#don’t care how ‘good’ the writing is thanks to y’all I won’t be touching this anime with a ten foot pole

[lxstfathier]

Hi could you please do sex pollen with bass or Alejandro Vargas or both with an inexperienced female reader please

Anon? anon who is bass?? i couldn’t figure out who you meant so, here it is, i did it with ale ;)

Flowers

Alejandro Vargas x Reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, sex pollen, squirting, age-gap, another fic of Ale taking our virginity cuz we love that shit!

A/N: i actually loved writing this lol, it was fun. you know english is not my first language, so there might be some errors, but i hope y’all like it 💗

You don’t remember exactly what happened. The mission went wrong, and you followed colonel Vargas into the woods, trying to scape from enemy fire, accidentally running into some bushes full of strange colorful flowers that you had never seen before. Then it all went blurry.

Now, two hours later, you’re on base again, feeling really weird. Your whole body is sensitive, as if it has been set on fire, heavy breaths escape your lips and a thin layer of sweat starts to appear on your skin. How are you supposed to deal with it? you don’t even know what is going on, but you try your best to stay quiet while a nurse examines all your vital signs.

“You’re fine” she says after making sure that you don’t have anything that could possibly affect your health. “But it seems that you’re under the influence of some… natural aphrodisiac. So i’d suggest you to, y’know, relieve all that sexual energy, it will make you feel way better.”

Natural aphrodisiac? oh, so now you finally understand why your poor pussy is so wet, clenching around nothing and practically begging to be fucked. It makes sense. However, you don’t have a problem with masturbating a few times until the effects wear off. So you thank her, and then make your way out of the medical bay, walking straight to your own room.

But you didn’t expected to run into you colonel again. Those flowers should have affected him the same way as you, that’s for sure, what is he doing in the hallway? he should be inside his room, doing god knows what to help himself with that issue.

“Sargento” Alejandro calls you, forcing you to stop dead on your tracks, even though both of you are not in the mood for talking. “What did the nurse told you?”

“She said i’m fine. It’s just the effects of a natural aphrodisiac what’s making me feel so weird.” you answer, smiling at him, trying to play it cool. “Why? do you have the same?.”

“Si” he nods, but you don’t hear the rest, all of your concentration is now looking at his pretty brown eyes, his lips, his stubbly jaw, his broad shoulders, his strong arms in that tight shirt, and that obvious bulge inside his cargo pants.

He’s always been a good looking man, you won’t deny it, but right now? he’s fucking sexy, radiating a strong masculine essence that makes your knees go weak and the heat in your belly grow more intense. Almost as if you were a bitch in heat.

All of your shyness is gone, and before you know it, you’re grabbing his hand to guide him into your room, not even caring that he’s way older than you, a colonel who is supposed to be your superior. The arousal clouds your mind, not being able to think about anything else than getting pounded by him all night until you can’t remember your own name.

And Alejandro knows he shouldn’t be so eager to fuck his sergeant, but how can he tell you no when you look so pretty and so damn needy?

Once you’re both inside, with the door locked and the lights on, he pins you to the wall, kissing you passionately as his big hands roam your clothed body. Something new to you, considering the fact that you had never been touched by a man before this.

Should you tell him that he’s about to be the your first sexual experience? maybe, but you don’t wanna ruin the mood, so you just let go, feeling your tongues dancing with each other, running your hands over his strong chest.

But, as much as you’d love to keep kissing, the heat caused by the aphrodisiac is now unbearable, forcing both of you to pull apart and take your clothes off. And it could be part of the effect of those annoying flowers, but when you finally see his muscles, his tan skin covered in sweat, and that big veiny cock springing free, your mouth waters and your pussy throbs, clearly enjoying the view.

“Like what you see, mi amor?” he asks teasingly, and you just nod. “Cause i really do, who would have known my sergeant had such a pretty body? huh?”.

Now that Alejandro sees you all exposed for him, admiring every detail of your being, he’s sure that you’re the most beautiful girl he has ever met. If he had known what was he missing on, he would have pushed you into those bushes way earlier.

You don’t really know what to do next, you’re flustered and too inexperienced, so when he notices your hesitance, he gently guides you to the bed, telling you to lay on your back and relax.

Alejandro kisses your neck, and then slowly goes down to your tits, playing with your nipples between his teeth. It’s almost like a torture, you want more than that, involuntarily bucking your hips to get at least a little friction, anything.

“Just fuck me already, please” you beg in a high pitched voice, desperate to feel him inside you.

“Such a needy little whore” Alejandro says, mocking your pathetic cries. But you don’t care, even less when he drops to his knees, prying your legs apart to have a good look at your perfect pussy before devouring it like a starving man.

He licks and bites at your slick folds, savoring the sweet taste, dives his tongue into your hole and goes up to your clit, sucking hard. It feels really nice, better than any of those times where you played with yourself at night, and it’s not long until you’re moaning, feeling that familiar knot in your lower belly while tugging at his dark hair.

You cum easily, arching your back off the bed, almost crushing his head between your trembling legs. But that doesn’t stop him, he keeps eating you sloppily until you ride out that first orgasm.

When you come down from the high, Alejandro is already on top of you, holding your legs on his shoulders, guiding his cock to your tiny wet hole. And, without a warning, he slides inside on a singular hard thrust, making you scream at the new sensation.

He’s big, so the sudden stretch is a bit painful, but once you get adjusted to his girth and he starts moving slowly, your pained cries turn into whimpers filled with pleasure.

“F-faster Ale, please, ah- god-“ you moan into his ear, going literally stupid on his cock that you can’t even say a simple sentence.

“Yeah? you want me to destroy this pretty little pussy?”

He starts thrusting harder, pounding your tight heat in the most delicious way, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over. It’s good, way too good actually, and you can’t help but writhe under him, digging your nails on the nape of his neck.

Another orgasm is near, you know it, and he can feel it too by the way you’re clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, preciosa, you’re taking me so well” Alejandro growls, one of his large hands going down to find your clit, rubbing it fast in circular motions. “Cum for me again, come on.”

His words, mixed with the stimulation and the way he’s ramming into you, is just what you need to see stars. You come undone once more, feeling the intense pleasure in every inch of your body, moaning so loud that probably the whole base heard.

“Fuck, look at the mess you made” he says, looking at how your sweet juices are coating his abs and pubes. Did you just squirted? hell, that’s new, you didn’t knew you could do that.

Alejandro doesn’t take long to reach his own orgasm, thrusting a few more times until he’s cumming inside, filling that pretty pussy of yours with his thick seed as he bites your neck, letting out an animalistic grunt.

You both stay like that for a minute, too fucked out to move, catching your breath. And you’re feeling better, but the effects are still not gone at all.

“That was amazing” you say, stroking his beard, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Can we do it again?.”

“As many times as you want, preciosa.”

[probably-writing-x]

Armour - Chapter Two

Rafe!AU x Reader

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions/hints of a toxic relationship

Word Count: 3K

Author’s Note: I LOVE writing this series and this whole concept, I feel like I could carry it on forever - once again, this chapter was inspired by this gif so I feel like this might be an ongoing theme for this series <3 Thank you for the love y’all.

After that night, you hadn’t thought of James. You and Rafe had returned home and, when Sarah asked how your night was, you’d told her you’d slept better than you had done in days. She’d probably tell you that you were crazy for going round to the house, and tell Rafe he was stupid for getting himself involved. She’d tell him this was too much like the old Rafe, the one that craved the power and the fights, and that he wasn’t like that anymore. But you knew that little spark in Rafe would always stay - for the few people that he cared enough about to make sure that nothing bad happened to them. And you’d seen that last night, the way he’d spoken about you; someone fighting your corner.

“Good morning,” Rafe groans as he walks through to the kitchen, dragging a hand over his face.

He’s wearing a pair of joggers that hang low on his hips, accentuating the V-lines around the bottom of his abs, his torso visible for the few seconds as he struggles to pull a hoodie over his head.

“Is it even still morning?” Sarah laughs, pouring out another cup of coffee and handing it over to him.

“I had a busy day yesterday,” He rolls his eyes, “You know, travelling and all that.”

He sits down at the kitchen island beside you and offers you a small smile just before his lips touch the coffee mug, his eyes warm in the steam coming from the cup.

“Did you get up in the night, Rafe?” Sarah asks, settling a hand over her growing bump and leaning back against the kitchen counter.

He frowns over his coffee and shakes his head, “Nope, slept like a baby.”

“That’s weird,” Sarah frowns too, “I could’ve sworn I heard the door open.”

“Probably just baby brain,” He clears his throat, “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Sarah watches with a suspicious squint in her eyes as he disappears, “I swear he gets weirder every time I see him.”

You laugh and look down as you feel a smile spread onto your face, you’d have to thank him later for last night.

Sarah comes over and takes the seat that Rafe had been sat in, shifting herself so that she’s facing you, “So, I need you to be honest with me, how are you feeling?”

You turn so that you’re facing her too and Sarah stretches out her hands for you to take, both of you squeezing into the contact, “I’m okay, so much better than I was. It’s just weird, you know? For nine years he was the person I told everything to. Even when we weren’t living together or anything, I’d wake up and send him a text or call him before I went to sleep. I keep getting this weird instinct to just reach for my phone because I feel like I haven’t heard from him and then I realise that… I don’t know, I won’t.”

She nods reassuringly but doesn’t say anything else, letting you continue.

“I just want to know why,” You laugh a little, “Not in a weird ‘what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. But just… it was nine years of my life, you know?”

“Okay, I maybe shouldn’t be suggesting this because I think, as the best friend, I’m meant to tell you to stay far away from him, but maybe it would do you some good to meet up with James and talk it all through. Do you think?”

After last night? You weren’t sure he’d ever want to see you again, especially if he thought Rafe would be with you again.

“Yeah, maybe, we’ll have to talk about everything at some point, I guess I-“

You’re cut off as your phone pings on the counter and a message notification comes up from James again.

I think we need to talk after yesterday. I’ll pick you up and we can go for coffee if you’re free?

Sarah eyes the message too, “After yesterday?”

“Right, yeah, with the box and stuff, I thought that was his final straw or something,” You look down so that she can’t realise that you’re lying, “Um, I better go and get ready, tell him that I’ll be free.”

You squeeze Sarah’s hand as you leave, hurrying up the stairs as if running from the conversation. She probably wouldn’t be too mad if you told her about last night, but she’d almost definitely tell you that it was a bad idea, that Rafe is a bad influence even all these years later. It was the same way you didn’t tell her about the night at the beach with Rafe, or the countless other nights like that - she’d tell you Rafe was her brother but it wasn’t a good idea. And you weren’t exactly ready to hear that.

You go into the bedroom that had become your own and close the door behind you, just as there is the sound of the ensuite door opening. Rafe steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water dripping around his shoulders, dipping down from his soaked hair.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ Rafe comes to a halt, glancing up from his phone in his hand, “The shower in the other bathroom is terrible so I just… I thought you were downstairs so I-“

“Rafe, it’s fine,” You laugh, “Not anything I haven’t seen before.”

He fakes a gasp, “You’ll embarrass me, (Y/L/N).”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t think anything embarrasses you, Cameron.”

He chuckles and drags a hand through his wet hair, “So, I was thinking we should get out of the house today. I miss the beach when I’m in New York, one of the few things to miss about this place.”

“I actually,” You clear your throat, “I have something to do today.”

Rafe frowns for a second, “Ooh, mysterious,” He stretches out a hand and pokes at your side, “What are you doing?”

“I just,” You shake your head, “I have a meeting, you know, to sort out the house and stuff.”

“Oh, okay, cool,” He nods, “Well, be back by sunset and we can go for a swim. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You return, “Now please go and get some clothes on.”

“Keep it in your pants, (Y/N), you know you love me,” He wiggles his brows, exaggeratively swaying his hips as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Your eyes settle over the room, landing on the box still sat beside your bed. The rest of it was closed away now, but the shot glass and now your toy giraffe, sat on your nightstand. You smile a little at the sight, thinking only to yourself. It felt like a couple of brightened moments in a week you were sure wasn’t going to get any sense of light. Today would likely be another darkness, but you’d be coming home to another bright place.

~~~

Within the hour, you’re showered, changed and ready to leave, sat on the edge of your bed waiting for James to text. Twelve minutes after he’d said he’d be there, he texts to say he’s outside. You grab your jacket and hurry down the stairs, glancing back to see Rafe and John B stood outside in the garden. John B is pointing something out and he’s holding a plank of wood in one hand as if he’s preparing to build something. Rafe nods along and seemingly agrees, laughing at something John B says that seems to brighten up his eyes. Your heart sinks a little at the guilt that comes with the view, knowing he would hate to think of where you were going right now. But you open the front door and close it quickly behind you, hurrying down to the car waiting with the engine still running.

You open the door and climb in quietly, feeling oddly far when you don’t have to lean over to kiss him in greeting.

“Hey,” You breathe out when he doesn’t make any move to say it first.

“Hi,” James glances at you, “Where do you want to go?”

“Are there really many options?” You frown, settling your hands into your lap and picking at the skin beside your thumb to give you something to focus on.

James chuckles a little and moves to reverse out of the driveway, “Fair point, let’s go.”

He drives you the short distance across the island to the one coffee shop that anyone actually used here. It’s near enough empty as you step through, thanking James for holding the door open for you. You order your regular and he orders his, sitting at a table in the far corner as if sheltering yourself from the world.

“So, I would ask how you’ve been but that feels weird when I saw you yesterday,” James comments, dragging his finger around the rim of the coffee cup on the table, “But how have you been?”

You swallow down a sip of your drink, too hot so it scratches your throat as it goes, “I’m okay, and I’m sorry about last night.”

He shakes his head, “Look, it’s your house too (Y/N), at least until we sort everything out. I just don’t know why you didn’t text me. And why you thought you should just show up in the middle of the night with Rafe?”

You nod as if you’re being told off, “No, I know. It was stupid. It was late and we were just planning on getting in and leaving, I didn’t plan on you seeing him, and I especially didn’t want the two of you to argue, you know that.”

He’s silent in his agreement, pausing for enough time for it to settle before he says, “So why is he here?”

“He’s back from New York for a few days, just coming to see Sarah,” You explain, taking another sip of your drink and wincing as it burns at your tongue.

“Perfect timing,” James raises his brows momentarily as if being sarcastic, “I’m sure he was happy to see you.”

“Wha-“ You pause, reconsidering the idea of starting up an argument that he’s already ignited, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, (Y/N),” James rolls his eyes, “I know the way he used to be with you.”

“We’re friends, we’ve always been friends.”

Perhaps that wasn’t so true, just maybe. Before you and James got together, you’d been so sure that you and Rafe would be inevitable. There was the night you kissed at the party, there was the night on the beach with far too much alcohol, there were countless days and countless nights. Just as you were losing hope of him ever reciprocating your feelings, you’d seen him kiss a girl at another party, and you’d used that as confirmation enough. Two weeks later, you’d gone on your first date with James. Nine years later, you’d still never told Rafe how you’d felt before that - especially since the two of you had started living such different lives.

“I knew how he felt about you, it was obvious. God, the first time I met those guys he acted like I was the worst person he’d ever met,” James scoffs, “I thought he was going to rip my head off when I said we’d be moving away for college. He could’ve done the same last night, too.”

“You know, you don’t get to talk like that anymore. You split up with me. So it shouldn’t matter to you how anyone feels about me, whether or not that’s true,” You defend, tucking your arms around yourself as if closing yourself away from him.

“I don’t think I noticed it when we were in college, it was just me and you in our own little world and for a long time I thought that’s what would make us last. But we moved back here and it’s like everywhere you turn there’s another memory of you two - another piece of him that you’re holding onto even years later.”

“We’re friends. He means a lot to me. That’s what friends are.”

You let the silence fall.

He’s silent too and it surprises you. Normally, he would find any way to keep an argument going if he’d started it, he’d argue back and forth constantly until you agreed - he didn’t just let arguments end.

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry for the way I ended things. I know I probably didn’t go about things in the right way, but I think if I’d have tried to do anything else I… well, I don’t think I’d have been able to do it.”

You feel the lump grow in your throat, the way it seems to constrict your words just a little too much as you say, “Then why did you?”

He breaks eye contact then and looks down at his cup, his finger still swirling around the edge in continuous circles, “Do you remember the first time we went out?”

“Our first date?”

“I picked you up from your house and I had to wait down the road because your parents might see me. And we went out, and I knew then that this was it for me, like within one date I’d just already decided,” He doesn’t meet your eyes, “And then I walked you home and I stopped around the corner again so that your parents wouldn’t see me. And you walked up to your house and Rafe was sat on the steps up to your porch, just waiting for you to get home.”

Your heart sinks at his words, like a weird feeling of not knowing the inevitable.

“And I guess for the past nine years that’s how it’s always felt; like Rafe was just waiting for you to go back home to him.”

“You’re blaming this on Rafe?” You raise your brows, your words feeling coarse and dry as you speak, “We were together for nine years. I chose you for nine years, every fucking day I chose you, and you want to tell me that you blame this on Rafe? That Rafe’s the reason you broke my heart?”

“Broke your heart,” James repeats, nodding slowly, “Your heart didn’t seem too broken last night.”

You let out a scoff and bite down just a little on the tip of your tongue as if trying to calm the anger bubbling out of you, “Right, yeah. I had one night where I felt a little bit fucking human again, after not sleeping, not eating, crying until I thought I’d be sick. After asking myself over and over and over again - what did I do? what should I have done? what’s wrong with me? And this whole thing you’re just going to blame on Rafe?”

“Where is he right now (Y/N)?”

You stop in your tracks, your hand clenching around the heat of your coffee mug, your words seeming to sink in the air between you.

James takes a long pause, his eyes scanning your face as if waiting for you to find the answer, “Waiting for you to come home.”

~~~

It’s an uncomfortable drive back. Neither of you speak a word. So much so that the tyres suddenly seem to make too much noise on the road, and you feel like you can hear the sound of the wheel turning under his grip. There’s a welcome relief when you watch the car turn into the driveway towards Sarah’s house, and an overwhelming dread when you catch the sight you know that James has seen too.

Rafe is sat on the steps in front of their house, the copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in his hands, a third of the way through the pages. He glances up at the sound of the car, a slight drop in his features as he recognises the face behind the wheel. He sets the book down on the side of the steps and stands up, his jaw clenching as you watch him.

James doesn’t say a word, but there’s the slightest tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips as if he’s been proven right about everything.

You wait until he cuts the engine and pull your seatbelt off, pausing before you push open the door, “I didn’t know that he’d be-“

James opens his own door and pushes himself out before you have a chance to say anything else. You follow suit quickly, scrambling out like the car’s on fire.

“Couldn’t wait to jump on her could you, buddy?” James bellows, storming over to Rafe.

“Excuse me?” Rafe looks taken aback, glancing at you as your eyes catch, “This is the house meeting you were talking about?”

“House meeting?” James looks at you, “So you couldn’t even tell him you were seeing me?”

“I just- I didn’t-“

“So what is it? You’re trying to come crawling back to her?” Rafe interjects and you flick your eyes to him as if a warning, though now he is only focused on James.

“You want to talk about crawling back? It seems pretty fucking convenient that you show your face around here the minute (Y/N)’s not got a boyfriend anymore.”

“Right, yeah, that’s why I’m here. Maybe it’s a good thing I came home, to pick up the pieces of the shit you left her in.”

In a conversation about yourself, you’ve never felt smaller. It’s like you’re shrinking into the space around them, disappearing when all of their anger is fuelled by you and focused on themselves. You’re sure you could disappear and they’d remain - hot headed in their hatred.

“Pick up the pieces? That’s what you think you’re doing?” James laughs, both of them practically steaming in their anger, “You’re not doing fuck all to help when you’re trying to get into her pants two seconds after she’s singl-“

“Enough!” You yell, sounding like the word has come from someone other than yourself as you feel your hands start to tremble.

Both of the boys silence, finally looking away from each other to focus on you, their anger sinking into the same pool as your disapproval. Rafe’s eyes seem to settle back into himself, like a realisation of how he’d been acting - he’d been doing the exact thing that he hated seeing in James, the way he ignored you in favor of his own focus. He looks like his younger self when you watch him. That anger, that hatred, the kind that he’d had before he moved away. That kind that gave him a million more problems. He’s that boy again.

“Just stop doing this, okay?” You drag a hand through your hair, “Neither of you get to talk on my behalf. Neither of you get to choose what’s best for me, or force this narrative of what you think is going on in my life. I’m sick of it. Have this masculinity battle some other time but god do it when I’m not here.”

With that, you disappear around the side of the house, shortcutting through the garden gate and finally letting yourself breathe, the tension in your chest seeming to return.

Rafe looks at James as if he could go again but in that moment all he can think of is you. The disappointment in your face as you’d walked away, the way you looked at him like you didn’t really know him. He drags a hand through his hair and all he can think of is how you tell him you’re sure he could suit any hairstyle. He stops himself from smiling, the urge fading when he looks at James again.

“So, what? Maybe a week or so and you’ll ask her on a date?” James folds his arms over his chest, “Or is a week just too long to wait? Hell, maybe you’ll be engaged within the month.”

“You know what, James,” Rafe clenches and unclenches his jaw, “Just go,” He waves his hand in the boys direction, his body turning away from him as if it’s gravitating back to you.

And with only the thought of you, he backs away from the fight.

~~~

You’re sat on the half-made dock at the end of Sarah and John B’s lawn, your feet pushing through the surface of the water aimlessly, eyes focused on the way the water curves around your ankles. Your chest has seemingly settled now but if you let yourself think of everything for too long it seems to flurry in anxiety again.

“Can I sit? Or should I put myself in time out?” The words come with the sound of footsteps creaking along the wooden planks, pausing as if they’re sure they are a safe distance from you.

You don’t turn around, “Sit, as long as you promise to be quiet.”

Rafe mumbles a ‘yes ma’am’ and takes his spot on the edge of the dock beside you. You feel him looking at you, his eyes burning into you as they scan your face. You weren’t crying and it seems to relieve the tiniest bit of worry within him. But you looked drained. Not tired in the way you were when he first saw you - but drained in the way that life seems to have been just slightly pulled away from you.

He opens his mouth to speak but stops as you lean back, fingers linking between your hands over your stomach as you lay against the dock. The sun hangs bright above you and you close your eyes, a deep breath forcing a rise and fall in your chest. Rafe watches you, the innocence in your features. He’d relied on those exact features for a lot of moments in his life. Your smile when he needed reminding of a good memory, the way your jaw clenches when you’re angry when he needed reminding of when he was in the wrong. Your eyes when he needed to come back home.

After a moment, he leans himself back too, his shirt wrinkling against the wood as he lays down, one arm tucking underneath his head. He turns his face towards you, observing.

You poke one eye open and squint in his direction, “Stop staring, weirdo.”

Rafe smiles, “So you’re not completely ignoring me,” He nods his head a little against his arm, “Does that mean I’m at like a six on the scale?”

“The scale?”

“The scale. How mad you are at something, you don’t remember?”

Of course you remember. When the two of you had been at school, he’d used that ‘scale’ as a way of you telling him how bad your day was - on the days when you had exams, and your friends were being shitty, and your parents were having problems at home, you’d say you were closer to a 10. It applied to everything - when he annoyed you, when you and Sarah had argued over something silly, everything.

“I’m a seven.”

He laughs a little and it seems to sit welcomingly in the space between you, easing the clench in your chest just enough.

The two of you stay in silence for a while after that, watching the sun disappear momentarily behind a cloud, casting a welcome shade over the water. You focus on the rise and fall of your chest, breathing in and out deeply to avoid the discomfort coming from laying on the dock. Rafe stays still beside you for a while, before his leg slightly shifts to the side so that his knee knocks against yours. You fight back a smile and turn around to look at him;

“Yes?” You raise your brows.

He pushes himself up so he’s leaning over you on his elbows, his head blocking the sun out so you can look at him without completely squinting against the light.

“I’m sorry,” He nods, “I really did have no idea you were with him, I was just waiting until you got back. And I don’t know, as soon as he said that I just felt like I lost it. It was weird, I don’t think I’ve felt angry like that in years.”

You nod in response, watching the guilt cast a darkness over his features.

“How did it go with you two today?”

You push yourself to lean up on your elbows too, matching his stance as he settles back to his side of the dock.

“Well, he’s not your biggest fan,” You laugh a little, staring out on the stillness of the water, “I don’t know, it just seems like he wants to think our relationship was doomed from the start, like we were just putting off the inevitable.”

“Well, did you ever feel like that?”

You take a deep breath, “I don’t think so. I don’t know, I just thought we’d stay together. God, I think after our third anniversary I was pretty certain that this would be it. But after what he said today it just feels like the two of us had been in two different relationships for all this time. And now I’m thinking, why didn’t he ever propose? Why did he want to move back here when I had my whole life at college? I mean, shit, Sarah’s having a kid and I was still just a girlfriend after nine years.”

Rafe nods, “Yeah I know what you mean. He was crazy for not wanting to marry you after all that time.”

You turn your head to look at him but he stays looking out over the water dismissively.

“God, who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

You feel your heart swell for just a second and turn your head away from him to look back over the water, both of you letting the silence fill in the empty gaps of the conversation you hadn’t yet had, that you didn’t need to have just yet.

“So, the sun is about an hour from setting,” Rafe points out, “How about that swim?”

~~~

You make your way back downstairs with your swimsuit on, a towel held under one arm, your flip-flops slapping against the wooden steps.

“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you today, how did it go with James?” Sarah stands up from the couch as you come downstairs, “Are you going out?”

You glance out at the garden, Rafe not visible along the stretch of the lawn, “Yeah, I’m just going for a swim. And it went well with James, a little bit of closure at least. Still feels weird.”

“It’s bound to,” Sarah nods, reaching out a hand to squeeze your arm, “Did you tell Rafe that you saw him?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, he knows,” You scratch at the back of your neck.

“God, I’m surprised he didn’t flip. I don’t think there’s anyone he hates as much as he hates James,” Sarah shakes her head.

You’re about to speak again but are cut off by the sound of the garden door sliding open. Rafe appears on the other side, poking his head through the created gap between the door and the wall.

“You ready to go (Y/L/N)?” He looks at you, a soft smile on his lips, a sort of calm resting in his features.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” You return softly and he nods, disappearing again.

“He’s so different when he sees you,” Sarah shakes her head, glancing over at the spot where her brother had just been.

“Different how?” You frown, letting your eyes trail back to her.

She shrugs her shoulders and rests a hand over her bump, running her fingers over the skin, “Just like he’s grounded, like he’s home.”

You feel the lump form in your throat, the way it once again makes it feel impossible to think of anything to say.

“Go on, he might be grounded but he’s still impatient,” Sarah jokes, gesturing her head in the direction of the door.

You laugh and follow her instruction, closing the glass door behind you as you walk down to the dock. Rafe is sat on the edge, his legs dangling over into the water. In only his swim-shorts, you can see the contortions of his muscles across his shoulders, the way they dip in his skin and seem to make him look bigger than he ever seemed normally. His skin isn’t as tanned as you remember him being but you suppose he doesn’t get as much sun when he’s in New York - not the kind he got here, anyway. And part of you seems to remember just how distant he was nowadays, his return feeling all the more temporary.

You hang your towel over the edge of the dock next to his and pull off your flip flops, leaving them at the edge too before breaking into a sprint straight past him. Your arms outstretch in front of you and break the surface of the water first, submerging your underneath until your toes feel the cold of the still water too.

Your head breaks the surface and you drag your hands up to draw your hair way from your face, now slick against your scalp.

“Very graceful,” Rafe smirks, “How on earth do I follow that?”

You watch him stand from the dock, stretching upwards before taking a few steps back. Within a split second, he catapults himself into the air, drawing his knees upwards so that he lands in a cannonball into the water, spray dispersing into the air and all over you.

“Well, I wouldn’t call that graceful,” You laugh, blinking away the water from your eyes.

From where Sarah and John B’s house was, you could see the sunset through a clearing in the trees if you swam around to the right angle. And you and Rafe knew the islands well enough to know exactly where to go.

By the time you swim around, the sky is painted with a yellow hue, sun lowering down seemingly a few feet from the horizon.

“I’m sorry about today,” Rafe breaks the silence, turning himself in the water to face you.

You kick forward so that your body tilts back, head hanging into the surface water, “You already said that.”

“I know, I just hate when I feel like I’ve disappointed you,” He comments, watching the way your body floats in the water.

You smile a little to the sky, “You didn’t disappoint me.”

He pauses for a moment, “So, I didn’t ask you earlier but, did he tell you the reason why he ended things?”

Your body tilts to turn you upright once again in the water, hands pushing through either side of you to maintain your position, eyes locking onto him. His hair is slick against his head and there are small beads of water trailing down either side of his cheeks, looping around under his jawline. He’s home. For the first time in years, he’s back here and it feels like it’s actually him - not some replaced or changed version. You’re both back to being sixteen again, sneaking liquor out of your houses, staying up until the sun called you home, misfit ways of surviving life in this isolated haven. And you realise it then, for a fleeting moment where you let yourself accept it - it’s Rafe that makes this place home.

“He…” Your voice trails off then, considering every possible outcome that would come in return for telling Rafe exactly what had been said earlier, exactly what you’d come to learn.

But the moment is fleeting. And you’re back in seconds to a reality. To a broken heart and a broken home, to New York, to your future, to James, to Sarah just a matter of metres away, to everything and everyone that you didn’t want to lose. To Rafe.

“He couldn’t give me a reason,” You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes not breaking away from Rafe.

“The guy’s an idiot,” Rafe shakes his head, turning away from you and towards the sun.

You watch as he does, watching the glow that radiates from his skin, the way it seems to warm the air around him.

James might be an idiot, but maybe he was right.

———

Taglist: @viianey

[serenhoshi]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

Got a request for Mingyu! I see that y’all really like this series since I got many many requests for the other members, I’ll write them as fast as I can! Thank you for the support! ♥

sO

Mingyu overall kinda seems like a flirt

he is very confident with his looks, and knows how to make people’s hearts flutter

a big gentleman!

in the end i think he flirts but without noticing it

he’s just very polite, maybe a bit too much, so people think he flirts

so when he held the elevator door for you, you thought he tried to flirt

his lovely smile and confident look made it seem like it

you were really attracted to him (because who wouldn’t be?) but didn’t show it, he had an almost playboy energy so you didn’t show your interest

he didn’t care about your impression of him, he was just being nice and polite :’)

you both discovered later that you worked in the same agency

so you saw each other a lot (mostly in the elevator because you had similar work shifts)

its when he saw you for the 3rd time that he started talking to you, mingyu being his extraverted self, he had to talk for a bit

with time and conversations you discovered how gentle and caring he actually is, far from the image of him that you created

so you both got close, and you feelings started to grow, his did as well

he had a crush on you since the beginning of your friendship, you had a comforting vibe and were interesting to talk with, just enough for him to grow fond of you

obviously the members noticed this weird lovey-dovey aura around you both, and mocked mingyu, then encouraging him to talk about his love for you

i think mingyu is a big romantic, so to ask you to be his s/o, he took you out on a date in a big chic restaurant

you both looked so good together, people in the restaurant thought you were about to get married

he told you he loved you, you told him the same thing back and bam, relationship

x)

once you got in a couple, i think mingyu would make things really fast

like he knows you’re the one, and doesn’t want to wait to get things done

so he asked if you could live together after a week of dating

also talked about having a kid after a month of dating

if it bothers you just tell him, and he will slow his excitement down, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable

if it doesn’t bother you then that’s great lmao

wants to show off with you, your whole relationship

WILL buy matching clothes and accessories

if you go out together you HAVE to wear some matching stuff, if you refuse then he pouts and gives you the silent treatment

loves cooking for you, cleans the appartment, washes your clothes

he likes to take care of everything around you just to make sure it’s really well done BY him

loves to spoil you

*brings a big plushie home* “oh this? yeah hum well there was a discount and christmas is soon so pre-christmas gift” *hands it to you*

(christmas was in 3 months)

loves to binge watch series and movies with you, invites the members for movie nights sometimes

but it ends up with them complaining about you both “cuddling too much” on the couch

he really makes sure you and the members get along

it’s really important for him that 2 of his most important things in life get along

so he brings you to practice with him sometimes, in the backstages of promotion showcases, and many other places with the members

but don’t give them too much attention of mingyu will pout

now now now mingyu and physical touch??

this man has always a hand on you -and sometimes on your ass-

takes your hand in his, hes so tall yours looks small af

likes to grab you and carry you around

you didn’t shower? *carries you on his shoulder to take you to the bathroom*

also bear hugs!!!!♥

when in bed hes also glued to you for the whole night

he just won’t let go

spicy/smutty part below :)

Mingyu in bed? huh

a confident b*tch really

he knows hes attractive and he knows you’re madly attracted to him

a noisy man as well

grunts and moans a lot

messy kisses >>

holds your ass during the whole make out part

hes just an ass man

loves your thighs as well

loves it when they tighten around his head when he goes down on you

really really likes it when you take care of him as well, despite him being a big dom

when hes horny he’ll ask for a blowjob 

will moan very loudly ♥

doesn’t have a preference on where you have $ex tbh

see the elevator, where you guys met at the agency?

well,, y’know

he likes the risk ;)

before living together he wouldn’t mind keeping his bedroom dorm’s door slightly open

so the members can hear as well :)

wouldn’t mind a threesome, as long as its with someone you both trust

likes to experiment tbh, but he refuses age-play and anything that has to do with blades

overall he’s just the best in bed :D

[jimmy-johns-was-taken]

A Shadow? (Pt. 1??)

BEN VS Dark link for the reader

Plus platonic Nina and Brian

A.N: I don’t really ever see much CP Dark Link, so here he is. Right now this is just part 1? Hell, dark isn’t even in this, but if y’all want more I wanna write more. And I think BEN VS Dark is pretty funny

T.W: none that I can think of??

Summary: Moving into a mansion in the middle of no where is difficult. Making friends proves to be an even harder task. And, what the hell is the shadow?

Thank you for reading :)

“So, breakfast starts about 5:00 AM? There’s no real time, but I recommend being down there before 9:30,” the man stated, walking down a long hallway. He had introduced himself as Brian and had been tasked with showing you to your room.

“Gotcha, gotcha,” you followed after him, taking in the hallway. A long corridor, dark wood floors with a stained red carpet and dark wood walls. A few tables here and there, as well as a few paintings. Most were of the Slenderman, but many included other beings. They looked similar to Slender, but had differences.

The hallway had been lined with doors, each adorned with a name plate. You didn’t pay much attention to the names, loosely looking at some. Brian, Tim, Toby, Cody, and Kate were at the beginning of the hall, but you stopped paying attention after them. More invested in what Brian was telling you, rough schedules and duties.

“Dinner and lunch aren’t really a thing, unless there’s an event. Oh! And a rule, don’t touch anyone’s food. If it’s not yours, don’t touch it,” Brian glanced back at you and you nodded in response.

“Is there rules on keeping food in the rooms?”

“Nah, boss don’t care much ‘bout that. Really, just as long as you clean up after yourself and shit, your fine,” Brian explained, arriving at a dark wood door with no name plate. “And here we are! Home sweet home,” he grabbed a key and unlocked the door, walking in.

“This is nice, bigger than I thought it would be,” you looked around. The same dark floors were present, however the walls were painted a dark gray. A bed was in the back corner, a nightstand next to it. A dresser sat across the room and a wardrobe by a door. You peered inside the additional room, a small bathroom with no decorations.

“Yeah, but it’s plain. If you feel like decorating, go for it. Most people have their rooms designed to their liking,” Brian had began walking out of the room, “I’ll leave ya’ be. Let you get settled. To your right is Silver, he’s quiet and won’t bother ya’. But, he’s also like, a glitch like you, so y’all might get along? Nina is to your right, good luck with that,” he gave you a small smile.

“Good luck?” You cocked your head sideways.

“She’s sweet, really, but she can be a lot. A little loud, yapping, stuff like that. But she’s sweet, won’t really give ya’ any trouble or nothin’,” he explained, turning on his heel and walking out, shutting the door behind him. You glanced around the room again, trying to come up with design ideas.

After a few hours, you had put up some decorations and filled the wardrobe and drawers. Being a glitch made things easy, just reaching into the screen and grabbing as you pleased. Brian mentioned someone named Silver and how he was like you? Your mind wondered, curious if there were any others here like you. There had to be, with all the rooms and such.

You stared at one of the posters, your favorite band peering into your soul. Smiling, you turned on your heel and walked into the bathroom, now starting on organizing that. A few minutes passed, you had just barely gotten started, when a loud knock rang out.

“One sec!” You yelled, scrambling off the bathroom floor and toward the door. Unlocking it, you just barely opened it. A girl stood there, just a little taller than you. You opened the door all the way, trying to get a good look at her. Black hair with two sections of bright colors and tiger stripes. Pale white skin, a large, thin smile cut into her face. She wore almost a scene-emo get up, studded belts and knee high converse.

“Hi! I’m Nina!” She threw her hand out for you to shake.

“(Y/N),” you responded, grabbing her hand. She shook it violently and somehow her painted smile grew wider.

“You’re the new girl right?! Aren’t you like, a glitch gamer pasta???” She questioned, looking behind you to see your room.

“Oh, uhhh, yeah,” you stood there, a little intimidated by her.

“Cool cool! There are a few of y’all here, but we’ve never had a girl gaming pasta!! Do you haunt a game? Or like, what? Also, I love that band!” She motioned to the poster behind you, smiling brightly. You now knew what Brian meant by “good luck.” Well intentioned, just a lot.

“Uhh yeah, they’re cool. I’ve got some CDs from them, if you wanna’ look,” you stepped aside, granting her entry. She pushed her way into the room and began to look around, taking in every detail.

“I know these bands! They’re cool. And I love the colors you have here, and the way you’ve done everything. Most people don’t really style their room, but I LOVE yours!” She continued to talk, going over everything from the posters to your large CD collection.

“Yeah, it’s nice. And to answer your question, yeah, I haunt a game. Final Fantasy, seven to be more specific,” you watched as she poked around your room.

“Ohhhh, blonde sword guy right? Big spiky hair?”

“Cloud.”

“Yeah! That’s him! BEN will like you, he haunts some Zelda game? I think it’s Majors Mask, but what do I know?” She turned toward you, then spun around and dramatically flopped onto your bed.

“Whose BEN?” you tilted your head, sitting down next to Nina.

“He’s another glitch, Zelda. But don’t call him that, he hates being called Zelda,” she told you a few more things about this “BEN.” He was like you, around your death age too.

“Oh! We can walk down to get dinner soon! I’ll text BEN to meet us, you can meet him” she pulled out her phone and rapidly texted as you watched in awe. How the hell could someone text so fast? And with that many abbreviations?

“Uhhhh, sure I guess?”

“Did Brian go over rules and stuff?” She looked back to you, sending off the message.

“Some? Stuff like not taking anyone’s food,” you snickered, it was a simple rule, common sense more like.

“Yeahhhhh, I wouldn’t. We got cannibals here soooooo,” she glanced toward your desk, looking at the PC.

“Oh shit, yeah I don’t want none of that” you looked toward the PC as well, noticing an odd shadow on the wall. But, as soon as it was there, it was gone again. Like seeing something out of the corner of your eye, yet when you look, there is nothing.

“Don’t go into anyways rooms without permission, try not to touch anything that doesn’t belong to you, don’t wake anyone up,” Nina listed a few more rules before her phone dinged again. A message from BEN, telling her to come downstairs. Another message followed, however you didn’t get a chance to snoop.

She grabbed your hand, leading you toward the door. You shut it and locked it behind you, then Nina practically took off running. She dragged you down the hall and down a large flight of stairs. You hadn’t seen this area before, a large chandelier and a few large doorways leading to various rooms. It was plain however, no paintings or tables.

Nina pointed out the doorways, explaining where they went. The largest one, located on your right, was to the main common room. Past it was a living room, complete with a large TV, gaming systems, a pool table, and more.

To your back left was a cellar door, which led to the basement, wine cellar, deep freeze, and additional storage. Another door to the back right was a long hallway, leading to the library, main laundry and cleaning closet, and a few quiet office rooms. Right in front of you stood a large door, leading to the outside world.

To the left must have been the dining room and kitchen. That’s where you and Nina were headed. Opening the doors, there were only three people present. You recognized one of them as Brian, to which he smiled and waved at you. The other two looked at you, confused.

“Yo, what’s up? This is Tim,” Brian motioned to his left, “and that’s Toby,” he pointed to the right. Tim nodded, pulling the red flannel closer to him. He was a bigger dude, not someone you would want to fist fight. Toby was different, orange goggles resting on their head. They looked kind of weak, but something told you that they could probably kill you. You waved slightly at the two, but a shadow caught your attention. But just as before, it was gone as soon as it got there. The others noticed and looked between one another, a silent understanding. We’re you missing something?

“Come on, come on, come on! BEN is in the kitchen I think?” Nina grabbed your hand once more.

“BEN is in the kitchen???” Tim spoke.

“Yeah?”

“We’re all gonna’ die, I swear,” he focused again on his food while the other two laughed. Nina rolled her eyes and you snickered a little. So, another detail about this BEN, he probably couldn’t cook for shit. Dragging you into the kitchen, your eyes widened.

“Holy shit dude,” the kitchen was massive. Stoves, pots and pans, at least 5 microwaves. It was like something out of a movie, all finished with fancy marble countertops. The Slenderman must be loaded.

“Yea, it’s big,” Nina looked to you, giggling.

“Yo!!! Nina,” a small, elf-ish looking boy walked over, grinning. He looked at you, red eyes examining you. This had to be BEN, he was dressed like a high schooler, sweats and a hoodie, hair messy and huge bags under his eyes. His eyes did catch your attention, bright ruby gems swimming in a sea of darkness.

“BEN, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is BEN” Nina introduced the two of you, motioning for you two to chat.

“Hi,” you plainly said.

“What’s good?” He sounded like a middle schooler. Nina, really the only person you actually knew, walked off, joining someone else in the kitchen. Damn you Nina, leaving me alone with strangers.

“So uhh, your BEN?” You didn’t know what else to say.

He chuckled, “yup, the one and only,” the proud grin that made its way to his face make you giggle. What an ego.

“You’re the new girl right? Glitch?” BEN asked.

“Yup, final fantasy.”

“Oh that’s cool, which one?”

“Seven.”

BEN’s eyes widened a little, “oh, so a blonde swordsman huh?”

You giggled, sensing slight jealousy, “yeah, cloud. Pretty cool huh?” You smirked.

“Link is way cooler,” he matched your smile, almost challenging you. You rolled your eyes in response. You two chatted a bit more, learning little about each other. Nothing too fancy, but someone else here so you weren’t alone. 20 minutes passed before Nina came back over, bacon and biscuits with her. She set the plates down, and the three of you began eating. You didn’t pin Nina for a good cook, but life was always full of surprises.

“Oh, guys?” You said, grabbing the others attention, “what’s with the weird shadow dude?”

“What?” BEN spoke first, looking around the room quickly. He seemed alarmed, worried almost.

“I mean the shadow dude lurking around? I’ve seen him a little, but he kinda’ hides,” you explained. Nina and BEN both shared worried looks, slightly talking between each other.

“Listen,” BEN started, “we can’t really talk about it. But listen, if you see him again, tell us. Like, right away.” BEN sounded serious, alarmingly so. Just who was this shadow man? You had seen him twice now, once in your room and the other in the dining room.

“Oh well, he was in my room…” you trailed off, looking over to Nina, “and he was in the dinning room.”

“Well shit,” BEN murmured, thinking.

“Uh, care to fill me in?” You asked, now slightly concerned for your safety. You were strong, sure, but you had no idea what this thing was.

“You’re a glitch yeah?” BEN asked.

“Yes, she is BEN,” Nina commented, rolling her eyes.

“Ok ok ok,” BEN looked to you, “have you ever heard of Dark Link?”

“I’ve heard of him, but I don’t really know much?” You had heard of Dark, he had been around for a while now. Not only that, but he was a more powerful entity, not someone you wanted to fight.

“I don’t even know why he’s hanging around here,” BEN sighed, “listen, you see him again, tell someone yeah? Don’t mess around with that guy.”

“Ok?” You had a questioning tone, yet no one answered. What was so bad about Dark Link, and what did he want from you?

[another-identityofmine]

Can you write a fanfic about Elvis having sex in front of the mirror with an employer? 🤩

••••••••• 𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ••••••••

Summary: Your boss, Mr. Presley, gets fed up with your attitude, bringing you into his office to teach you a lesson. 18+

author’s note: thank you so so much for your request! I haven’t had a spicy one in a while…so this is definitely the first in a long time for many to come! I’m tryna pick up my speed for writing stuff now, but like, nothing can help my slow ass 😭. I’m surprised no one has timed me and ticked off every time I post a request from centuries ago.

author won’t let y’all read bc she’s got a big mouth: jamming to this whole typing, I hope you enjoy. And like I always say, please, if you’re not pleased with it, tell me and I’ll be more than willing to write you another!

warnings: brief insecurity, mirror sex, spitting, light spanking (f receiving), cumming on mirror (m doing), licking cum off mirror, pet names “good girl” and “pretty girl”, tasting one’s juices, public sex (in office but within store with customers present), swearing umm…yup. You may be wondering how the hell I’m able to listen to a smooth tune like this, and write filthy snit…I dunno.

••••••••••••

“And I said, that it’s out of stock.” You scoff and huff at the prissy customer. This whole argument has been on going since the damned lady came up to you with a bitchy attitude about how out of stock of her favorite lipstick.

Her wrinkled, lipstick-stained lips curl and her nose scrunches, pissed off, “Well then why don’t you get fuckin more?” She barks back, jabbing her chunky fingers into a fist on her hips. You glare back at her and open your lips to snap, until you feel a whoosh of air behind you, as if someone has walked up behind you suddenly.

You feel a stiff hand that curls and molds perfectly onto your shoulder, and there’s immediately silence. The customer only scoffs, rolling her eyes and walking away unamused and pissed off. You turn around when the hand loosely slides off of you, so you turn to whoever was behind you.

Mr. Presley. Your eyes widen but you immediately stay composed when you see the frown on those precious lips, and a sigh escape from your boss. “This is the 6th time you’ve upset a customer.” His buttery, honeyed accent speaks out to you, and you just cross your arms over your chest. Ruthlessly, carelessly.

He takes a step closer to you, and you can almost inhale his tangy, spicy cologne that lingers on his suit that he wears. A dark violet v-neck, with a dangling chain that rests against the nestles of chest hair that peaks out. You bite your lip, now he’s definitely got your attention. “I said, this is the 6th time you’ve upset a customer.” He speaks out, more firmly and stern.

You finally raise your chin and glance up at him, with a shrug of your shoulders. “I don’t know what to tell you, they’re all here and gettin’ at me as if it’s my fault the items are out of stock.” You say, standing your ground. He inhales deeply and breathes out, clearly bothered and sick of your attitude. “But the least ya could do, is tell ‘em nicely. Do you not care?” He sighs, and your eyes meet his blue, dashing gaze.

There’s a silence that grows, before he smirks softly and steps a little closer. Your plump breasts nearly touching his broad chest. “Unless, it’s for a different reason?” There’s teasing in his voice. And you purse your lips, “No Mr. Presley, I do care…and besides what other reading could there be?”

A smirk widens on his lips, chuckling lightly, “you could be wanting my attention, huh?” His voice drops to a sultry low. Your cheeks immediately run warm, burning pink. You then decide to cock your hip out slightly with a little “humph”, grazing his hip with yours. “Maybe I am?” You play his game a little further.

You’re suddenly pressed against the wood of his office door, his arms surrounding around your head. He’s dangerously close to your face, breathing hotly against your cheek. “Hun, m’gonna ask ya this okay? Do you wanna go further?” He whispers for consent, finally glancing up into your eyes. With a plead in those blue orbs. You smile and nod slowly, “yes, I do”

You dare, and he gently presses his plump, soft lips to yours. His fine, perfect nose smooshes against yours and he softly groans again the kiss.

He pulls away, breathing heavily through his nose and he smiles. With pink, hot cheeks and a toothy grin, he grabs your hand and guides you to his office chair that’s planted across a large mirror. Plopping down onto the cushion, he pulls you in to snugly sit on his lap.

Lowering your round, tight ass onto his lap. You both glance over at your reflection across, and his eyes fixated on your clothed asscheeks pressing to his growing hard, prominent bulge. He bites his lip and he bucks his hips into your ass, gasping softly at the sweet sensation.

It’s in no time that you both are half naked down, his pants are hung at his calves while you still keep your seat at his lap. He smirks and hooks his smooth, freshly shaven chin to your shoulder. He delicately peels off your panties, and his eyes widen. He stares at the reflection of your beautiful body, while you flutter your eyes closed. insecure.

Your flushed lips that glisten under his office lamp, shadow beneath the locks of curls from maturity. Your dark, wiry, curls of pubic hair. He chomps down onto his lower lip with a mute whine at the back of his throat, as his eyes bore into the delicious sight.

With your eyes still closed, the cool air onto your sensitive parts make you shiver slightly. You stammer out with quick embarrassment, “l-look, I-I uh know, it’s not what uh you like maybe have thought- I-I just d-don’t shave down th-“ with not even the time to explain yourself, you feel his fingers dig into your cheek. “Open your eyes,” he says in a deep, aroused voice. You feel his clothed cock twitch heavily beneath your thigh.

You flicker your eyes open just to have your chin forced to drop down and glance into the mirror. You gasp softly at how wide your legs are open and exposed, your vagina pratically on display for him. “This is what beauty is, ya hear? Dontcha doubt it.” He speaks out firmly, before pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Okay, hunny?” He whispers warmly, his tone a little softer that moment. You nod slowly and he smirks. “That’s better, pretty girl.”

It’s not long til his tip prods at your sticky, wet and warm entrance. Your pubic hair curls and tickles at the shaft of his cock, and the sight alone makes him whimper softly. “Okay pretty girl, wantcha eyes open and on the mirror. Watch me fuck you nice and how a man should, ya hear?” You nod weakly, flickering your eyes up to the cloudy mirror across. The jaw dropping sight ahead.

His hairy, thick and jiggly thighs all spread and between yours to secure your place atop of him. His red tip pressing against the delicate skin of your shiny, wet womanhood. Both glistening from the evident arousal of yours and his. You gulp and swallow before you drool an even messier lake on him.

His fat, red and tender tip slowly enters, and his eyes already roll to the back of his skull from just the feel of your walls engulfing his length into you. “F-fuckkk,” he heaves out and bites his lip toughly. Grabbing your hips to stabilize you, “taste your delicious self, pretty. Taste yourself.” He sneaks a tan hand to your thigh, dipping his fingers between your joined bodies. Your sticky juices gather on his fingers before he finally picks up his head and glares into your eyes through the mirror, ignoring for now the burning and sweet sensation of your pussy. “give ya self a nice good lick, ain’tcha sweet?” You both watch as your pink, wide tongue drags against his fingers. Lapping up your own tangy, yet honey savored arousal. You swear you feel him twitch inside of you, milking out more precum to join your sticky walls. He quickly lingers a hand down, and gathers more arousal to his fingers and brings them to his own lips. He makes sure to create fine contact as he puts them into his lips and sucks them eagerly, moaning at the taste.

“Fucking hell, is this why you wanted my damn attention? To taste this delicious pussy of yours?” He groans out, popping his fingers outta his mouth and wander his wet digits to press directly to your sensitive hooded clit. You nod lazily and he eases his cock into you with a smirk.

His balls press to your pussy lips when he bottoms out and you both string out guttural, throaty moans out of you. His jaw dropped and breathy pants escape his lips as he watches himself fucking into you through the reflection.You can’t help but stare with half-lidded eyes as you slightly jump with every thrust of his.

And he only picks up his pace.

”this why ya being bitchy to them goddamned customers? Ya wanted mah attention didn’tcha?” He gasps out, his fingers hooked onto your meaty hip and he moans. The sticky sounds of his pounding fill the air. He feel one hand release your hip to smack a firm palm to your fine ass.

“answer me! Ya wanted this didntcha? Tell the fucking truth.” He growls through gritted teeth, you both still watching the mirror and panting in sync. You nod vigorously and grip the armrest to the creaky seater. “Yes! Oh gosh, y-yes! I wanted this!” You scream and blurt out, not giving a rat’s ass if customers were just outside his office door. Especially that bitchy old lady.

He smiles and kneads your stinging ass cheek into the palm of his hand, then mapping his hands to the mound of your pubic hair and lightly tap on your sensitive clit. “Pretty good girl, aren’t ya?” He smiles and hums out, rubbing then tight circles on your nub and you immediately throw your head back. He lets you, wanting not to bother you while to watch this mesmerizing image.

His cock sinking in and out in a rhythmic pace, his cock glistening between your spread pussy lips as he quickly stuffs himself back into you. You feel a sweet bubbly sensation in the pit of your stomach, and your vagina wall’s immediately squeeze his cock. He moves his fingers faster against your hood, and you whine out, “oh, s-shit, shit, shit!” Your head rolls back and forth, glancing at the mirror heavily with ragged breaths. And he only goes on.

“Now ya as tight as a Virgin? Gon’ come on my cock like a good girl now right?” Is all he says, before you see stars flooding your vision. Sex has never felt this good, and you don’t know if it’ll ever be again. He rides you through your orgasm, chasing his high.

A loud groan echoes through the room, popping his cock out of your sweet pussy to release spurts on spurts of white, creamy, strings of sperm. There’s a moment, to catch your breath, and your eyes flutter open to meet the sight. The mirror now messy with his seed that drips down slowly. Feeling brave and teasing, you wobbly crawl off his lap to kneel on the floor and lap up his cum on your tongue. You pull away, to swallow and his eyes widen.

He smiles a big one on his handsome face, his blue, now navy blue eyes speak only lust. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, “now you’re a real good girl, not wasting a drop of my cum now? All’s forgiven. Hell.” He sighs out, his shiny cock soften against the light bush of his dark curls and you only hum softly.

“Sounds good”

••••••••••

Author’s note: How was that folks? Anywho, I feel like the most hard/tiring part of writing is the tags. You gotta make sure it’s in just the right catergory and all that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, mwah!

[cellophaine]

This is my experience meeting Charlie today at Toronto Fanexpo!

When it was my turn to get an autograph from him, he said hi to me with a big smile on his face and gave me a fist bump!! I was so flustered that I was speechless and I did the first thing that came to my mind, which was freaking out externally by screaming soundlessly into my hand 🥲 he saw that and smiled even more. He asked for my name and then asked me how I was doing today and I said “better now that I get to meet you” and I stuttered a little bit answering him 😭. I went on and said I appreciated his portrayal of Daredevil and I lowkey trailed off a little bit because I was so nervous I forgot what I was going to say but he caught on and said “aww thank you so much love god bless you” 😫. Then he looked down at my copy of Zdarsky’s run and I said “I hope you don’t mind signing a newer run”. And he said he didn’t mind and flipped through my book!!!!! I asked for his opinion on it and he said he liked it! And then he looked over to the pens and said “what colour should I choose? Silver?” I said yes because it would stand out on the cover. Then he asked me if I wanted him to write my name, of course I said yes and he signed my book. He looked at me again and put up his hand so I could high five him and I did it for a little bit until he pulled his hand away and gave my friend who I came with a fist bump 😭 I did the “screaming soundlessly into my hand” thing again because I freaked out again and he told me to enjoy my day at Fanexpo. I thanked him and said “I’ll see you later for the photo op” then continued “I promise I won’t freak out like that again” and then he laughed and said something else. What he said at the end was blurry to me because in my head at that moment there was only one thing and it was I touched his hand 😭😭😭

Later on at the photo op, I walked to him and said hi and he said “hey you didn’t do that thing this time”. HE REMEMBERED Y’ALL HE REMEMBERED 😭😩😫 he pulled me into a side hug for the photo. He was so SOFT and NICE and he smelled GOOD. The flash went off and I was about to move away from him so the people behind me can take their photos. But he held me still and asked them to take the photo again because he wasn’t ready. So we stayed put like that the whole time when the photographer and the person listened to something on their walkie. Then they took the picture again and I said thank you to Charlie and he said thank you with my name and god bless.

This is as many details as my disorganized brain which was overwhelmed by the amount of people at Fanexpo can managed. Charlie really took his time with his fans, made conversations and I could really feel the care he has for his fans 😭

Here is the photo I had with him!

I walked out with two prints because he wanted to retake the photo! When I walked out, a girl scanned the barcode on my photos and told me I was allowed only one. But then she talked to someone else and he said it was okay for me to keep both!

Here are some more photos I took when I was in line. He was so smiley 🥹

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Taking Care of Drunk Peter

Peter Quill X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Drunk Peter, angst, reader keeps her feelings from Peter

Word Count: 833

(A/N:) I really didn’t think my first Peter Quill imagine was going to do so good so I wrote another! There is no greater joy when my readers really like what I write. Y’all are so amazing and I love being able to do this as it is an escape for me. And it lets me share my interest with so many others! Thank you all for reading, liking, and reblogging. It just keeps me going and I can’t wait to share more stories with you all! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

After Nebula left Peter in his room, she came straight to you asking you to go keep an eye on him. The Guardians knew how much you cared for Peter and though it was a tough request you readily agreed. Your crush on Peter was a topic that no one discussed, especially around Peter. It hurt to hear him talk about his love for Gamora and while you were happy for him to find some happiness in life, it broke your heart. You didn’t ask to feel that deeply for him, but fate could be cruel most of the time. You never wanted Peter to know that he hurt you in anyway, especially now that he was dealing with his loss in an unhealthy way. Slowly making your way to his darkened room, you made sure not to make any noise. Peter snored loudly, snuggled deep in his blankets until you turned him over on his side. While Nebula had good intentions on making him as comfortable as possible, with how drunk Peter is you didn’t want him to choke on his own vomit. 

Getting comfortable for a long night, you turned on a lamp that wouldn’t bother Peter while he slept. You opened the book he had bought you awhile ago and began reading until he needed you or you fell asleep. After hours of keeping watch, Peter’s snores began to lull you into slumber and it didn’t take long until you fell asleep as well. It was early the next morning when you heard pained groans coming from the bed by the window. Shoving off the blanket you had found, you were by Peter’s bedside in an instant. He had set up with his feet on the floor but his head was in his hands. You could almost see the pressure in his temples from the hangover that was punishing him now. Quickly getting him some water and pain killers you knelt at his side, gently touching his arm. He jolted finally realizing he wasn’t alone in his room.

“How long have you been here,” he asked after downing the medicine you gave him.

“All night,” you replied going back to the sink to refill the glass. “Nebula was worried about you so she had me stay here to make sure you were alright.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Peter took the offered glass and downed the whole cup in seconds.

You sighed taking the glass and setting it down on the bedside table. “Yes I do Peter. You’re not taking care of yourself and we’re all worried about you.”

“All,” he scoffed.

“Yes Peter,” you huffed starting to get mad, “all of us actually care about you shocking right?”

“Don’t get angry my head is killing me.”

“Cause you won’t stop drinking yourself into a stupor,” you shook him causing Peter to hiss as he felt like his brain was rattling around in his skull. “We all miss Gamora and it sucks that she’s not here but do you think she would want you to treat yourself like this?”

“No.”

His reply was short and you could tell that he didn’t like you trying to peel back the layers he had taken so long to build up. But you couldn’t let him continue on like this and you weren’t about to lose him all over again.

“Please take care of yourself Peter. Gamora would want that for you,” you paused taking a deep breath. “I want that for you. I care a lot for you Peter and I can’t take seeing you hurt like this. I never said anything because of Gamora, but you deserve to know. I’m tired of keeping the lie to myself.”

Peter wordlessly grabbed you and pulled you into his arms. Clearly this had been something you had hidden from him for so long and now that you saw the pain he was dealing with, you felt the need to get rid of yours. He cared for you deeply and never wanted to hurt you in such a way. He felt like a jerk, flaunting his and Gamora’s relationship around and now talking about how much he missed her. You had to watch while he went down in flames and he could never bring himself to forgive himself for making you feel such heart break.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled fighting back tears.

“It’s okay,” you said your voice muffled by his shirt.

“No it’s not,” Peter whispered.

“It’ll get okay Pete,” you pulled away so you could smile up at him. The tears in your eyes causing it to waver but you wouldn’t let the smile drop from your face. “It takes time but it will turn out okay. Just promise me Peter that you’ll take better care of yourself from now on.”

Peter nodded, pulling you back into him. You didn’t fight or argue, just letting yourself live in this moment. Letting the air clear between you both as time would heal all wounds.

[sketch-shepherd]

.

[richiekirschs]

Hi ! I was wondering if you could do one of these for Steve Harrington, unless you’ve already done one and I can’t find it😅😅

Your writing is absolutely amazing. Have a great day (or night !)

omg yes!! i love steve and i haven’t done one for him yet don’t worry and thank you sm!!

touch starved steve harrington x fem!reader (under the cut)

- other than nancy, i feel like nobody had like a crush on steve

- they heard he was hung and just wanted to see for themselves

- so when you tell him you want to be with him and not just for the sex he’s surprised

- he’s shyer than you thought he’d be, because he doesn’t have a lot of relationship experience

- he apologizes a lot for being clumsy and awkward

- “steve you don’t have to apologize for your hands being sweaty it’s hot outside i’m sweaty too”

- he melts when you kiss him because there’s so much love behind it

- leaning into him to whisper something in his ear and him turning bright red

- he never initiates anything and you end up convincing yourself that you did something to upset him

- “steve, are you mad at me?”

- “what? no! why do you think that?”

- “you never like… hold my hand or touch me or anything, so i just… i thought i did something”

- then he explains to you that he’s only ever had one serious relationship so he’s not really used to the feeling of someone else’s hands on him

- he tells you it doesn’t make him uncomfortable or anything it’s just not something he has experience with

- he warms up to it slowly

- starting with reaching for your hand instead of you reaching for his

- eventually he asks you if you want to spend the night at his house

- “my parents won’t be home so it’ll just be us, i can get some movies or something but you can say no—“

- “why would i say no? i’m your girlfriend, steve, of course i’ll spend the night with you. when should i come over?”

- you show up at six with an overnight bag

- y’all drive through wendy’s and take the food back to his house

- after you guys eat, you sit together on his bed and watch tv

- he’s on his back, but you’re sitting cross-legged with your back against his headboard

- he looks up at you through his long eyelashes and says, “will you, uh…”

- you look down at him and say, “you want me to lay with you?”

- he nods, so you curl up next to him

- “you smell good,” you say, and he flushes bright red

- “th— uh, thank you”

- play with his hair and he is out like a light

- your touch relaxes him

- gentle tracing of the muscles underneath his shirt have his heart racing

- he’s so afraid of being clingy

- “steve you’re my boyfriend i don’t care how clingy you get”

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku (1/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

post type : headcanons; accompanied with a small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice not nsfw]

note(s) : i was thinking about todo’s hands today— also i’ll be adding pictures of what i think their hand looks like so.. 😳

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

i’d like to believe that shouto’s hands would be long and pretty— kinda like how i’d imagine akaashi and kageyama’s hands

but have y’all seen that man’s hands in the anime and manga 😳 they’re not really what i’d call them “long”

so i had to find a mid point, kinda like a fusion of both.

his hands are either really pale, or the knuckles are just really red

moving on..

you have a weird infactuation with his hands, and you were gonna tell him! but you just didn’t know when

he didn’t really get it at first??

yes, he will respect and properly entertain your interests. but.. his hands? he doesn’t get that part yet

shouto can say he takes care of them well. washing his hands at least 3 times a day, and applying lotion on them with the slightest mint scent in it

and he takes care of his hands because he needs to rely on them everytime he uses his quirk.

speaking of quirk— his hands are either scorching to the touch, or cold.

so the first time he reaches out for your hand, you just.. freeze?? you were talking about something random while walking with him

then he just suddenly reached for your hand

seeing your reaction, he’s like.. “oh. my hand must be too cold for them. gotta switch.”

then he switches hands, holding your hand with his left. and you’re still the same, and it appears to be that switching didn’t really help

scenario

“what’s wrong, love?” he pulls you aside, staring at your expression— seeing that you became stiff when he reached for your touch.

you want to downplay the entire situation, really. but shouto doesn’t budge, that’s just who he is, and he’s still left wondering what’s wrong, and if he did something.

that is until you mention his hands, and that you like them

“your hands.. are really nice i guess,” you avert your gaze “i like them.” you say in almost a whisper like tone.

he sighs in relief. and he feels better that it’s not about the fact that you hate the temperature of his hands, since they’re either abnormally sahara desert hot or cold like fresh snow on a december morning.

his cheeks flare pink for a moment, in sudden realization “y-you like my hands?” shouto asks this as a confirmation, hoping that he actually heard it correctly.

but when you nod, he takes full advantage— entertaining your interest in his hands to his best abilities

he smiles when he sees your expression change when he brushes the back of your hand with his own. then, he finally holds your hand— the coolness of his right hand is making you hyper aware

your heart only pounds faster against your chest, when he presses his lips to the back of your hand, maintaining eyecontact as he does soz

after dating you, he paints his nails with clear nail polish. it makes him feel better knowing that they’ll stay clean even with all the hectic training

to calm you down, he likes to rub his thumb against your cheek— his quirk slightly activating while he stares into your eyes

a little spicy; but whenever you eat your desert during a date, he will wipe the excess off the side of your lips, and ask you to lick it off.

is he teasing you? or is he serious? we will never know.

bakugou katsuki

SCREAMs

bakugou’s hands are big, and his veins are prominent— but not too veiny to the point it’s concerning.

he sometimes likes wearing rings but.. that’s just sometimes

his hands are strangely soft, especially the palms— but he could say there’s some rough spots here and there, but he’d guess it’s because of his quirk.

bakugou’s hands are always warm and sweaty, which he never actually cared about— until he started dating you

he’s kinda worried that you wouldn’t wanna hold his hand, but you can say it’s actually the opposite?

you really like his hands.. but you’re just scared of getting judged

so when he reaches for your hand, you try to pretend that he wasn’t? you turn your head away— trying to not look the slightest bit of dazed

scenario

“what’s up with you?” bakugou interrogates you, his ruby irises glaring into your eyes— his voice gruff

“what?” you question, the sudden action was out of the blue— and you hold in your breath when his hands cage you in, large hands pressed on the wall behind you

“HAH?” he yells, not amused by your sudden oblivion, “don’t act dumb,” he grits his teeth “spit it out, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“nothing’s wrong, suki— i don’t really follow?” you try to convince him that no, i’m totally not afixiated with something about you, even though you’re my boyfriend; i don’t wanna admit that. however— you’re not very slick.

“tch, fucking liar.” his eyes narrow, “if you hate my fuckin’ hands, then i prefer it if you were honest about it.”

“sorry, but what?” you blink, suddenly appalled by his words, “hate.. your hands?”

“because that’s what it is, huh?” he moves even closer to you, practically inches away; and you can only pray that he can’t hear the rather loud beating of your heart. “my hands are so sweaty that you don’t wanna touch em, is that it?”

you’re agitated by his misunderstanding, and you sigh; finally deciding to come clean. “fine! fine. i like your hands.”

you didn’t mean to make it sound that upfront.

bakugou blinks, the sudden tension releasing into thin air, his expression left almost as equally surprised as you.

“tch. so that’s how it is,” he smirks, and by the way it looks— you suddenly regret telling him that.

well.. not really?

he actually takes advantage of that, making sure you remember his hands nicely.

when he sits next to you on the couch, he’ll throw his beefy ass arm around your shoulders like usual. then, he’ll run his hand up and down, making sure you’re aware of his touch.

bakugou will be THAT BITCH that’ll gesture you to come over so he could kiss you,

and when you’re leaning in— he’ll pinch your cheek, a sly grin on his face.

a little spicy; but he’s the type to rest his hand on your neck when you guys kiss <3 ugh

but overall— he’s really glad you actually like his hands, and it wasn’t like you hated them at all

but GOSH he just wished you told him from the start >:T

midoriya izuku

less veins, but.. DAMN THEY’RE KINDA THICK?? not too thick but.. have you seen his hands in the manga??

of course— his hands are rough, with a bunch of scars from his quirk. which he was kinda conscious about

but he tries hard to take care of them outside of combat things in fights; if they’re damaged then.. oh well

he definitely fiddles with pencils, and when he’s studying— the chance of him having a silver’s hand is likely (the thing where the graphite smeers on the back of your hand) he hates that shit

he definitely has a writer’s callus. PROVE ME WRONG!! that man writes a lot, and so do i so 😌 twinsies

but he tries to keep them clean, and he wants to make them feel less rough— so he will invest in some hand cream

compared to the other two, midoriya’s hands are normal in temperature.

but his grip is firm but he doesn’t really realize it sometimes.

you like his hands because.. the detail on his hands leave you mesmerized

but you don’t really wanna weird him out or make him uncomfortable. since he gets really flustered quick.

and you don’t want him to just stare at his hands and think about your fascination about them. no distractions

but he gets real pouty when you pull away

scenario

“hey Y/N, do you.. hate holding hands with me?” izuku asks one day, when you guys are studying in your room

“what?” you tilt your head, really surprised by his question— since you guys sat in silence for the last few minutes. you can feel the edge in your stomach grow when he mentions his hands.

“you always pull away when i try to hold your hand.” you gesture him to continue what he’s saying, and he continues “ but i get it though! my hands are.. scarred, rough. they’re kinda ugly compared to the rest of the guys.” he’s rambling, and you can’t help but feel really saddened.

“izuku, no.” you shake your head, “your hands aren’t ugly. yeah, they may be scarred and all— but they saved a lot of people, it saved eri, and it helped you get to where you are today.”

izuku’s cheeks flush with red, and he can’t say that you’re wrong. but; though he’s provided with reassurance, that’s not the answer he wanted

“but why won’t you hold my hand?”

“because i..” averting your eyes to the wall behind him, you’re looking for the right words. “i like your hands. i didn’t want to make you feel weird because of me.”

you look at his face after the confession, and it’s just ingulfed in a red shade.

on the contrary, this makes him like his hands more. everytime he looks at his hands, he’ll be motivated by your words.

but he’ll be a little shy with acting on it at first; especially in public

but fear not! izuku may seem innocent, but he also knows what he’s doing so.. don’t be decieved

when he’s studying, he’ll write with his right hand, and feed you little snacks with his left hand— urging you to open your mouth and take the snack

after sparring with you he’ll comment on how you did so good, also while placing his hands on your shoulder— massaging any sore parts

a little spicy, but when you guys are kissing, HIS HANDS WILL ROAM TO PLACES. pulling you closer as he attacks your lips

overall— he might be a little shy at first, but he can say he’s pretty accepting of your interest in his hands. it makes him feel better about the appearance of his hands.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i don’t profit off of my hobby.

do not reupload, translate, and use my work for any reading videos without my consent. do not plagiarize my work :))

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus 

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔 

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor 

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long! 

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron?? 

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[elysiadjarin]

Day 3: Dacryphilia

Jesse Cromeans may be a ruthless killer, but at home with you? You’re the one in charge. And especially those days when you’re annoyed at how long he’s been gone and he comes back so desperate for your attention… well. You did so like to see him cry.

Day 3 of Kinktober has arrived! I actually think I discovered some things about myself writing this one, so y’all enjoy. 😂 Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content only. This one is a slasher x reader fic, so please beware of mentions of murder and assault as part of the territory, though nothing is explicitly mentioned. PinV unprotected sex, dacryphilia, desperation, cumplay.

Tags: Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x reader, slasher x reader, yandere!reader, soft femdom, sub/dom themes

Paint Splatters over Canvas

It was rather funny, really.

You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the giant man standing in the doorway of the room staring at you. Jesse had always made a point of never touching you without your permission. A way for him to separate the meaningless victims of his murderous hobby with you, his wife, his everything. And while of course your relationship stayed perfectly strong, you well aware of his hobby and he well aware of your own tendencies… it did sometimes backfire on him in the best worst ways.

Like now. When you were annoyed with him because he’d been gone an entire day later than he’d promised, extra dark web cash be damned. A promise was a promise, and it wasn’t as though he’d needed the money. He did have a perfectly legal and highly successful business, after all. So shouldn’t you have come first?

You liked revenge cold, playing the long game; something you had in common with Jesse. And today, you certainly had plans put in place for said revenge. Which, for the time being, meant ignoring Jesse. You had plenty to occupy you, from communications for the business to just working on your own projects. Still, you’d made sure to be just nonchalant enough to let him know that it was all so… deliberate.

Jesse shuffled in the doorway, clearly wanting your attention but knowing better than to think any sort of demanding would get him anywhere. He’d learned the hard way that at home, his power over subordinates decidedly did not apply to you. When you didn’t give him any response, he hovered for a moment, clearly trying to decide on what to do next.

You knew how he would get after a mission. Needy. Wanting. Starved for attention and affection from you. Pent up for days, probably thinking about you every spare moment between takes.

With a hum, you typed out a message on your phone before standing and heading for the doorway. You briefly looked up to see him as you brushed past in the doorway. “Oh, hi, Jesse,” you said, giving him a brief, distracted smile. “I’m off to get ready for a meeting with a client.” You headed for the bedroom, already thinking about your next steps.

You could hear him following behind you, could almost feel the mounting despair as he started to realized what was happening. Why you had used his name instead of the usual love, darling. His shoulders hunched, and you could see his face twist as he clearly tried to think of what to do. He already knew that you’d have your revenge however you wanted: apologies would be expected but certainly wouldn’t get him any closer to mercy.

Walking into the bedroom, you headed straight for the bathroom to start preparing. Jesse still trailed along behind you like a forlorn, helpless puppy, and you swore you could almost hear him let out a small whine. Pausing for a moment in front of your vanity, you dialed your friend’s number and set it to speaker, putting it down on the countertop and sitting in front of the mirror.

You tied your hair up and reached for your cosmetics, beginning the process as the phone dialed. Your friend picked up quickly, already in on your plan thanks to your texting. She always approved of your payback plans.

Bestie! I thought you said you had to prepare for the meeting? I mean, yknow, not that I don’t like hearing from you. She cheerfully teased over the phone.

You smiled. “Well yeah, I just sat down to do my makeup. But I mean, we did say we were going to talk about the party for little Jacen this weekend, and what better time than now? You can help me pick out an outfit once I’m done,” you cajoled, noticing how Jesse sat on the edge of the jacuzzi bathtub, unabashedly staring at you. He always had loved watching you get ready for an event. Not that you minded.

Fair enough. Your best friend admitted readily. But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out for Jacen like this. She half scolded. It’s so much!

You laughed lightly, the creamy foundation smoothing across your skin. “Oh c’mon, he’s my adorable little nephew in all but name. He deserves to get spoiled by his doting Aunt, let me have my fun,” you wheedled, knowing she would cave.

She sighed over the receiver. I swear, girl, you could convince anyone into anything.

“Or maybe I’m just your weakness, Miss Mara,” you teased back. The soft brush in your fingers blended the contour onto your face, and you smiled as you glanced at the phone. “But anyway, did you manage to figure out what he might want for a birthday present? Or are we going with my original idea to let him loose in a mall?”

Oh, no, you are so not buying him everything he points at. I’d never get him to not be a spoiled brat if I let you.Mara snorted. I’ll text you what I figured out, he seems to be pretty fixated on it right now.

“Ugh, fineeee,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m going to at least get him that adorable motorized scooter I showed you before. He’s going to look so cute riding around in it.”

Fair enough I suppose. Better than the mall idea— wait, did you just get me to agree to something extravagant by threatening something so ridiculous—

“Anyway,” you interrupted blithely, “did you send out invitations to everyone?”

Yep, and I got back all the RSVPs. Speaking of which, I thought you said that you were meeting with the CEO of some business tonight? What’s that all about? I know you, you normally don’t like dealing with people.

You sighed. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag a little.” You pouted, reaching for the eyeshadow and liner. “Jesse was supposed to be back yesterday, but since he wasn’t I had to reschedule, and I promised to personally meet with the CEO in order to smooth over ruffled feathers. But besides that… I wanted to be there personally to see my best friend and her husband’s house finally paid off for their fifth anniversary.”

A pause. Then a screech that made you grin. You’re not serious! Babes, no, wait—

“No use protesting!” You said cheerfully, waving your brush. “It’s already been practically settled. Besides, you both need to start saving up for Jacen’s college funds. We did have the agreement that I’d open the doors to whatever college he wanted instead of just paying for it,” you reminded.

Ugh, I don’t know if I want to smack you or hug you, you sly little— Mara groaned. Wait till I tell Damien, he won’t know what hit him. She laughed. Thank you. You know how much it means to us. I won’t scold.

“Good.” You nodded. “And you know I’ll take care of you.”

She sighed. Never doubted it. So, how’s the process?

You hummed, pursing your lips as you finished the eyeshadow and grabbed the mascara. “About to do mascara, then all I have left is the lipstick. But shouldn’t I wait till we pick a dress before I actually pick a color?”

Probably. What’s the mood? You going for boss ass bitch, sultry Queen, or mysterious vampire lady? Amusement laced Mara’s voice.

“You’re not even in my house and yet you walked in and called me out to my face,” you said dryly, earning laughter. Jesse, you saw in the mirror, tilted his head with a small smile playing over his lips. He’d quietly observed the whole processes, eyes fixed on your face.

Only cause I love you. So, show me the closet, girl! Oh, show me your makeup first tho so we got reference.

You picked up the phone as you finished, turning on the camera so she could see your makeup sans the lipstick. She whistled, eyebrows wriggling teasingly as she grinned.

Oh, so mysterious vampire queen it is. She smirked. Closet. Though I do have the feeling that we’re going to be choosing a gorgeous red lipstick.

“Yes ma’am,” you answered, standing and heading for your closet. You heard Jesse stand and follow behind you, and stifled a smile. Flipping the camera, you started to flip through the racks of dresses. “Does that mean we’re leaning towards a black dress?”

Hmm, probably. Actually, how about one of your sleek black ones? The one with like, barely any frills and only a tiny bit of lace at the top. Off the shoulder. If you’re gonna try to assert dominance, probably drawing attention to your mouth and hands is the best way to go.

You tilted your head at the hangers, then nodded. “You’re right. Especially if I go for the red lipstick. I could also honestly use a glass of wine during that meeting,” you sighed.

Mara snickered. Blood in a wine glass? How stereotypical of you, madame.

“You hush, drama queen,” you said dryly, finding the dress she’d described and pulling it out.

Ooh, that’s the one! And I know you have that one crimson shade of lipstick that I always say looks vampiric.

You went back to the vanity and set the phone down, pretending to not notice that it showed Jesse standing in the doorway, clearly staring at you. You slid your shirt off, careful not to smudge any makeup, then slipped out of your pants and reached for the dress. Smoothing it over your front to get rid of any wrinkles, you sat back down and tilted the camera back to yourself, reaching for the lipstick.

“This one, right?” You waved it in front of your face.

Yep! That dress is stunning, by the way. Oh, and what are you doing with your hair?

“Ugh, I don’t really wanna bother too much with it, so I figured I’d go with the… messy, loose waves.” You shrugged, applying the lipstick.

Mara snorted. I think you mean, ‘sorry I’m late I was doing things’ while ignoring Jesse staggering behind you clearly radiating ‘I’m things’ energy.

You half-choked, laughing despite yourself. “Mara-! Seriously!”

She rolled her eyes at you. I’m just saying it like it is. But you go girlie, you look bomb. She laughed. Blow them all away. Be the boss bitch you are. A noise in the background interrupted her. Oop, that’s my cue. I gotta go, text me though okay?

“Will do, tell Damien and Jacen hi for me.” You smiled and hung up, finishing fluffing your hair. Standing, you grabbed the phone and headed for the door. “The meeting is in five minutes,” you remarked to Jesse as you passed him in the doorway. “If you want to join.”

You saw him type on his phone, the text to speech translator sounding a moment later. May I be there with you?

You flashed him a warm smile, as though you weren’t at all deliberately enacting revenge. “Of course! I’d love to have you there. Let’s go.” With a little hum, you headed towards the stairs.

Your phone pinged with a message. Girl, I swear he was drooling. You’re so mean sometimes. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

You suppressed a laugh, replying with one hand as your other slid down the bannister to guide you down the staircase. You know it. Mission so far successful. Wish me luck, I’m about to go into this meeting.

You looked up as you got to the bottom of the stairs, seeing an assistant waiting with the guest. The assistant bowed politely. “May I introduce Mr. Trace, CEO of Finley Bank.”

Giving the assistant a nod, you turned to Mr. Trace. “Greetings, Mr. Trace. Welcome! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I do apologize for the delay,” you said, taking charge and sweeping towards the parlor.

He followed after automatically. “Of course, Mrs. Cromeans,” he answered, quickly recovering from his moment of bewilderment.

You motioned to a chair, sitting on the velvet couch across the coffee table. “Please, please, have a seat,” you said, keeping the easy smile on your face. “Can I get you a drink? Anything at all?”

He blinked, sitting down and setting his briefcase next to him. “Ah— thank you. I’d appreciate a scotch on the rocks if it’s available.”

“Of course,” you said easily, nodding to the maid standing nearby. “A red wine for me, please.” You smiled at Jesse as he sat next to you. “Your regular?” you asked sweetly. At his nod, you turned back to the maid. “And a glass of dry white.”

She bowed and went to go fetch the drinks.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, Mr. Trace,” you said smoothly, “so I’ll not take any more of your time than necessary. Of course, as I said, I’d like to discuss several things with you…”

Twenty minutes later found you leaning against the arm of the couch, feet propped up beside you as you swirled the last dregs of the red wine, tapping the glass with your fingernails. The CEO had long since emptied his scotch, and Jesse was on his second glass. His fingers kept clenching around the flute of his glass every time your feet brushed against his thigh.

“Of course,” Trace said with a nod, jotting down the final notes on the paperwork. “Easily managed. Are there any other details you would like to add or anything else to discuss?” He looked up at you.

Your tactics of firm politeness and the scotch seemed to have worked their charm, and you’d been able to rather easily dominate the flow of the interaction. Not to mention, Mara had been right about appearances clearly setting a tone. Trace seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact with either you or Jesse.

“Not at all, Mr. Trace,” you said, a pleased note in your voice. “I’m rather pleased at how everything has turned out. We do so value your business, you know.” You tilted the glass in your fingers. “Shall I sign the papers?”

“At your leisure.” He slid them across the table toward you.

You slowly uncurled yourself like a lazy feline, straightening yourself and leaning over to set the glass down on the table. Grasping the pen, you slowly signed your name on the papers, eyes glancing over the print to ascertain that everything was in order. Shuffling through the papers, you finally set the pen down.

Trace took them back, glancing through them before nodding. “Everything seems to be in order.” He slid them back into his briefcase. “Thank you as always for your business, Mrs. Cromeans, Mr. Cromeans.”

You nodded, and Jesse stood, setting his glass down. You rose as well, sliding your arm into the crook of his elbow as he automatically adjusted for you. “And thank you for your help, Mr. Trace,” you answered easily. “I do hope you have a productive rest of the day. Do be safe out there.”

He nodded as the assistant returned to escort him out. “Same to you.”

With a hum, you absently patted Jesse’s arm and let yours slide out of his grasp, drifting towards the stairs again. “Oh, I need to go tell Mara it’s all confirmed. Besides, this dress is only comfortable for so long,” you remarked, pulling out your phone again.

Guess who completely owns their house now? You texted Mara, smiling. And your tactics worked, I think dominance was asserted.

You waltzed into the bedroom, headed straight for the closet. “Jesse, are you hungry? I think the food I ordered should have arrived by now, it should be in front of the TV. Maybe pick a movie? I still have a few messages to send.”

You changed into a comfortable black babydoll nightdress, sighing in relief as the silk slid over your skin. It was far more comfortable, and you could feel yourself finally starting to relax after the pent-up tension of the meeting. You really did hate dealing with people, especially ones like the CEO.

Your phone buzzed as you went to go pick it back up. You are literally the best. Now go finish seducing Jesse while I go figure out how to make this news sexy.

Stifling a snort, you went to go wipe your makeup off and wash your face. You could hear the sounds of the TV starting in the bedroom, so you took one more glance in the mirror before heading out into the room, still tapping at your phone. You still had to finish some arrangements for Jacen’s birthday, after all, and your revenge was still percolating.

Jesse’s head turned as soon as you approached the couch in front of the TV. You ignored the way he froze, sliding onto the couch and tucking your feet under a soft blanket. Sending off another message, you set it beside you and reached forward to grab a tray, pulling it into your lap.

“I figured you might not want anything too heavy since you just got back, so I kinda just made a guess and ended up ordering too much…” You frowned at the myriad of food laid out over the table. “Sorry, Jesse… I don’t even know if this is what you want—“

The text to speech cut you off. The food is fine, thank you. I’m sorry for being late. I know I can only make excuses, but I am sorry. Can I make it up to you?

A frown touched your lips as you picked up your spoon, still not looking at him. Your fingernails tapped against the screen of your phone. “Jacen asked the other day if Uncle Jesse would be at his party. I told him I didn’t know, but I’d ask.”

He quickly typed. Of course, if he asked for me, I’ll be sure to be there. His fingers paused, then he slowly typed again, as though hesitating. I got you a present while I was gone.

You hummed, swallowing your food and picking your phone back up. “He’ll be happy to hear it. And thank you for the present.” You sent a message to tell Mara that Jacen’s wish had been granted.

Jesse practically fidgeted as he ate, the movie playing in the background. You could feel his eyes slide from the screen to you, could almost hear the wheels in his head frantically turning. The tension in every line of his body was obvious, his movements stilted and jerky. He practically twitched every time you so much as moved.

Finally, you set down the tray, grabbing a mint to refresh your mouth. Shifting to get more comfortable, you angled yourself towards him a little more. You snitched a piece of food from his plate, letting out a hum as you smiled down at Mara’s message. If possible, Jesse stiffened even more, his fingers clenching so hard around his spoon that it even bent a little in his grasp.

A crumb fell from your fingers onto the lace edge of your nightgown, and you let out a quiet noise of protest as you looked down. Your fingers brushed against the top of your breast, brushing off the crumb. Sticking your finger in your mouth, you typed out a message in response to another conversation. With a sigh, you looked up and glanced over Jesse’s shoulder to see the lamp on the table next to him. Night had fallen, and shadows fell over the room.

Stirring yourself, you sat up, setting your phone down for a moment. “Can I turn on the lamp? I don’t wanna get up for the lights,” you said, starting to lean across him. Almost thoughtlessly, you placed your hand on his thigh and put your weight on it, reaching over his body on your hands and knees to pull at the cord on the lamp. The light clicked on, just as a low keening sound came from Jesse.

Your head tilted at the sound, and you turned to look up at his face. It was your turn to freeze.

Jesse’s face had crumpled, his soft green eyes literally awash with tears. His hands were clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with hitching breaths as he struggled to control his expression. The tears welled in his eyes, and faint color had splashed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Slowly, a smile crossed your lips as you stared up at his face. Leaning back, you tilted your head, licking your lips. “Oh, look at you,” you breathed. “You made all the little piggies cry, Jesse. But maybe it’s your turn, hmm?” Your eyes flickered down to the way his entire body trembled, every muscle taut and strained.

You moved, sliding your entire body into his lap to straddle his waist and face him. Crossing your arms under your chest, you stared into his face. “I don’t know… you broke your promise, though.” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he let out another hoarse whimper. Tears slid down his cheeks, his mouth opening for shuddering breaths.

He shook his head, lips trembling as he lifted one hand and signed. Sorry. Please. Sorry. His fingers spelled out your name.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands. You leaned up, face drawing closer to his. “But I already accepted your apology, love,” you cooed, smiling. “You know what I think?” You slowly dragged your tongue across his tear tracks, your body flushing with heat at the taste of the bitter salt. “I think,” you murmured against his jaw, “that I like seeing you cry.”

Jesse’s breath hitched on a sob, more tears spilling down his cheeks. It was fairly intoxicating, seeing the giant man completely fall apart under you, trapped between his desperation and his personal standards. When you slid forward, your body pressing flush against him, another sob wrenched from his gritted teeth.

You decided for the moment to have a bit of mercy. Reaching down, you grasped his wrists and lifted his hands to your waist. His fingers instantly clenched in the silk babydoll dress, shaking as he grabbed at your waist. His entire body lurched forwards towards you, eyes fixed on your face.

You hummed softly, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “Your eyes are so pretty when they’re filled with tears, Jesse,” you purred, drawing his face closer to you. Still, you refused to kiss him, instead trailing your lips down his jaw, down to his throat. You opened your mouth against his neck, savoring the taste of his skin and the soft scent of his cologne.

Jesse’s trembling fingers jerked against your waist, and he slumped into you. His hands slid over your waist to your lower back, his touch practically reverent as he squeezed. His breaths came quick and fast, breaking occasionally on a sob. Every time you suckled or moved your lips, every time your hands slid down his shoulders, he gasped and shuddered, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

You slid your hands down, starting to unbutton his shirt. Your tongue dragged across his neck, and you felt the bulge in his pants throb against your thigh. “Isn’t this punishment fair, darling?” you cooed. “I only ask for a few tears, hmm? A front row seat to your pretty eyes?”

His head jerked, even though it wrenched another tortured sob from him. Despite the contact, you could feel his frustration mounting.

You pulled back, looking up at him as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh, you don’t think so?” Your fingers slid across his bared chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “But isn’t this what you wanted? Me, paying attention to you?”

His gasps had turned ragged. His hips jerked, rutting up against your thigh. A strangled noise left his throat, his eyes squeezing shut. His grip on your waist threatened to leave fingerprints against your skin.

“No?” You bit your lip, raking your nails lightly against his chest. “Then what is it you want, hmm?”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, unconsciously licking his own. His fingers clenching, he pulled you down to grind against his cock, straining in his trousers. Pants fell from his mouth, and he kept glancing from your eyes to your lips.

You reached down, teasingly trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Unzipping his trousers, you looked up at his face and smiled as you traced one fingertip down the bulge in his underwear. His eyes fairly rolled back in his head, more tears streaming down his face afresh.

“Look at you, already such a mess,” you murmured, sliding your fingers into his underwear. The moment you wrapped a hand around his cock and slid up, you were rewarded with a guttural groan. He gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to stay still. With a soft laugh, you leaned up and brushed a kiss to his ear.

You tugged at his collar. “Why don’t you lie down for me?” you murmured.

He immediately complied, his hands still clamped around your waist as he turned and shifted up, lying down on the couch. He stared up at you, face still twisted in agony and desperation.

Lifting yourself a little, you tilted your head at him. “Take your pants off for me?”

He practically kicked his pants and underwear off in his haste. You guided one of his hands to the latch on the side of your own panties, giving him an amused smile and nod. His trembling fingers unlatched them, his chest heaving as he watched the black silk slide away from your skin. The moment you lowered back down onto him, his cock throbbed against you and his back arched.

Leaning forward, you hummed a pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Jesse, love,” you murmured. “Cry for me a little more?” You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your wetness coat his own length as you ground against his tip. But you deliberately kept shifting, not giving him any steady pressure.

Another broken whine came from him, and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. Frustration scrunched his face, his neck mottled with red and flushing down to his shoulders and chest, making your white nail marks stand out. His hips jerked, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You pressed down against him again, feeling his cock slip against your wet folds teasingly.

His head jerked in a nod, almost violently. Tremors kept running through his arms, his body occasionally shuddering under you.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip between yours. Your teeth nipped at his lip, and you finally slanted your mouth over his. Tears poured afresh down his cheeks as he desperately pulled at you, trying to get closer, kiss you more. You relented and let him, thumbs brushing against his jaw as you hummed softly into his frantic, pleading kisses. Without warning, you slipped your tongue between his lips, feeling his mouth part with alacrity. When you finally parted, his green eyes were glazed over with tears, hazily staring at you.

Then you smiled at him slyly. “I think you’ve deserved a little bit more,” you decided.

The moment you slid his tip into you, he choked. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling for breath. His entire body froze, humming taut under you and his eyes sightlessly staring up at the ceiling.

You observed his wrecked expression, licking your lips with satisfaction. Rarely did Jesse ever fully submit to you like this, usually a brat. But tonight, you had absolute and utter control, and you intended to milk every last ounce of satisfaction out of it. The memories would fuel you for years of his utterly ruined expression, tears slipping down his cheeks as he drooled uncontrollably.

“So pretty, darling,” you purred, licking the tears from his cheek. You gave him another kiss, letting his hands wander over your waist and up your front. “So good for me. Do you think you can handle more?”

His eyes widened, breath quickening. He glanced down, then shook his head jerkily. Then nodded. Then shook his head.

You tilted your head. “Hmmm.” A wicked grin crossed your lips. “No? Oh, but I think you can,” your said, just as you lifted yourself and fully sheathed him inside you.

Jesse sobbed. His mouth opened, tongue lolling as he gasped. Tears poured down his cheeks from the mingled pleasurable pain and relief. His cock throbbed inside you, and his hands grasped desperately at your thighs. His entire body started to shake, arching.

You barely gave him time to adjust before you were already bouncing on him, hands braced against the back of the couch. Laughter spilled from your lips, delighted and cruel, as his hands scrabbled against your thighs, raking across your skin. Moans kept being torn from his throat, your name framed on his lips.

As soon as you angled your hips and brought your fingers down to ring tight circles on your clit, you hissed in pleasure. You pulsed around his cock, earning another helpless sob and wave of tears. He just hit that one spot inside you perfectly, again and again, until you bit your lip and moaned his name as you came around him. Your body clenched down on him, even as you kept fucking yourself through your orgasm.

More laughter spilled from your lips. “Are you gonna cum for me, Jesse, my pretty darling?” you asked breathlessly, purposely moaning his name. “Gonna cum inside me?”

The only warning you got from Jesse was another sob and the gritting of his teeth. His hands flew to your hips, slamming you down on him one more time before holding you there with an iron grip. Gasps tore from his mouth, his eyes trying to blink away tears as he stared up at you.

You hummed, caressing his hands and arms as you bit your lip in satisfaction. He kept pouring into you, his hips jerking once in a while and wringing a whimper from him. Finally, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His lips parted under yours weakly, chest heaving under your hands.

“Thank you, Jesse,” you cooed sweetly between kisses. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good.” Your mind fuzzed with the pleasure of both your high and the sight of his tears.

He pushed up against you, kissing you fervently. Though he didn’t say a word, you could feel his thoughts through his drugged, sloppy kiss.

You giggled, teasingly clenching down on him one more time and earning a jerk and grunt. “And I forgive you. But don’t do it again, okay?”

Jesse’s calculating look as he clearly weighed the consequences made you roll your eyes but laugh. Maybe this one would turn out to backfire against you, next time.

You decided it was worth it.

[osakunt]

Hello dear ! I don’t know if you write for Hakkai but if you do, could you write an x fem reader in which the reader discovers the scar he has because of when his brother beat him up. And he’ll all embarrassed about it…

(Fluff and/or angst one shot pls🙏🏼)

It’s okay if you won’t write it ! Have a nice day<3

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➫ 𝗛𝗮𝗸𝗸𝗮𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗮 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 [𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽]

➫ 𝗢𝗛 𝗬𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗦𝗦 !! 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼𝗼, 𝗹𝗼𝗹. 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹. 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 <𝟯

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It is said that Hakkai is timid around girls and took him a while to get used to being around Hinata - a little too long, actually. But this didn’t stop him from getting close to you through the years and developing a crush that then resulted him becoming your boyfriend. One thing that did bother him here and there was the scar going down his lips that no matter how he saw it you’d always tell him that,that scar didn’t matter. That nobody cared about it. In your opinion it made him look hot.

The first his insecurities came in was when he realized he liked you. You had been around when he was scouted as the second in command for Mitsuya’s division but shortly after sentenced to house arrest for beating up some kid at school, causing his parents to press charges. When you came back you were put back into the second division and automatically noticed Hakkai. Not because you didn’t know him but because he avoided you. You didn’t think much of it but once Toman was dismantled and you two went to the same high school it made you think if the youngest of the Shiba siblings didn’t like you.

Going to Mitsuya, you sit down on a bench outside the school where he was drawing up a very detailed design for a jacket. “Da’ya know why Hakkai doesn’t like me ? Is it cause I beat up that kid a few years ago or cause he simply doesn’t like me ?” You look over at Mitsuya who smiles in amusement. “Why don’t you go and ask him yourself.” “…..yea,good point- I’ll beat the answer out of ‘em” you get up pulling the hem of your uniform skirt down that had risen” “try to not give him another scar, (y/n)” Mitsuya waves you off still looking down at his drawing “….did she just say she’d beat him up for answers ?!…..Baji you sure did corrupt that girl”

After long hours of sitting down, the school day came to an end. “Wonder what ‘Suya meant when he said to not give the kid another scar.” As you approach the school enterence you spot Hakkai who makes eye contact with you then quickly looks down- his hair falling over his face covering up his scar. You didn’t really get to take in his face even when you met so now was your chance to poke at the nagging wonder of the scar and ask him why he was avoiding you.

Catching up to him , you pull the sleeve of his shirt roughly, yanking him back. You look up at him with a stern look. “So how come you don’t like me ?” “I-I-I-what !? W-who said I don’t like you ?? I like you-like you!” He panicked giving himself away. Your eyes shine, looking up at his scar. Reaching up to touch it he flinches then turns his head to the side so you wouldn’t look at his scar “please don’t look at it” he mumbles embarrassed. You understanding you don’t try to get him to show you - nope not that. Instead you turn around pulling up your uniform shirt to show him the diagonal scar going down your back. “Got this while fighting against a few black dragon members. I stopped going to the beach with the others afraid of showing the scar when I first got it. I didn’t want my bathing suit top to expose my imperfection but as time went on , I accepted it. This scar shows that I survived the stab and I’m pretty damn proud that I survived a deep wound” you turn back around pulling your shirt back down - seeing Hakkai’s dumbfounded expression. He never would have thought that you would have such a scar, so it blew him away when you showed him with ease.

You invite him to walk with you the reaminaing of the distance home. The walk was silent but a comfortable silence. Stealing looks at you, Hakkai decides that he’d tell you how he got his scar. You had told him about yours so easily so it wouldn’t hurt to tell you his scar story. “Taiju got pissed one day….he then came for me - square to the face.” He tells you looking down at his shoes, afraid to look up.

“Hakkai, I think your scar is hot. It also shows that you survived. Survived being under an abusive brother. You and Yuzuha went through hell but you’re both free of him now.” You speak lettinghim know that things were alright on your part. “…uh..uhm…how about we go to the store a block from here and get some food. Let’s hang out afterwards, yea ?” You smile at him dismissing the sorrow that was feeding his insecurity. From then on you two got close and by the time you two graduated y’all started going out.

[𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲]

“What if they don’t like me ? They’ll judge me by my appearance? Who’d want a dude with a scar going straight down his face on that run way !!?” Hakkai points to his scar stopping in the middle of the room looking at you and his sister. He was to be on the run way in less than ten minutes and manses was freaking out.

Yuzuha steps out the room to get him some water to calm down, leaving you and him behind. “Love, this isn’t the first time you’re in the run way. You’re gorgeous Hakkai !! Remember that” you fix up the small crease on the street wear clothing that was to be modeled by him. All the walking from side to side had the shirt start to pop out and crease from the movement he had going. Fixing it up quickly , you look up at him with a smile reassuring him that things were going to be alright. Bending down he gives you a kiss then consumes you into a hug squeezing you slightly. “Ya sure about that, doll ?” “Of course I am. You’re the best looking model these people have - now c’mon I wanna see my fine ass fiancé cat walk !!”

As the show went on and Hakkai’s turn came around for him to walk - the crowd went wild with seeing him walk. His stature, his expression, his looks, the clothing and the scar that added to his looks. Had people fanboying and fangirling over him. Finding you in the crowd he looked like he was about to cry from how the crowd had reacted; the happy feeling bubbling inside him boosted his confidence resulting in him giving his best performance yet. After the show was over Yuzuha hugs you “whatever you did to get him up there and not pussy out, is beyond me but thank you” “aw, Yuzu, a little reassuring goes a long way.” You wink at her letting go of her embrace and making your way backstage.

“YOU DID IT, BABY !!” You run towards the tall male tackling him onto the floor. “I sure did, huh ? Thank you” he chuckles under you. “Wanna go to the twins place ? They’ll give us free food!! I’ll get the whole group to meet us there, they made it just in time to see you walk” “free food ?? HELL YEA !! ” you two get up, sprinting to the closest exit dragging along his sister to celebrate the accomplishment.

[cognitos-handbook]

dude you did so great with my previous ask. also, i just gotta describe this cuz it's eating my brain:

so like most people, i like to think sex is less intimate than soft stuff like kissing and cuddles for myc because he has casual sex or goes to orgies so often. once you're in like a serious relationship with myc, like living together n shit, i just imagine him being the first to wake up and him seeing his s/o lying there nude and vulnerable with him, and him just absolutely melting inside because he's not used to receiving real, genuine love or having someone that wants to stick with him for his personality and not his six dicks. and him just maybe sorta brushing their hair away from their face, touching them real gentle like, just admiring them and thinking about all the good shit he feels when he's with them. a little angsty because maybe he thinks about how hurt he's gonna be when they leave him because it's so hard for him to trust that they'll stay, but he really really wants to believe they will. also, if he's feeling really appreciative, i imagine he'd be the type of guy to wake you up with some soft, attentive morning sex because he just wants to show you how good you make him feel and how much he really adores you being there in the morning.

not a request, but if you wanna write some stuff about this i wouldn't complain 💕 thanks for listening lol

Oh my god I absolutely adore all of this - I 100% agree with you, no doubts in my mind.

Nobody can change my mind on when Myc really, actually cares for someone, he’s a soft fuckin bastard. Even if he won’t readily admit or even show it lmfao

Just… the way you care for him so shamelessly and with care for more than just sex and his abilities, so much as to trust him? Stay with him?

Genuinely admiring and caring for someone is something that he actively tries to avoid, usually. It comes with too many complications, things he’s found himself less and less willing to deal with again and again.

But then he actually starts liking the gang. And then he starts really caring for you.

He’s def the type to just kinda… admire you in private moments like you mentioned. Where it’s just the two of you, where you don’t have to worry about anyone but each other?

You’d be surprised how often soft sex and things of that sort actually do come from him, were you anyone else from outside your relationship. But really it’s a huge plus for the both of you,, when you’re in the mood <3

I think he does have trouble with being more sappy and like… outright soft? But he has his moments here and there, and even if it’s not in the traditional way he still makes sure you know he cares. Y’all know each other well enough to tell the difference between a loving jest and a frustrated one lmao

I just have… a lot of thoughts. Myc is a super fun and interesting character and the amount of potential he has is so fucking good bro

I honestly could not put it more perfectly than you did though frfr

Always down to listen!!! I love hearing others’ thoughts on things <33

[aquaquadrant]

nature’s productions - chapter three

Rated T for: Strong language, canon-typical violence and gore, minor character death

Summary: Three years after the disaster at Jurassic World, Claire Dearing and Owen Grady are contracted for a mission to save as many dinosaurs as possible from the impending eruption on Isla Nublar. But when they arrive, they experience an unexpected complication; six teenagers who were left stranded on the island when the park closed.

Surviving has left the campers scarred in more ways than one, and they’re pretty sure that their would-be rescuers have less than good intentions. But with a volcanic eruption at their heels, they’ll do whatever it takes to get a ride home- and save the dinosaurs while they’re at it, because that’s kind of their thing.

A/N: Hey readers, it’s good to be back! My first year of vet school is over and I’m SO ready to get some writing done. Thank you all so much for your patience and your continued support- it’s been lovely reading your comments. This time, as promised, we’ve got some ACTION so I hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do! - Aqua

This fic is also posted on my AO3 account (same name).

~*~

chapter three - natural selection; or survival of the fittest

~*~

“You’re headed the right way now, we’ll let you know when you’re close.”

Claire’s voice is tense as she relays Franklin’s instructions into her radio, her eyes glued to the digital map. Both seem incredibly nervous, for people who aren’t actually on the mission to capture a raptor. Sammy finds it touching that they care so much about their friends. If the campers were still uncertain about this group’s intentions, this would’ve been a strong indication that they’re good people.

But they’ve already come to a consensus that Claire and Franklin can be trusted. Owen and Zia, too- Sammy figures that’s why Darius had the herd split up, so that they could make sure everyone in the group gets off the island safely. It’s been hard to follow a plan that changes as they go, like laying tracks down in front of a moving train, but they all trust Darius’s judgement and are used to thinking on their feet.

The campers have considered warning Claire and Franklin about what’s to come, but they don’t want to be overheard. The tunnel leading outside is still open, allowing the occasional sounds from the troopers to filter in: radio feedback, low muttering, and the rumbling of truck engines. Leaving their engines on is a surefire sign that they expect to clear out pretty quickly, probably as soon as Wheatley has Blue.

So it seems like this double-cross will be a ‘left for dead’ situation instead of an ‘attempted murder’ one, which is much more preferable.

Sammy’s a little disappointed that the troopers seem fine with leaving them along with Claire’s team, but she’s not surprised. Having six random teenage witnesses would probably put a wrench into their plans. She just hopes that the betrayal on Darius’s side goes just as smoothly, and none of them end up getting hurt.

Yaz has taken it upon herself to keep watch by the exit, leaning against the wall. If the troopers do decide to make a move, at least they won’t be taken by surprise. Sammy catches Kenji’s gaze and nods towards the pair at the monitors; they should take advantage of this time to establish a good rapport with Claire and Franklin, earn their trust.

It’ll make things easier, when they all have to work together to get off this island.

Kenji takes the hint right away, casually wandering over towards the control station with his hands in his pockets. “So hey, this is pretty cool,” he says appraisingly. “Something like this def would’ve come in handy before. How’d you know how to work it, Geek Squad?”

It seems to take Franklin a second to realize he’s the one being addressed. “O- oh! Um, it wasn’t that hard. Claire’s palm scan allowed me to bypass all the security measures, and at that point, it’s pretty user-friendly.” And then his eyes widen, and he hastily adds, “Not that I’m saying you guys are dumb, cause I’m not! Cause you’re not. Dumb, I mean.”

Kenji shares an amused look with Sammy. User-friendly, their ass. Back when they used the security system to counteract Mitch and Tiff, it had taken a lot of collective brainpower to figure out how to work it. What did Jurassic World have against labeling their controls, anyways?

But of course, they can’t share that particular bit of information. Not while they’re still pretending they haven’t had any human contact since being stranded.

Kenji claps Franklin on the shoulder, making him jump in his chair. “Hey, relax, we don’t bite,” he laughs. Then he pauses, in contemplation. “Well, Ben might if you sneak up on him.”

Franklin manages a weak laugh.

“He’s not joking,” Yaz chimes in from her post, without taking her eyes off the exit.

“Oh.” Franklin gulps.

“But seriously,” Kenji continues, some of his humor giving way to sincerity, “I know we look like a super intimidating, super awesome team of badass dino rangers, but we’re still just a bunch of kids. Or, actually, me and Yaz might’ve had our eighteenth birthdays pass by now, but you get the point.”

“Right,” Sammy agrees, “we’re just so relieved to actually have, y’know, actual adults around!”

That gets Claire to look over at them, her brows pinching together. “I can’t imagine what you all have been through,” she says sympathetically. “I promise, we’ll get you on that boat as soon as we can.”

Sammy gives her a warm smile, though inwardly she knows it’s a hollow promise. Claire might not know it, but she has little say in the matter. “So…” Sammy drawls, subtly changing the subject, “I couldn’t help but notice you an’ this Owen fella seem… close.”

Claire jolts in surprise. “What?”

“Am I right?” Sammy grins, noting the way Claire blushes. “Ooh, I betcha I am!”

Yaz snorts. “Sammy’s good at picking up on these things,” she says amiably. “Trust me.”

Claire tries to cover up her reaction with a laugh. “No, no, no, we aren’t- well, we were, but-”

“I knew it!” Sammy pumps a fist in the air.

“It was a long time ago!” Claire protests.

Kenji tuts. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed!” he tells Claire earnestly. “That dude is built.”

Yaz scoops a pebble off the ground and thwacks it at Kenji’s head. “Don’t be gross!”

“Ow!” Kenji rubs the back of his head, indignant. “What, I’m just stating a fact! I have a boyfriend, I’m not blind.”

“For the record,” Sammy cuts in swiftly, “I think y’all make a cute couple.”

Their antics have only made Claire flush even more. She makes a noncommittal noise. “Owen and I just… didn’t work, okay?” Her eyes trace one of the dots on the digital map- the one representing Owen’s signal. “We were together when Jurassic World fell. After that, we got together, but… I don’t know. I still care about him as a friend, but that’s all.”

“If ya say so,” Sammy hums.

Yaz straightens up, taking a sudden interest in the conversation. “It felt like you didn’t actually have anything in common with each other, except for what you went through, right?” she asks quietly. “Like… there was nothing keeping you together except mutual trauma?”

Claire raises her eyebrows. “... I guess you could put it that way, yes,” she murmurs, taken aback.

“Mmm.” Yaz nods thoughtfully; she knows the feeling. “Word of advice?”

Claire blinks. “Of course.”

“Maybe you’re right, maybe not.” Yaz shrugs. “But someone who understands what you’ve been through- who’s actually been through it themself- is incredibly valuable to have in your life.” She briefly catches Sammy’s eye, and a gentle smile pulls at her lips before she turns back to Claire. “Even if you’re just friends. So don’t run away from it, okay?”

Claire’s expression softens. “That’s… thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hey guys,” Kenji breaks in, sounding bored, “if we’re done with all the lovey-dovey talk, those dots are getting kinda close.”

Sammy would admonish him for ruining the sweet moment, and for acting like he’s too cool for romance when he acts so darn smitten with Ben, but he’s not wrong; the two dots on the map, Owen and Blue, are starting to converge. She doesn’t know what scale the map is using, but it’s an abrupt reminder of the reason they’re here.

“They’re a mile out,” Franklin reports, before Claire has a chance to ask.

“Okay.” Claire takes a deep breath and reaches for her radio. “Um, Owen? You’re about a mile out now, better to go on foot from here.”

Sammy exchanges a private smile with Yaz; she noticed the slight flutter in Claire’s voice when she said Owen’s name, too.

~*~

Darius hops out of the truck, landing on the ground with a soft thump.

The troopers are all gathered in a loose huddle, awaiting instructions in tense silence. Zia’s already forced her way out of her truck to meet them, clearly insistent on not being left behind. Darius offers her a smile, which she returns somewhat faintly- even though she volunteered to come, it’s obvious she’s way out of her element. That makes Darius respect her decision even more.

Slipping through the crowd as politely as he can, Darius makes his way to Ben and Brooklynn, who are standing a few feet away. Ben is surveilling as always, his keen eyes watching the troopers as Brooklynn listens to the jungle around them. They both acknowledge his arrival with a brief glance before returning to their business. Now that Darius is beside them again, he feels his nerves start to settle. He trusts their abilities far more than these troopers, and even the knowledge that they’re about to walk into a raptor’s den can’t shake his faith in them.

Imminent betrayal or not, they can handle this.

“Alright, listen up,” Wheatley calls, loud enough to get everyone’s attention but still hushed out of wariness. He then claps Owen on the shoulder, inviting him to take over.

“Okay, here’s the plan.” Owen jerks his head over at the campers. “Me and these three are going alone. Everyone else stay within range, but do not get close enough for her to hear or smell you. Once we find Blue and I’ve calmed her down, I’ll give you the signal to move in.”

One of the troopers scoffs. “You’re bringing the kids?” he demands, his disbelief evident.

“I can draw her out,” Ben explains evenly, staring the trooper down with folded arms. “And these two stay with me.”

“Besides,” Brooklynn chimes in with a deceptively sweet smile, “we know our way around dinosaurs a lot better than you guys. No offense.”

Offense is clearly taken, but Brooklynn doesn’t feel bad for it. She’s right, after all.

“Once I give the signal,” Owen continues pointedly, before more complaints can arise, “I want one man to approach and administer the tranq. Don’t all come rushing in, or she’s gonna spook. As soon as she’s out, our doc’s gonna take a quick look at her to make sure she’s alright before we load her up.” His stern gaze drifts around the group. “Does everyone understand?”

The resulting chorus of ‘Yes, sir’ sounds a little begrudging to Darius’s ears; clearly, they don’t like taking orders from Owen. Probably because they’re plotting to betray him. That seems like the kind of thing that’d put a damper on workplace relations.

“Good.” Owen looks over at Darius. “You three ready?”

Darius nods, only half-listening. He’s laying out the plan in his mind, envisioning each step unfolding. If the troopers keep out of the way, getting Blue down should be the easy part. Wheatley will probably wait for Zia to give the all-clear before turning on them- that’d make the most sense, anyways.

So once Blue is down, Darius will have to alert Owen to the situation somehow, make sure he’s ready to run in case Wheatley plans to kill them instead of just leaving them for dead. They might have to help Zia get away, too, if she doesn’t react fast enough. They can scatter into the jungle- it won’t be worth Wheatley’s time to chase them down, not with the eruption brewing- and meet up with the others at the security building. Most likely, the troopers will just abandon them once they get confirmation that Wheatley has Blue. Yaz, Sammy, and Kenji should be expecting it, and will make sure Claire and Franklin don’t get themselves killed.

After they get that far, then Darius will worry about how they’re going to sneak onto the boat.

“Alright Claire, where to?” Owen asks, putting a hand to his earpiece. He listens for a moment. “We’re headed northeast,” he tells them. Then, he shoots a final look at Wheatley. “Don’t move in until I signal.”

“I got it,” Wheatley huffs, waving him off. “Get moving.”

Ben’s lip twitches- he’s only just stopped himself from scowling. Darius lightly bumps his shoulder before following Owen. The troopers part to let them through, faces impassive, and it feels an awful lot like walking to an execution.

Darius keeps his eyes forward, focusing on Ben and Brooklynn’s presence behind him. They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay. They can handle this.

They forge into the jungle in silence. Owen is better than most at moving quietly, but every accidental twig snap or ruffled fern makes Darius wince. Their own movements are so silent, Owen keeps checking behind himself to make sure they’re still there.

Brooklynn is almost entirely concentrated on listening, and is relying on Ben to guide her, following in his cautious footsteps with one hand on his arm. After all, the biometric system is only tracking Blue, and there could be any number of other dinosaurs out here that Claire won’t be able to warn them about. Brooklynn’s hearing is the best warning system they’ve got.

After they’re a few minutes out from the rest of the convoy, Darius debates warning Owen about the impending trap. They won’t get a chance to speak in private again once everything goes down. But Owen’s communicating with Claire through a frequency that might not be private; Wheatley and all the troopers had radios, and there’s no way of knowing if they’re being listened to. Owen’s mic could pick up anything Darius says to him.

Too risky. They’re just going to have to roll with the punches as they come.

Eventually, the jungle gives way to a decent-sized clearing, bordered by lush ferns and vine-strangled trees. The thick jungle canopy stretches above them, allowing only scant rays of light to peer through and leaving them cast in dappled shadows. An overturned jeep lay nestled among the foliage, tires long stripped from the rusted metal frame and the Jurassic Park logo faded and peeling. They’re definitely getting near the old park now. They could probably go a bit further, but it’ll be best to confront Blue in an open area.

Ben’s already scanning the treeline and Brooklynn’s listening for anything beyond the normal jungle sounds. Together, they give Darius the sign for ‘All clear.’ Heart starting to race, Darius signals them forward. Cautiously, the three of them creep into the middle of the clearing, shifting until they’re back-to-back. Weapons left in their sheaths, they slowly lower themselves onto their knees- in a way that would allow them to spring to their feet readily, if needed- and keep their arms lax by their sides. The goal is to look as unthreatening as possible when Blue arrives.

Darius catches Owen’s gaze from across the clearing and gives him a reassuring smile- he’s looking very alarmed, quite frankly- before glancing sideways at Ben. Their eyes meet, and Darius nods.

Ben takes a deep breath, and cups his hands to his mouth.

The spitting imitation of a raptor pierces the air; several short, high-pitched trills in rapid succession. Ben’s uncanny knack for vocalizations and Darius’s knowledge of raptor calls have, after many practice sessions, yielded the ability for them to call for help.

A call that Blue, a lone raptor missing her pack, won’t be able to resist answering.

Owen’s look of pure bewilderment almost makes Darius forget about the incredible danger they’re in. Ben finishes the call and falls silent, watching Brooklynn for confirmation. If they’ve fooled Blue, she’ll answer, but if she’s far away, he might not be able to hear it.

Tense silence. And then, a near identical call rings out- it’s faint, but it sends chills across Darius’s skin anyways. Brooklynn hears it loud and clear, of course, and squeezes Ben’s arm. He takes only a second to process this development before returning the call again.

‘Help. Help. Help.’

Darius does some quick, rough math in his mind. Raptors maintain an average speed of about twenty-five miles per hour, but can sprint in bursts of up to forty. If Blue’s within a mile of their location, she can reach them in less than two minutes.

Owen’s looking very anxious, now. “She’s coming our way,” he whisper-yells, barely audible from this distance.

Darius reaches for Ben and Brooklynn’s arms, giving a light squeeze as if to steady them, telling them to hold. They’re so used to running from dinosaurs that just sitting here, out in the open, goes against their every instinct. But if they start running, Blue’s prey drive will kick in, and she’ll most certainly give chase. They need this encounter to happen on their terms, not hers.

Seconds trickle by. Darius’s heart is pounding in his ears, making him appreciate Brooklynn’s hearing even more. Every sound has her twitching- tree branches swaying in the wind, sudden bird calls from the canopy above, even the faint rumblings of the volcano in the distance.

All too soon, Brooklynn is glancing towards the jungle, her breath catching. Darius follows her gaze and sees movement- rustling in the bushes.

Except the rustling is way too low to be Blue. A heartbeat later, and Darius is proven right- a small group of compies darts out of the underbrush, their little clicks and squeals as irritating as ever.

The compies barely give them a second glance before moving on, racing off into the jungle. That’s the first sign that something else is coming. The second sign is Brooklynn’s head snapping back towards the treeline, her whole body going rigid. And finally, Owen’s hand goes to his earpiece, his face paling.

She’s here.

The raptor emerges from the jungle almost leisurely, her sides still heaving as she catches her breath from her run. Shadows ripple along her turquoise scales as she steps out into the clearing. She notices them right away, of course, stopping in her tracks. The wicked talons of her feet tap rapidly against the ground, the infamous clicking sound muffled as they dig into the soil.

Darius is well-accustomed to reading dinosaur body language, especially when they’re as expressive as a raptor. He can almost see Blue’s thoughts spelled out in the slant of her eyes, the way her nostrils flare, the position of her head and tail as she circles them.

She recognizes them. She knows they’ve never hurt her- in fact, actually helped her before- so they’re no threat. But she wasn’t expecting to find them here, deep within her territory when she was following the call of a raptor. She also doesn’t quite know what to make of their submissive posture, shifting her weight uncertainly, claws scraping the soft earth beneath her.

She’s eaten recently; there’s fresh blood stains on her teeth and lips, and her stomach is ever-so-slightly distended. That’s good. She won’t waste energy hunting them, and will only attack if threatened. They just really have to make sure they don’t threaten her.

Moving slow and careful, Ben lifts his hands to make one final call- just so Blue knows it was them.

Blue jerks her head back in what can only be described as surprise. Small, chittering sounds bubble up from the back of her throat. She’s curious- why call for her? How do they know her tongue? Her lip curls- she doesn’t like it. But she wants to know why and how, and for the moment, it’s outweighing her uncertainty.

Blue dares to take a step closer, towards Ben. The raptor sniffs at him hesitantly, rumbling a low warning deep in her chest. Ben remains perfectly still, his eyes lowered so as not to pose a challenge. Brooklynn has her face turned enough to watch, ready to act if Blue looks like she’s going to make a move. Darius takes the opportunity to find Owen’s gaze across the clearing, taking in his wide eyes and clenched jaw, and nod.

Owen takes the cue, emerging from the underbrush.

“Hey girl,” he says, voice soft and low, “you miss me?”

Instantly, Blue forgets about the three of them. Lowering her head, she stalks a wide path around the clearing, circling Owen as she hisses. She’s agitated, clenching and unclenching her razor-sharp claws, but the chirping sounds she’s making are inquisitive. Her head jerks to the side, examining Owen in that bird-like manner of hers.

“Easy…” Owen murmurs, shifting slowly to keep Blue in front of him. One hand is held out, placating, and he doesn’t flinch when Blue suddenly snaps at the air. “Hey! Hey,” he says sternly, as if chastising a misbehaving child.

Darius can’t tear his gaze away. He’s seen it with Ben and Bumpy, but to actually witness this kind of communication between a human and a raptor is astounding. It’s clear Blue isn’t- and never was- actually tame, but she certainly recognizes Owen. The fact that she’s letting him get this close is a testament to the bond they once shared.

“Brought you something,” Owen says, slowly reaching into the pack on his belt. He withdraws a shred of dried meat, which makes Blue draw up short, nostrils flaring. “Here you go. That’s right.”

He tosses the treat at Blue; she lets it hit her lips and drop to the ground. A low growl starts up in her throat as she narrows her eyes.

Owen blinks. “... Okay.”

Blue’s lips peel back into a snarl, and she takes a faux swipe at him, testing him.

“Hey, nope,” Owen chides her, voice firm but still low. He’s got something else clenched in his fist- suddenly, mechanical clicking fills the air. “Eyes on me, yeah?”

Blue pauses, dropping the growl as she tilts her head. Her eyes widen in clear recognition, and she mimics the clicking sound, which Owen then repeats.

Darius can barely hold back his grin. Jurassic World never made their raptor training protocols public, proprietary information and all that, but he’d always theorized a clicker training system could be extremely effective due to the raptors’ innate ability to differentiate and replicate a vast lexicon of sounds-

Brooklynn is giving him a look, as if saying, ‘Only you could be nerding out right now.’

Darius gives her a sheepish smile; ‘Guilty as charged.’

Owen is less than a foot away from Blue. “Yeah, yeah… you know me.” Carefully, he stretches his hand out towards her nose. He’s inches away. “That’s right… that’s right…”

Darius holds his breath- and then Brooklynn stiffens, her head whipping around.

A tranquilizer dart flies through the air, embedding itself in Blue’s neck.

~*~

“Owen? Owen, what’s happening?”

There’s nothing but static from the radio. Claire’s heart is racing; she’d only just told him that Blue had arrived, and then there was some sort of commotion before the line went dead. The digital map is still showing the signal’s location, along with Blue’s, but Owen simply isn’t responding.

Sammy’s watching her with no small amount of concern. “I don’t suppose the batteries just died?” she asks hopefully.

Claire shakes her head. “Something’s wrong.” She tries to push the worst-case scenarios from her mind and focus on what they can do. “Franklin, can you try another frequency? See if we can reach anyone else who-”

“Not to alarm anyone,” Yaz says suddenly from her spot near the exit tunnel, “but the troopers are all getting into their trucks.”

Claire’s mind comes screeching to a halt. “They’re what?”

Franklin stands up from his chair, looking panicked. “What are they doing?”

“Well, my dear nerd,” Kenji drawls, waving an arm for dramatic effect, “this is the part where they betray us and leave us to die.”

“What?” Claire’s heart jolts, and she starts running towards the exit. “Hey! Wait-”

Yaz grabs Claire by the arm before she can pass. “Hey,” she hisses, “do you want to get shot? Because that’s how you get shot.” Point made, she lets go and folds her arms. “Just stay put for a minute. We’re lucky they decided to ditch us instead of trying to kill us.”

Claire rubs her arm- Yaz has a strong grip. “You… don’t seem very surprised,” she notes, her shock starting to give way to dread.

“Believe it or not,” Kenji chimes in, almost sounding amused, “this isn’t the first time we’ve been betrayed by adults we trusted to rescue us. We’ve been expecting this.”

Claire feels like she’s been punched. “You have?”

“Wait,” Franklin says, brows furrowing. “You mean other people have come to the island before?”

Kenji actually laughs. “Uh, yeah! No way people could resist the last living dinosaurs on earth.” He starts counting on his fingers. “First it was the trophy hunters, then it was Dr. Wu and his merry band of mercenaries.”

For a moment, Claire is certain she heard him wrong. “Wu came back to the island?” she asks, stunned. “He disappeared after Jurassic World fell. When was he here?”

Kenji shrugs. “Like, six months after the park closed? Dude trashed the boat we found and left us for dead.”

“Yeah,” Sammy agrees matter-of-factly, “just ‘cause we wouldn’t let him recover the research he needed to make more monsters like the Indominus and Scorpius Rex.”

“Wait, wait- Scorpius Rex?” Franklin repeats, his eyes wide. “What’s a Scorpius Rex?”

“It was Wu’s first attempt at a hybrid,” Yaz explains. “Turned out to be too unstable, so he was ordered to destroy it, but he decided to put it into cryo-freeze instead. Containment failed after the park shut down.”

Claire rubs her temples, struggling to take in all this new information. After the Indominus brought about Jurassic World’s downfall, Wu was faced with heavy scrutiny for his genetic experimentation. But technically speaking, he hadn’t broken any laws. The general consensus about the Indominus was that it had been a fluke- an unanticipated result of reckless scientific pioneering.

However, the fact that Wu had already made a hybrid in secret, seen first-hand how dangerous it was, but decided to keep it alive anyways and proceed with his next attempt… that displayed an almost willful ignorance for safety and due diligence. No wonder he disappeared.

And abandoning six teenagers on an island full of dinosaurs… knowing that they were still here, still alive, and telling no one… that was just evil.

“Is it still loose?” Claire asks, fearful of adding another problem to their list.

Yaz shakes her head. “That freak of nature threatened all life on the island, almost killed Sammy, and ended up making a second Scorpius through some weird frog cloning thing. We had to take them out.” A smile pulls at her lips. “Blue gave us a hand with that.”

“Why didn’t you bring this up before?” Franklin asks, his voice strained.

Sammy makes a noncommittal noise. “Well, we weren’t sure if y’all were workin’ with Wu or not. Can’t be too careful.”

Claire stares at the teens. It’s like she’s seeing them for the first time. “I can’t believe… you’ve known they were going to betray us this entire time? And you just… played along?”

Sammy gives her an apologetic smile. “Yeah, sorry we didn’t say anythin’, but we didn’t want ‘em to catch on.”

Claire exhales slowly, running her hands through her hair. These kids instinctively knew that there was foul play afoot, and managed to pick out who they could trust while not letting on that they suspected anything. They’ve been planning for worst-case scenarios and figuring out their next move completely on the fly, with little to no need for outright communication between their group. All with the threat of an imminent volcanic eruption hanging over their heads.

To say Claire underestimated them is an understatement.

“So now what?” Franklin asks frantically. “We’re stuck on the island right as a volcano is about to erupt?”

Kenji puts a hand on Franklin’s shoulder. “Chillax, dude. Darius has a plan,” he assures him. “We’re gonna meet up with the others and sneak onto the boat together.”

This doesn’t comfort Franklin. “That’s a really vague plan!” he protests.

“We can handle it,” Yaz snaps. She glances out through the tunnel. “Look, the troopers are gone, so we can start heading out. We’ll meet up with the others and go from there-”

The computer monitor suddenly starts beeping, and a warning flashes up onto the screen, reading, ‘Proximity alert.’ Franklin jumps at the noise, whirling around to scan the screen in confusion.

Then a roar sounds from outside.

Suddenly, Yaz is pulling Claire by the hand. “Get back, away from the door,” she says lowly, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

Sammy and Kenji have already moved to meet them, expressions deathly serious and every muscle in their bodies tense. That alone abruptly makes them look much older. Claire glances back at the screen, and her blood runs cold; a new red dot has appeared on the digital map, and it’s slowly moving closer to their location.

“It’s the T-Rex,” Franklin whispers, his face paling. “It’s the T-Rex, it’s the T-Rex, Claire, it’s the T-Rex, it’s the-”

“It’s not the T-Rex!” Yaz hisses.

“It’s Chaos,” Kenji says, his voice suddenly devoid of emotion as he stares at the exit tunnel.

Claire’s stomach drops. “What?”

“The Baryonyx that clawed my face off,” Kenji explains, almost dangerously calm. “Chaos. I’d know her sound anywhere.”

“Oh my god,” Franklin breathes. “Oh my god-”

Another roar rings out, much closer than before.

Sammy sucks in a breath through her teeth. “Claire, Franklin, you might wanna get between us.”

All three teens have drawn their weapons. They’ve fanned out in a line with their backs to the wall, Sammy and Yaz on either side of Kenji. When Claire and Franklin squeeze in between them, it leaves both sides protected by an armed teen.

“Okay,” Claire whispers, “what now?”

“Hold formation,” Yaz says tersely, her eyes on the tunnel. “If we stand our ground, she’ll decide we aren’t worth it. With the volcano erupting, she’s got other things to worry about.”

“How can you be sure?!” Franklin asks, sounding near hysterics as his voice hits a pitch Claire didn’t think was possible at his age.

“Deep breaths, Franklin,” Claire murmurs, her heart pounding in her ears.

The gravity of the situation is starting to sink in. They’ve been abandoned by the people charged with keeping them safe and getting them off the island. They have no way of knowing if the others are alright. They’re trapped in a room with only one exit, that’s about to be blocked by a large carnivorous dinosaur. And the volcano is sounding angrier by the minute, reminding them that they have very limited time to escape.

Claire really hopes these teenagers know what they’re doing, because the tunnel suddenly echoes with the sound of approaching footsteps.

~*~

Blue shrieks, whirling around to face her unseen assailant.

Her tail whacks Owen right in the gut, throwing him head-over-heels into the dirt with a shout. The campers scatter, darting out of range from the furious dinosaur. They can’t go far, though, because the entire clearing is now surrounded by troopers, led by Wheatley.

Darius’s mind is racing. He didn’t think they’d go for the double-cross now. Why wouldn’t they wait until Blue was fully secured? What are they doing?

Owen’s scrambled back onto his feet, hands held out as he desperately tries to calm Blue. “I told you to wait for my signal!” he hisses at Wheatley.

Blue thrashes her head from side-to-side, trying to dislodge the dart. She’s also become aware of their new audience, snarling and bristling in a way that just screams danger. This doesn’t appear to dissuade the troopers, however, because they start to move in, guns at the ready.

Oh, this is bad.

“Back your men up right now,” Owen says urgently.

Darius glances over at Brooklynn and Ben. They’ve managed to stick beside each other, standing back-to-back as they try to face both the approaching troopers and the pissed-off raptor. Their eyes are wide and panicked, and he can read the question in their expressions loud and clear.

‘What do we do?’

‘Wait,’ Darius signs, his gaze darting around the clearing. If they make a break for it now, while Blue is so agitated, she could be goaded into attacking. And sure, maybe they wouldn’t be the ones getting attacked, but it’s too risky.

The troopers press in, and one of them seems to cross the invisible line that is Blue’s tolerance. Screeching, the raptor runs past Owen and leaps at the trooper, slamming him onto the ground. His screams fill the air as Blue tears into him- one foot on his chest, the other his neck, claws digging into flesh, jaws snapping against his helmet- and raises his gun.

Wheatley finally reacts. “No, no, no, don’t shoot her!”

Desperately, Darius scoops a rock off the ground and hurls it at Blue, screaming, “Hey!”

The rock connects on the side of Blue’s neck. That gets her attention; she pulls away from the trooper, head whipping around to look at Darius. In the split-second that their eyes meet, Darius can almost swear Blue looks betrayed.

And then a shot rings off.

Blue screams as the bullet tears through her side, sending up a spray of red. The raptor staggers back a few steps and collapses with a heavy thud. Panting heavily, she writhes in the dirt, quickly becoming stained with blood.

Darius stares, his breath caught in his throat. Two bodies bleeding out on the jungle floor- how did things go so wrong?

Owen’s eyes darken with rage. “Wheatley, you son of a bitch!” he roars, charging at Wheatley.

Wheatley raises his gun and fires a dart into Owen’s chest.

Owen stops short, shock flashing across his face as he looks down at the dart. He sways in place for a moment, and then crumbles to the ground.

Darius freezes, his mind struggling to stay calm. Things are rapidly getting worse, but at least they didn’t kill him. It does mean, however, that Owen certainly isn’t getting out of here on his own. They’ll have to figure something out.

“Owen!” Zia pushes past the troopers and runs to Owen’s side. “What are you doing?!”

She falls to the ground next to Owen and snatches the dart out of his chest, checking his breathing. For a brief second, Darius can see the panic and confusion flash across her face, before realization settles in, and it gives way to a calculating expression. And then she grabs the gun from Owen's holster, standing up to aim at Wheatley.

Every gun in the clearing points at Zia. Wheatley rolls his eyes, exasperated, and lifts his own gun.

Zia doesn’t flinch. “You shoot me,” she tells him lowly, “and that animal dies.”

Wheatley smirks. “I think we have the drop on you, sweetheart.”

“She’s losing blood,” Zia says firmly, her jaw clenched. “And if I don’t treat her, she’ll never make it back to camp.”

Darius immediately recognizes the move for what it is; insurance. She’s making herself invaluable to Wheatley so he doesn’t kill her. That’s smart.

Wheatley sighs, lowering his gun. “How about this? That animal dies, I shoot you. You’re gonna take care of her.”

Zia lowers the gun as well, her expression stormy. Without another word, she turns on her heel and rushes over to Blue, slinging her backpack off her shoulder and starting to rummage through it as the troopers move in.

A plan is starting to take root in Darius’s mind. Having someone on the inside will make it easier for the others to sneak aboard- but they can’t rely on Zia for that. She has to look after Blue, and she isn’t keyed into their plans, anyway. She doesn’t know how they operate. It has to be one of them.

But they can’t all go with Wheatley. With dinosaurs around and an erupting volcano, Owen is a sitting duck out here. Someone has to stay behind and help him get to the others. It’ll take more than one person to move him in this sedated state- and if two are staying behind, it has to be Ben and Brooklynn. They need each other to be safe.

Which means Darius has to leave them.

‘Plan?’ Ben signs, tilting his head to turn it into a question.

Darius’s heart has turned to lead. He doesn’t want to leave them. What kind of leader just abandons his herd-

‘Plan?’ Ben signs again, more insistent. He can tell right away that Darius has a plan and just doesn’t like it, which probably means it isn’t self-sacrificing enough for his taste.

‘You stay. Help,’ Darius answers reluctantly, subtly jerking his head over at an unconscious Owen. ‘Meet later.’

‘You?’ Brooklynn asks, her jaw tightening as if already dreading the answer.

Darius grimaces. ‘Go, bad. Sneak help.’

It’s a crude translation of his meaning- for some peculiar reason, they never thought it prudent to make signs for things like ‘spy’, ‘betrayal’, or ‘double agent.’ But Brooklynn and Ben understand anyway, exchanging a somber look.

‘Careful,’ Brooklynn tells him. They’re all capable on their own, but Darius will be walking right into the enemy’s den with no one to back him up. It’s not the most dangerous situation he’s ever put himself in, but it’s still enough to make Brooklynn anxious.

The troopers are almost done securing Blue, fastening a muzzle over her jaws and leather straps around her limbs as Zia packs the bullet wound with gauze. It won’t be long before they remember the campers are there.

‘Split up,’ Darius signs, while keeping his other hand as, ‘Wait.’ He gives Brooklynn and Ben a few precious seconds to plan their escape route; if they get grabbed, the only way out will be by fighting, and that could get messy very quickly.

“Hey,” someone calls, “what’s with all the hand puppets?”

Darius changes the sign to, ‘Go.’

Brooklynn and Ben take off in opposite directions, vanishing into the jungle before anyone can react.

A couple of the troopers startle, moving as if to follow, but Wheatley waves them off. “Let ‘em go. We’ve gotta get this raptor loaded up.” Then he looks at Darius, as if just realizing he’s still there. “What about you, jungle boy? Not gonna run off?”

Darius swallows, shaking his head. “I c- can… I can uh, I- I can help h- her,” he offers, holding his hands up as a show of good faith.

Wheatley raises an eyebrow. “You still want a ride home, I’m guessing?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips.

Darius gives a hesitant nod, letting his expression settle somewhere between sheepish and hopeful. No threat here, just a poor dumb kid who really wants to get off this island.

Wheatley looks him up and down. “Fine. Help her, and stay out of our way.” He turns to shoot Zia a crooked grin. “You two keep your heads down, and you might just survive this.”

Zia scowls and turns back to her patient.

Darius gives an emphatic nod. “Y- yes, s- s- sir.”

He doesn’t believe for a second that Wheatley intends to spare them. They’re witnesses, and as soon as they cease to be useful, he’ll dispose of them. But Darius has bought himself some time; time he can use to plan his next move, and figure out how he’s going to get his herd onto the boat.

The troopers are lashing a bunch of thick cords around Blue, preparing to drag her back to the truck. Zia snaps at their every movement, reprimanding their carelessness, so for the time being, their attention is fully occupied.

As casual as he can, Darius wanders over to the fallen trooper, kneeling beside him. He’s clearly dead; Blue’s talon cut a deep, thick gash across his throat, compromising his airway and spilling dangerous amounts of blood- even now, it’s still trickling out to stain the soil. It was probably the lack of oxygen to the brain that killed him. Painful, but quick.

His face is hidden behind the visor of his helmet. That makes this… easier, even if only a little.

Darius knows that Brooklynn and Ben are still watching him from the jungle. He doesn’t dare look for them, lest he give away their hiding spots. But he does make sure to move slowly, so they don’t miss anything. He places a deliberate hand on the dead trooper’s helmet, waiting a few seconds before moving his hand onto the combat vest. Then, he curls the fingers of his free hand into the sign for ‘Take.’

They’ll make a good disguise for Owen, and that alone might help them sneak onboard.

“Nothin’ we can do for him now,” Wheatley calls over, mistaking Darius’s stillness for shocked grief. “He knew the risks of the mission.”

Darius nods and straightens up, glancing over at Owen’s prone figure. He’s still breathing, but completely motionless. Hopefully the full dose of tranquilizer didn’t get into his system, and it’ll wear off soon. Brooklynn and Ben are strong, but if they have to drag him all the way to the security building, they might miss the boat entirely.

Part of him wishes he could go and check on Owen, but it’d look suspicious. Plus, he doesn’t want to redirect attention onto Owen, lest Wheatley decide to finish him off. So Darius turns, jogging over towards Zia- she’s watching the troopers start to drag Blue away- and lifts his hand in greeting.

Zia regards him tersely, saying nothing as she stalks off after the troopers. Darius supposes that makes sense; she probably doesn't know how to feel about him, uncertain as to where his loyalties lie, whether he can be trusted or if he'll do anything to ensure Wheatley takes him home. From an outsider perspective, he’s ditched his friends and his morals for his own safety. Like a rat abandoning a sinking ship. That’s alright- it doesn’t matter what she thinks of him. When they’re alone, he’ll explain the situation to her.

But in the meantime, he’s got to figure out how to help his herd escape a volcanic eruption without tipping off the murderous mercenaries, while somehow making sure a raptor that suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen doesn’t die on his watch, despite knowing very little about first aid and working with a pissed off paleo-vet who thinks he’s a traitor.

… Whatever it takes, right?

~*~