"Daddy..! Daddy, please... I feel... I..."

"Daddy.. I... I... my God!" You was coming and couldn't stand it, squirmed all over and squeezed Carlos as if he wanted to expel him from there because you was so sensitive.

The tears slipped and the man held you firmly in place, grunting with the squeeze and whispering a sequence of "shh" in your ear.

"That... that... good girl... beautiful girl... So beautiful... It looks beautiful all the dumb cock like that... it came so tasty, my pretty..." He whispered as he filled the side of your sweaty little face with kisses, red as he loved to see; devastated.

You accelerated breathing and low eyes delivered that she was no longer in this world and that orgasm was overwhelming, her legs were honeyed with her honey and Carlos buried in her place left her with her nerves the flower of her skin. He grunted when he was picked up and malled like a little doll, feeling him more deeply, if possible, leaning his hands somewhere seeking relief from that extravagant feeling of being full; Carlos had sat her on his lap, and her little feet barely touched the floor. She was so small.

"Now it's Daddy's turn." Whispering in the middle of his dirty smiles Carlos made you jump, like a doll.

And he did everything, made her go up and down and her contained whining showed how sensitive she was, tears flowed and her honey also went down the man's throbbing cock, making a mess. He growled in your ear every time he impaled you on his own cock, demonstrating how close he was.

He saw in the mirror her destroyed image and how easy it bounced on the man's lap, soft and fucked. Completely fucked up, both the body and the mind. Her poor mind, all there was in her was him.

He was beautiful, big and strong, the reflection of the mirror showed how beautiful he looked as he pursued his own orgasm, eyes closed or semi-closed, lips between his teeth beautiful and frowning as he growled and growled in his ear and neck. Drops of sweat adorned his face.

Carlos' big and voracious hands ran all over you sensitive body, squeezing where he could and where he couldn't. He stopped on the inside of his thighs and raised them as if it were nothing, now pushing his hip willingly; he would cum.

"Fuck...! Fuck, mi amor..." And then he came, filling you with will and strength, so much shit that he seemed to be keeping it all to yourself, all this time.

He moaned or whimpered, she doesn't know, when you felt the whole heat hitting the cervix of your uterus, filling you in absurd levels; it was absurd. A fucking good feeling.

He smiled as he came down from his height and took a deep breath like someone looking to recover. Carlos raised his hip giving you the whole view of him buried in there and went right there, that was the point.

"See? Do you feel that? That's me. It's my fucking dick all inside you, hard as fuck..." Whispering against your cheek he spread his hand against the beautiful relief that was in your belly and you felt the tears flow in the mountains; that was surreal.

You spasmed like the good sensitive little whore you are, almost melting right there with the vision of that volume inside yourself. How could you stand all that? It was being destroyed little by little and that was exciting. You tipped your head on Carlos' shoulder and stirred dencosa, grunting when she felt too stimulated.

It was all too much, everything in Carlos for you was too much.

You hid your face in the curve of the man's neck, or at least tried, aiming from there at Carlos' ring finger; a fucking ring shone in pure gold.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━

a/n: As I said, English is NOT my first language so if there is something confused or wrong please tell me!

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #im going crazy #smut #i need him #sorry not really sorry #carlos sainz

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