#and I was on a trash island right

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Help help help I had a fnaf dream that actually fucked me up

[valdeswan]

"Fuck it we ball"

-Cale when everything goes south, probablly

[bleeping-cartoon]

"just put it in his shoe or something"

[rillette]

Pretty boy! Everyone you draw is so pretty lmao

TYSM!!! That's very sweet of you to say! T^T <3 <3 <3

[semiotomatics]

researching the anatomy of the lower back/pelvis/legs/feet to try to figure out what the FUCK is causing my sciatica bc dear GOD am i in agony rn

[kinsey3furry300]

Dear America,

If you could not give us all anxiety every two years, that would be really swell. Yours, The rest of the world.

[karomiiz]

Not even gonna lie I’m like unironically excited for the Barbie movie

[diejager]

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention. 

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes. 

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument. 

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body. 

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail. 

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him. 

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight. 

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours. 

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures. 

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you. 

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home. 

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him. 

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him. 

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much. 

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty. 

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind. 

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition. 

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to. 

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition. 

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you. 

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live. 

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much. 

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures. 

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room. 

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making. 

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal. 

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue. 

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave. 

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him. 

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying. 

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh. 

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back. 

“You’re happy, ja?”

Next

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan 

[leviathanspain]

Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!

my body is a cage

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..

a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.

“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.

you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”

johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”

katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.

“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”

they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.

“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.

suddenly the island began to spin.

your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.

you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.

you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.

finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.

“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”

there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.

finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.

“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.

you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.

finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”

finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”

“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.

“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.

“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.

finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.

finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.

he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.

it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.

“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”

there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”

your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.

“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.

“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”

finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.

“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”

johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744

‘is he okay?’ 

‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’ 

‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used. 

‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’ 

‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.

tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.

seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’ 

‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.

‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’ 

‘hmmn?’ 

‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’

it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.

‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.

‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.

‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.

‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’

he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.

‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.

‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.

‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.

‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’

‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.

‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’

there’s a moment of silence.

‘not it’

‘not it!’

you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag II (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

~

“Why was JJ even trying to give you some drink, anyway?”

You resisted the urge to sigh, anticipating such a question the moment the topic had swung back around to the party from last week. You kept your gaze on your lip gloss, dipping it once then twice before looking up into the mirror. You could hear Rafe pause in his movements, no doubt waiting for an answer, and this time you finally did heave a breath.

“I don’t know, Rafe. I told you this,” you said to him, turning to look at him as he sat on the edge of his bed.

You watched him study you, that blue gaze of his oh so unnerving, and you weren’t the least bit relieved when he simply hummed.

“I know,” he finally replied, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “…but I have a right to wonder. Especially since you’ve never spoken to him a day in your life before that night.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to swipe the sticky product over your lips, recalling that it was one of Rafe’s favorite shades. The conversation had the potential to slip into dangerous territory, derailing your entire night, and you mulled over your next words carefully.

“He was probably just trying to get a rise out of you,” you honestly murmured, looking at your boyfriend. “…and it worked.”

You merely shrugged at him as he scoffed.

“I mean, he’s way more familiar with you than me. Probably just wanted to piss you off.”

You turned the light off in his bathroom, making your way towards your shoes as you desperately hoped this conversation would come to an end soon. The topic of other men was one that rarely ended nonviolently, and you didn’t know how Rafe got it into his head that the antics of JJ Maybank had anything to do with you when everyone on this entire island knew how much they hated each other. A year ago, you barely even knew the other blonde’s name.

“Well, it worked,” Rafe confessed, coming over to help you put on your other shoe. “You’re too good to even be talking to trash like that, so yeah. It pissed me off.”

At the look on your face, Rafe continued, shaking his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you really don’t need to go around feeling sorry for guys like that. He’s not the down on his luck kid you think he is,” he advised, pulling you to your feet. “Him and all of Sarah’s little buddies are nothing but trouble.”

Rafe took his time telling you this, making sure you heard every word, and you only felt compelled to nod as he placed a brief kiss on your lips. Rafe swiped up your purse for you as he pulled you out of the room. You felt safer with Rafe in his house than you did in your own, but Ward’s careful eye on his son had never been foolproof. There’d been plenty of times Rafe gave you a sprained wrist or bruised jaw in his very own bedroom.

It's just that in his desire to be more careful within the Cameron household, he sometimes decided that it wasn’t even worth it.

“Where are you two off to?” Sarah wondered as you came face to face with her in the living room.

You hadn’t even known she was home, and when it became clear that Rafe wasn’t going to answer her, you did.

“To a movie.”

The smile you sent her was small, and she reluctantly returned it before settling her gaze on her brother. You didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed, lips pursing a tad. They never got along, but considering recent events, you knew what this particular disagreement was about to be about.

“JJ’s nose is still pretty messed up, you know.”

At that, Rafe did finally acknowledge her, stopping to face her with a challenging look you knew all too well. He tilted his head to the side, one brow raised.

“That sounds like something that isn’t my problem,” he shrugged, and you softly told him that you needed to go in an attempt to avoid whatever this was, but he ignored you.

“God, you’re such an asshole, you know that? JJ just offered your girlfriend a drink and so you broke his nose? Yeah, ‘cause that makes sense,” Sarah murmured, shaking her head as she looked back down at her phone.

You squeezed Rafe’s arm, but he merely sneered at his sister.

“JJ’s a little shit who likes to look for trouble wherever he goes. Not my fault he found it,” Rafe spat, pulling you along before Sarah could reply.

His quiet disposition and tight grip on your hand told you how annoyed he was at Sarah’s reminder of JJ and that night, and you mentally wondered if this was going to be a little thing or something that affected your whole night. Maybe even the next one too. He said nothing when he helped you into his truck, and so you were unsurprised that he was quiet his whole way to the movie too.

You were thankful this was the date of choice because it was easier to ignore Rafe’s mood when your eyes were glued to the screen. In fact, there were moments you forgot he was even there, giggling to whatever was going on in front of you. Once the movie was over, however, Rafe’s uncharacteristic silence was hard to ignore.

Knowing that you’d regret it, you finally spoke up when you made it back to his truck.

“I feel like you’re mad at me for some reason.”

It sounded silly to your ears, but then again, you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, and as little sense as it made, you had the sneaking suspicion that he put some blame with you somehow.

“Not mad,” he murmured, and you simply looked at him.

His gaze and the tightness in his jaw said otherwise, and despite his evident annoyance, he still claimed otherwise. He was silent as he opened your door—his irritation growing the longer you stared at him—and when he blinked, straightening, you finally slid inside. You weren’t surprised to have the door slammed in your face, and you could only sigh when he joined you.

The first few minutes of the drive were as quiet as before, but when Rafe finally cracked, you could only close your eyes.

“Why did you even want to go that night, anyway?” he bitterly chuckled.

You turned to look out of the window with a defeated heave of your shoulders, swallowing.

“You’ve never wanted to go before, and even then, some bonfire on the beach isn’t your thing. You go to house parties with pools and prissy bitches who don’t want to get their hair wet,” he sneered, making you look at him. “Yeah, JJ might’ve wanted to piss me off, but it was you he chose to do it through.”

“So…what…? It’s my fault? I should’ve never gone with you, is that what you’re saying?”

You frowned at him when he glanced at you, dirty blond hair kissing his forehead, and Rafe’s silence spoke volumes. Against your will, you felt your throat tightening, and you were unsurprised when tears kissed your eyes. You hated crying in front of Rafe.

“I just wanted to go, Rafe. I’d never been, and…it’s not like I have any friends to go with anymore. Would you have rather I’d gone alone?”

“Don’t be cute,” he threw at you, tossing you a scathing look. “You wouldn’t even get the chance to try.”

You huffed, looking away from him as he continued, watching the trees fly by.

“Besides, I thought we both agreed that your friends were catty airheads who you didn’t need to be around,” Rafe firmly said. “You have better friends, now.”

“Those are your friends,” you sighed. “…and I know because they barely talk to me. I’m just your girlfriend who’s supposed to stand there and look pretty.”

Those last words came out in a murmur, but Rafe heard them loud and clear.

“You’d have nothing to complain about if you didn’t ask to go in the first place.”

His words made your frown deepen, and despite what you wanted, a few tears escaped. You looked at him in disbelief, although, you didn’t know why. You should’ve been perfectly used to the words that came out of his mouth, sometimes, now.

“What am I supposed to do, Rafe?” you cried. “Just sit in my room, twiddling my thumbs until you come back?”

When he looked at you, he rolled those blue eyes of his, a scoff leaving his perfect lips.

“I don’t have time for the antics, tonight,” he breathed.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“You started it,” you pointed out.

You knew that you were already on thin ice, you could tell, but when Rafe cut his eyes back to you, your heart skipped a beat. You watched your boyfriend swipe his tongue between his lips, slowly nodding as he looked back at the road.

“Okay…” the truck started to slow as he inhaled. “Yeah, okay.”

You felt the hairs on your arms stand on end as he stopped in the middle of the road. It was late, so it wasn’t like the roads of Kildare County were littered with traffic, but it still made you nervous, nonetheless. You watched Rafe turn the truck off, and before you could say anything he was looking at you.

“Get out.”

His words made you blink, lips parting before snapping them shut.

“…what?”

One of Rafe’s arms leaned on the steering wheel while his other hand rested behind your headrest. Even in the darkness, there was a glint in his eyes that told you he was completely serious despite the insanity of the request. The atmosphere in the truck felt so tense—thick with it—and you pulled your lip between your teeth when Rafe leaned in, gaze cold and mocking.

“You said I started it? Well, now I’m finishing it. Get the fuck out of my truck,” Rafe quietly spat at you, making you flinch.

An incredulous bark of a laugh escaped you.

“Rafe, it’s the middle of the night, are you crazy?”

At your refusal to do what he asked, he merely turned away, opening his door. Your heart fell to your stomach as you watched him hurry to your side, yanking the door open and proceeding to yank you too.

“Rafe! What the hell-?”

Your words were cut off as you were forced to stumble out of the vehicle and into the road—without your purse. When he roughly shoved you away, you tripped over your own feet, hissing in pain as you barely caught yourself on your hands. Rafe was already back in his truck by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, and in shock, you watched him start it up. You’d only just reached the handle of the door when he sped off, and you screamed his name after him in a mix of fear and anger.

You couldn’t even really focus on the knowledge that you were in the middle of an empty stretch of road in the middle of the night. You were too angry and annoyed to, and with a sob, you pressed your face into your hands. You sniffed, wiping your face before wrapping your arms around yourself and looking around.

You knew that trying to go toe to toe with Rafe even just a little could prove to be disastrous. You just desperately wanted him to understand that all you had was him. With no friends and no social life outside of him, Rafe was all you had, and you weren’t the bad guy for simply wanting to go to a party with him. You knew he knew this though, so you didn’t even know why you bothered, but you just hated to be blamed for something JJ Maybank did solely because he and Rafe hated each other.

You were merely a tool in the incident.

Rafe was so childish sometimes, so this little display of anger shouldn’t have surprised you. Even still, your nerves were on end as you started to walk down the road. Like you’d thought earlier, there was no traffic in sight, and truthfully, nothing in Outer Banks was that far from anything else, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

You wiped your face again, but fresh tears just fell.

It was cold, and while your jacket kept you from shaking, this still wasn’t the kind of weather to be walking down the street in. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried, debating with yourself if you wanted to just keep walking towards your house or try your chances with getting sympathy from some stranger. You knew what Rafe would prefer—and you knew what was statistically safer—but something in you wanted to piss him off further.

After all, he was the one who threw a tantrum and put you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Something in you was desperate to teach him a lesson, and you genuinely wondered what Rafe would do if you just…never came home. You wanted to see the look on his face when your parents called him asking if he’d seen you. However, something in you told you that he wouldn’t be as stricken as you’d think.

This was the same man who threatened to kill you on several occasions.

…but that was different.

That had always been when you tried to leave or even made him think you would leave. That was always said as a promise to make you stay, and even worse, that was when your demise would be at his hands. Rafe wouldn’t get the same satisfaction from leaving you to the mercy of the elements and strangers in the middle of the night.

You were just wiping more tears away when you could see headlights coming from the other end of the road. You weren’t on that side, so you weren’t all that concerned, and despite your earlier bleak thoughts, you actually didn’t relish getting in some stranger’s car and hoping he was honest enough to just take you where you needed to go.

However, your heart did sink a little when it became clear the vehicle was slowing down.

…but your worry morphed into irritation when you recognized the truck.

Rolling your eyes, you merely kept walking as Rafe slowed down enough to have a conversation with you. Or at least attempt to, anyway. You didn’t look at him, swallowing and keeping your tearful eyes straight ahead as you walked.

“Baby, get in the truck.”

“Why?” you wondered with a shrug. “You’re the one who kicked me out.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you heard him mumble. “Y/N, get in the truck.”

Against your better judgement, you ignored him, and Rafe stopped reversing to put the vehicle in park. You picked up your pace when you heard his door open, but Rafe was faster, and you could only attempt to pull away when he roughly grabbed your arm. Yanking you towards him, Rafe didn’t hesitate to push you against the side of the truck, making you wince.

His hold was so tight on your arm, and you shrank away from him when he pressed his nose to yours. His chest and shoulders were heaving, so you knew that he was beyond annoyed, now, but the stubborn part of you that reared its ugly head sometimes only stared back at him with trembling lips.

“I really don’t have time for this, tonight,” he whispered. “Get in the fucking truck, so we can go home.”

“You kicked me out! You go home…and I’ll just walk,” you tearfully spat, attempting to get out of his hold. “It’s what you wanted, anyway.”

Rafe’s impatience was bleeding through as you tried to get past him. One of his arms secured itself around your waist, the other gripping your arm as you attempted to grab that one. You were a mess of limbs and tears as you begged him to let go of you, Rafe’s low voice telling you to get it together.

You weren’t surprised when you found yourself harshly thrown to the ground.

You cried out when your chin bounced off of the pavement, unable to stop your fast descent in time. You heard Rafe curse from above you as a loud sob escaped, and you reached up to touch your chin, attempting to push yourself up. Rafe—in his haste—beat you to it though, grabbing you and forcing you to your feet. You could feel wetness on your chin as he forced you to the passenger side, quite literally shoving you into the truck.

You flinched when he slammed the door shut, tearful gaze focused on the glove compartment as he angrily joined you. When he told you to put on your seatbelt, you reluctantly did with trembling fingers, a choked cough escaping as you tried to stop crying. You couldn’t.

Rafe didn’t say a word to you the whole way back to his house, but you could feel his gaze on you every now and then. He didn’t turn on the radio, the only sound in the vehicle was that of your harsh wails. When he finally did stop in his yard, you both sat there for some time before a long sigh reached your ears.

“You know how I get,” you eventually heard him say. “You know I wouldn’t just…leave you out there.”

You didn’t say anything because you had nothing to say. You heard him shift, and you flinched again when the tips of his fingers grazed your face, his other hand coming up to gently take your chin. Turning you to face him, you watched his blue eyes roam over your face, taking in your tearful cheeks and bloody chin.

“I’m sorry.”

Not only was it something you’d heard a million times before, but you also knew that it was solely in reference to your face. Rafe wasn’t apologizing for kicking you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Why would he apologize for that when he felt that was justified? When you said nothing in response, he opted for getting out, and when he opened your door, you hesitated before taking his offered hand.

Once you were standing before him, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him. You felt him press his lips into your hair, deeply inhaling. He quietly apologized again, and his words hung in the air as you knew what he wanted. Sniffling, you nodded.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It was an accident.”

It wasn’t…because even if Rafe hadn’t explicitly tried to make you bleed, he had intended to hurt you. In these moments, in the aftermath of whatever else Rafe did, it was so easy to think to yourself that you’d leave him. It was almost too easy to hype yourself up, but then you’d think about how it felt to be on the receiving end of that emotionless stare, dead eyes gazing back at you. You’d think about the fear you’d feel whenever his hand was round your neck.

…or the feel of the barrel of a gun in your mouth.

It was so easy until you remembered that Rafe would actually kill you, and you’d learned a long time ago that Rafe wasn’t one to bluff.

You were making something to eat when you heard someone coming down the stairs, and when you glanced up, you weren’t surprised to make eye contact with Sarah. You knew she was home, and you’d heard her friends downstairs not too long ago. You surmised that they were outside waiting for her judging by her state of undress.

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little startled to see you. “I didn’t know you were still here. Where’s Rafe?”

She glanced towards the stairs, and you confirmed her suspicions that he was indeed gone.

“He went to the club with Kelce and Topper.”

You gave her a shrug, answering her silent question.

“I didn’t really feel like going.”

It wasn’t a lie, but you also knew that even if you did feel like going, it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. The last time you went to the country club with Rafe, it didn’t exactly end the best. Running into some of his more casual friends had apparently sparked a conversation that you unfortunately bore the brunt of. It amazed you, really, how Rafe wanted both an attractive girlfriend his friends could envy him for while also losing his mind if said friends dared to say it.

“Oh,” she said again, a little more dejected this time.

Your attention was focused on your food, so you didn’t even realize Sarah was still lingering about until she spoke again.

“We’re going to the beach,” she suddenly blurted out, and you’d guessed as much at the sight of her bikini top. “You should come with us.”

At that you paused, giving her a questionable look that conveyed exactly what you were thinking. Sarah sighed, dropping her bag to the floor before nearing you with a roll of her eyes.

“I know that we’re not friends,” she slowly started, scrunching her face. “…but you’ve been dating my brother for like, what, two years?”

You glanced down at that.

“…and…I know it’s not my place, but you just seem lonely sometimes,” she hurried to continue when your gaze met hers. “I mean, I never really see you do anything that doesn’t involve Rafe. At least, not anymore.”

You swallowed at that.

“Come on, he’s at the stupid country club with his friends, and you’re just waiting for him to get back. Surely, you can’t like that.”

Sarah was more right than she knew, but you swallowed that down.

“I told you, Sarah, I didn’t want to go. I’m fine just hanging out here. I like being at your house,” you chuckled.

Sarah looked like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. However, she did eye you though with a look you couldn’t place, and you sent her a reassuring smile as you grabbed your plate.

“You guys have fun,” you encouraged, touching her arm on your way past her.

You wondered how pathetic you’d become if your boyfriend’s younger sister was extending a hesitant offer of friendship. Granted, it wasn’t like she was outside your age group or anything, because she wasn’t, but the other circumstances surrounding your relationship just made it seem sad on your end. Your boyfriend’s little sister wanted to make up for how her brother treated you, and it was laughable in the worst way.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the hallway bathroom door opening, and you sharply inhaled as you almost quite literally ran into the last person you ever expected to see in the Cameron household. Now, you understood why Sarah had been worriedly eyeing the stairs as she asked if Rafe was home.

JJ Maybank looked just as startled to see you, but he recovered quicker than you did.

“Sorry,” you rushed out, breaking eye contact and moving to get past him.

You slowed when you recalled your brief glance at his face, guilt eating at you at the bruising that was still faint around the area of his nose. Briefly pressing your fingers to your forehead, you turned around, a little shocked to find the blond already staring at you. That discovery gave you pause, but you quickly pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

You watched him raise his brows at you, but JJ otherwise said nothing, and so you elaborated.

“About your nose,” you told him, and JJ nodded in understanding. “Sure, you were being…a bit of a jerk, but Rafe shouldn’t have done that.”

At your words, you watched something flicker over his features, and the corner of his lips curved upwards just enough to be noticeable.

“You thought I was being an asshole,” he pointed out, and you snorted.

“I didn’t say that-.”

“…but it’s what you meant,” he slowly interrupted, stepping towards you.

You took note of the action, frowning a bit before glancing away.

You knew that Rafe would throw you down the stairs for even looking at JJ Maybank, let alone having a full-blown conversation with him, but the polite manner in which you’d been raised wouldn’t let you walk by the guy without saying anything in reference to Rafe’s behavior that night. Choosing to let the conversation die, you sighed.

“I just wanted to apologize for how he acted. That’s all.”

You gave him a strained smile before turning away, pausing when he spoke.

“You know, your boyfriend’s a bit of an asshole too.”

You tensed for half a second before turning to face him, stomach twisting at that mocking curve to his lips. Blinking, you wondered how to respond to that.

“That’s your opinion.”

“One you agree with,” he argued with a slow smile, studying your face as he pulled his lip between his teeth. “I can tell. You think he’s an asshole too. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be apologizing on his behalf.”

Maybe it was because Rafe took JJ’s actions that night out on you, but you actually felt yourself getting irritated.

“I wouldn’t have to apologize for anything if you hadn’t been trying to provoke him. We all know what he’s like, and you two don’t exactly have the best history,” you shrugged.

The other man didn’t respond right away, simply leaning against the wall with one hand shoved into his pocket. You felt a little self-conscious the longer he stared at you, doubly so when his blue gaze lowered. Having expected no one outside of immediate family to be in the house, you were only sporting one of Rafe’s shirts. It came down to your knees, but in front of JJ, you might as well had been wearing a thong.

It's how Rafe would see it, anyway.

“Is that what you do?”

At your blink of confusion, he continued.

“When he’s being…well…Rafe, do you tell yourself that’s just how he is and you know what he’s like and so you should know better?”

JJ’s words struck a nerve, more than he’d ever know, and you glanced away. You guessed that your silence was answer enough, and when you looked back to him, he was nodding to himself.

“Sounds to me like you need a better boyfriend,” he told you with an amused smile, shrugging at you.

Realizing that this conversation went far beyond what you intended, you chose not to dignify that with a response. You could still feel the heat of his gaze as you walked to Rafe’s room, and when you paused with your hand on the knob, you glanced up to catch his eye. JJ hadn’t moved, at all, simply opting to stare at you, blond hair messy in a way that Rafe’s would never be.

You recalled what Rafe said about JJ being trouble, and it was only then did you consider he might be trouble in a way you hadn’t thought about before. When the sound of Sarah’s voice traveled upstairs, JJ’s name in the air, only then did he glance over his shoulder, and you took that opportunity to lock yourself inside of your boyfriend’s room.

[sipsteainanxiety]

"fuck," came katsuki's voice from the confines of your little kitchen.

"something wrong?" you called as you looked up from your position seated at the kitchen island. an edition of pros+ was open on the marble countertop before you, its gleaming pages showing pictures of various heroes posing for various collabs. you'd been lingering on the sections about dynamight, teasing katsuki with certain lines that amused you.

katsuki grumbled under his breath, lifting one of his hands to ruffle at his spiky hair. from your seat, you could see the outlines of his back through his black tank top. grey sweats hung lowly on his hips. he made a tch sound, his head bent forwards as he looked down at the stovetop before him.

"yolk fuckin' broke," he muttered. there was a scraping sound as he moved the spatula in his hand around the pan.

you shrugged and looked back down at the picture of katsuki you were admiring. pinched brows were pulled down as he frowned at the camera. "scramble them or something."

"'m not gonna fuckin' scramble 'em," katsuki said, offended. "that's not how y'make proper scrambled eggs."

"it is if the yolk broke," you replied, shooting him a grin when he casted a glare at you over his shoulder. he grumbled something indecipherable under his breath and turned back to the stove.

"yer the one who wanted sunny-side up eggs." he switched the spatula to his other hand so he could reach out and grab a fresh egg from the carton next to him. in a single motion, he cracked it on the edge of the counter and dropped it neatly into the pan. it sizzled and popped upon contact. you flipped to another page in the magazine as katsuki tossed the shell into the trash.

the toaster let out a ding! that made you jump slightly and look up. you slid off of the stool you were perched on, rounded the island to grab the two pieces of finished toast, and placed them neatly on the plate you'd set out. there were already six pieces of buttered toast on it—most of them for katsuki. you buttered the two pieces of crunchy brown bread and moved to set the plate in the middle of the island. you then walked over to grab two small bowls from the cupboard so you could spoon out some jasmine rice from the rice cooker.

the smell of eggs, rice, and bread mixed pleasantly together in the air, making your stomach rumble quietly. lazy morning light spilled gently through the open windows of the living room. you set the two filled bowls on the island just as katsuki turned off the stove with a click. you then grabbed two plates and pairs of chopsticks and positioned them across from each other. katsuki approached the island with the pan and spatula in his hands just as you sat back down.

"still readin' that shit?" katsuki frowned as his eyes flicked over at the pros+ edition on the island. you grabbed it so you could set it off to the side, a small grin on your face.

"what?" you asked amusedly. "i can't admire pictures of my boyfriend? you look so good in them."

his ears tinged a red that matched his eyes. he looked down at the pan so he could scoop out the eggs on it and set them neatly on the plates you'd set out. "'m right here," he mumbled—quietly. your gaze softened at his words.

"mmhm," you hummed, "i know." his lips twisted into a pout that disappeared as he turned to head back to the stove. you watched him for a moment, then looked down at your plate so you could grab a piece of toast.

"oh!" you blinked down at the full yolk that sat on your plate—lightly seasoned and round like the sun. a quick glance at his plate showed you the sunny-side up egg that'd broke, the yolk a sad mix that intertwined with its white companion. "you didn't have to give me the unbroken one—i don't mind."

katsuki gave you a look as he walked back to the island with a plate of filleted fish he'd cooked before the eggs. he placed it between the two of you and sat down heavily across from you. "ya wanted sunny-side up. why would i give you the broken one?" he said it like it was obvious.

you blinked at him, lost for words, and shrugged. "i dunno. why would you take the broken one?"

he frowned at your words and looked down so he could grab his chopsticks. "quit askin' questions 'nd eat your food."

you took a moment to quietly watch him—the flush that crawled up the bare skin of his neck, the adamance with which he refused to look at you. then you picked up your own chopsticks, a faint smile on your face.

"well," you said gently as he glanced quickly up at you then away so he could place a piece of fish on your plate, "thank you for the food."

[pipsavedmylife]

sometimes i jus get real sad cuz the one thing i truly believed in with all my heart...the thing i feel like i put the utmost energy towards didnt work out... so if that didn’t workout.. how can i expect anything else to?

[irisintheafterglow]

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger)

summary: married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: mentions of violence, blood, and deaths (nothing graphic), mild angst/comfort with happy ending, some swearing, yes this is the albatross coded

note: honestly not sure where this came from! was just listening to ttpd and thought about what being married to gojo realistically would be like (aka always being targeted as his weakness that it becomes routine). hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Wise men once said, “Don’t sleep with your windows open,” and you should have listened to them. If you had, there wouldn’t be three dead mercenaries in your living room, and another somewhere in your kitchen. There were five, originally, but you figured the last one was being hunted down a hallway as he tried to escape your building. The blood-spotted microwave’s clock reads 2:08 when you glance at it to grab cleaning supplies from the cupboard. 2:10 is when Satoru re-enters the apartment and kicks off his shoes. 

“I called Ijichi; he’s sending over cleaners right now,” he says, carefully stepping around the blood and curse guts splattered on the floorboards. Stray drops of who knows what speckle the photos on the bookshelf and he wipes them with his sleeve, scowling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 

“Yeah, there’d probably be less of a mess,” you admit, wiping down the kitchen island and guiding the crumbs and dust into the trash. “But they’d still be dead, so I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end.” 

“You handled yourself pretty well for being out of the country for a few months,” he adds appreciatively, retrieving the carpet cleaner from under the sink and sprinkling it onto the living room floor. “I still think it’d be better if you lived on-campus, though.” He squints in the pale moonlight at the pile of abrasive powder and decides to dump a little bit more for good measure. 

“I know–Hey, what’d I tell you about wasting the carpet cleaner? A little goes a long way, remember?” Satoru sets the tube down and puts his hands up in surrender, reaching back and tightening his blindfold before he approaches you in the kitchen. “I can hear your thoughts as they make their way to your mouth, dear.” 

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say–”

“Don’t ask what you’re about to ask, then, if you already know the answer,” you interject with that lightning-quick wit he adored so much. You move to grab the broom from next to the fridge, but he gently catches your wrist and turns you to face him. 

“You’d be safer there,” he continues and you pull your lips into a tight line. 

“Only place I’m safe is wherever I'm with you, realistically.” You had a point. In any other circumstance, the sentiment would be sweet if it wasn’t horribly true. You’d heard time and time again from Satoru how he stared restlessly at the ceiling, anxious about what danger might be coming wherever you were. He theorizes that the higher-ups promoted you to spite him, to have you travel even more often than he was and visit more places across the globe than any seasoned sorcerer would be comfortable with. Phone calls weren’t enough to verify that you were safe; he had to see you, feel you, know you were alive. “This is, what, the second time this month? The first time was when I came back from Paris, right?”

“I don’t think that was this month. It might’ve been the last week of the month prior. Monaco, maybe?”

“Eh, same thing. They always come after me when I get back from Europe. You think they’re trying to catch me off guard or something?”

“I don’t know if we can predict a schedule with these guys, babe,” he grimaces. As much as he liked that you were making light of the situation, the churning in his gut about what could have happened if he didn’t come was too painful to ignore. “Your dad would kill me if he saw how much danger I put you in.” 

“It’s a step up than sneaking me out of the third story of the house, I’ll admit,” you tease. How you could still find humor in times like these, he could never fathom. It’d taken months to convince your father to let Satoru court you, let alone marry you. To your family, he was an impediment, an obstacle, and, unfortunately, the love of your life. “Maybe even as bad as the food poisoning you got from that one place in Sendai.”

“I don’t think ‘in sickness and in health’ is supposed to apply to attempted assassinations. Food poisoning and sprained ankles, sure, but that other one toes the line a little too much.” The frequency of your life in danger was why he wanted you to live full-time on one of the Jujutsu Tech campuses and become a teacher, like him. Sure, a selfish part of him wanted you closer all the time, but he’d pick your safety over your proximity any day. 

“How far are the cleaners?” You yawn, washing your hands at the sink and scanning for everything in your home that needs to be wiped or scrubbed. 

“Ten minutes, tops. I can wait for them if you wanna go back to bed.” He knew you weren’t going to take him up on his offer. You were never able to sleep properly after attempts like this unless he was in the same room. “Though I know you won’t.”

“Isn’t it a little fucked up that we know how the rest of these nights usually go?” You chuckle, a soft, airy sound that takes some of the weight off of Satoru’s chest. You were truly sunlight incarnate and he was the darkest, unseen side of the moon. 

“I’d say this is all my fault, honestly.” You look at him curiously and he shrugs. “I’m the one who made you fall in love with me, after all.” 

“By that logic, I’m also partially to blame,” you point out, flashing him the ring on your left hand. The glow of cursed energy Satoru had embedded into the gemstones glows like Christmas lights in the darkness. The energy was more concentrated than your own body’s natural reserves, allowing him to pinpoint you immediately as long as you were wearing it. Danger and plans A through Z, and everything in between that came with marrying the strongest sorcerer in existence. “I can’t count the number of people who warned me about you.”  

“Why didn’t you listen to them?” 

“Because they’re not you,” you smile. “If you say that you’ll keep me safe, then I trust you to keep your word.” Sunlight incarnate, he thinks again, and God help anyone who tries to block you from him.

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn III

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: You're still sick

Mommy doesn't get you dressed properly the next day.

She lets you stay in your pyjamas because you're sick. She's sick too but not as sick as you.

Mom, of course, still has her hurt knee but she's the only one not sick in the entire house.

Your head pounds and your nose remains stuffy even as you play with your dinosaur toys, making them attack each other because they're in a war and that's what things do in a war. They fight.

"Open," Mommy says and you firmly clamp your teeth together," Chook, I'm not joking. Open."

She's got a syringe full of medicine in her hands and you refuse to open your mouth.

You've never had good tasting medicine before and you refuse to believe that Mommy's gone out and bought some.

You keep your mouth shut.

"Chook," She says sternly," This will make you feel better."

You sniff, wiping your nose on your shirt and shake your head. You know if you talk, Mommy's going to dose you up so you settle on just glaring, puffing out your cheeks to show her that you're wise to her tricks.

"Chook," She says again," We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you're taking your medicine."

"Chook," Mom says from the sofa," Come here."

Warily, you skirt around Mommy and run over to Mom, who lifts you up to sit next to her. Immediately, she attacks your sides with tickles and you can't keep your mouth closed anymore, opening it to let out peals of giggles.

Mommy squirts the medicine down your throat and Mom's ticklish hands disappear.

You glare, eyebrows drawing together in outrage. "That was mean!" You say," You cheated!"

Mommy laughs, ruffling your hair. "It was sneaky," She says," Not cheating. You'll feel better soon."

You huff but know she's right, shuffling off the sofa to return to your toys.

Helen joins you, curling up next to your side. Her ear flicks a few times as you continue your dino war. You have to blow your nose a few times because it gets clogged but Mommy is right because the churning of your stomach settles and your head no longer feels like it does when you bang it on a wall by accident.

"What do you want to watch?" Sam asks, channel surfing as she keeps one eye on you playing with Helen.

Kristie sighs. She doesn't look as bad as you did but it's still clear she's sick. She's got a bit of a fever and the end of her nose is all red. "Something that requires me to not think," She groans, massaging her temples to stem off the headache. She's only recently taken her own painkillers so she has a bit of wait until they kick in.

"So trash reality tv?" Sam teases and Kristie whacks her with a pillow.

You're playing nicely on the rug with Helen and your dinosaurs despite how ill you are.

Maybe eating all that dirt gave you a stronger immune system than Kristie thought.

"There's Love Island," Sam offers and you whip your head around.

"No!" You say," That's mine and Auntie Millie's show! You can't watch it! It'll spoil it!"

You sound adamant and Kristie manages to get out a laugh that could have been a cough.

"It's not a new episode, Chook," Sam assures you with her own laugh," It's last season. It's not going to spoil anything."

Your brow furrows for a moment before you're up on your feet. You've got two dinosaurs clutched in your hands as you wiggle yourself between your mothers.

They're sitting close enough that their legs are touching so you make sure to force them apart so you can be comfortable.

"Last season was okay," You tell Kristie very seriously," I will watch with you so you know what's going to happen. Mom, you need to put on Love Island."

Sam keeps laughing. "Oh? I need to, do I Chook?"

"Yes. That's what I just said. You need to, Mom."

With the other options being Deal or No Deal and Flog It, Sam's pretty sure that Love Island was truly her only option and changes the channel.

Clearly, the medicine has perked you up a bit because Kristie doesn't get a moment of respite the entire episode as you narrate what's going on during every single little moment.

Somehow, you manage to put yourself to sleep during it until you're lying draped over Sam and Kristie's laps.

"And we just let Millie watch this show with her?" Kristie asks, dumbstruck and Sam chuckles nervously.

"I didn't think she actually absorbed this much of it," Sam replies," It's like she studied it or something."

You shift a little in your sleep, death gripping your plastic dinosaurs so hard that Kristie can't pry them from your hands.

"Well," Kristie says," At least she's taking her nap without arguing."

"You mean, at least you can take your nap without her interrupting," Sam teases and Kristie rolls her eyes.

She lifts your limp body easily into her arms as she stands up. "Well, just for that. I don't think you can join us for naptime."

"Hey...Kristie! Kristie, wait! I'm sorry! Wait for me!"

Kristie doesn't wait for Sam though as she makes her way to their bedroom.

She settles you in the very middle of the bed but slipping in next to you.

You wiggle a little bit as Kristie tugs you closer, laying a protective hand over your belly just as Sam hobbles in, taking her own place in bed on your other side.

Helen joins in too, leaping up onto the bed and curling herself up around your feet.

"You have to get her to take medicine when we wake up," Kristie says, already half asleep.

"No fair! She's wise to my tricks now!"

"Not my problem, Sam."

[bangtanflirt]

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)

I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)

____

The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.

“Who are you?”

The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.

“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”

“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”

“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”

She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.

You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.

Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.

It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.

“It’s lukewarm.”

“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”

You wave your hand dismissively.

“No need. You’re fired.”

The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.

“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”

“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”

She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.

“Please! Please, I need this!”

You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.

Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.

“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”

Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.

“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”

“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”

“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”

You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.

You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall.  Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.

“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”

“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”

“Still?”

The tension in the air is palpable.

“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”

“So they’re cooking the books?”

“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”

“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”

The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.

“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”

A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.

“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”

“It’s just—”

“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”

Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.

You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”

That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.

It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.

___

The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).

Yup. A typical day.

Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.

“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.

“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”

You keep your smile through gritted teeth.

“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”

“I’m sure.”

The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.

“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”

“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.

“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”

“Sounds good sir.”

What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.

So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.

“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”

“What type of technology are we talking?”

“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”

You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.

“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”

“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”

“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”

He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.

Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.

Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.

“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”

You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.

“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”

You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.

“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”

You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.

“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”

“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”

Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.

“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”

So you hold your breath and swipe.

And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.

This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.

Holy fuck.

“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”

Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.

“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”

You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.

Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.

“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”

There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.

“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”

Shit. He got you. Checkmate.

The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.

“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”

You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.

“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.

“Excuse me?!”

“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”

It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.

You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.

“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”

___

The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.

It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.

“This is where you’ll be staying.”

You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.

“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”

He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

No response.

“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”

Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.

“I’m hungry Miss.”

It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.

That’s when the realization hits you.

If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.

It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.

You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.

“Eat up.”

With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.

And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.

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