#no i just have fucking taste and want something better

[cherryredstars]

you know what season it is!!! back shots in a sundress with no panties!! i strongly request rich people private beach sex! boat sex! rich sugar daddy husband who is never really home but when he is he WRECKS your body!!

Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara, Simon Riley, John Price x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Public Sex, SugarDaddy!Characters, Simon isn't gentle in this one (sorry!)

A/N: My favorite season!!!!

Unedited

| SIMON "GHOST" RILEY: CAKE BY THE OCEAN

He can't help himself when his pretty baby is all dolled up for him.

You got that cute little sundress he bought you on, letting out little giggles every time the wind picks up and you have to hold your dress down like the better version of Marilyn Monroe. He doesn't understand why you do it though. You're the one who begged him to take leave so the two of you can spend the warm weather at the beach house, wanting to spend time on the private beach. Plus, if you really cared about decency, you wouldn't have left without panties. He thinks you're adorable, clueless to the fact that you've flashed him a handful of times already.

But maybe that's part of some secret plan you've been plotting. especially when you pout at him and demand he let you rub sunscreen all over his body.

I just don't want your scars to get irritated, Si.

He thinks your a fucking liar. How else would that explain the way you so willingly sprawl out on the beach blanket you've brought along, your bare ass exposed to him as your dress is bunched around your waist. In the sun, he can see your dripping cunt glistening with arousal. He fucking loves the pretty gasps you let out when the wind fans over your folds, a tiny plea for him to stop his teasing following after. His poor, spoiled baby, so desperate to have a different kind of fun at the beach.

He doesn't care for the beating sun burning his back as his thick cock slides through your puffy folds, more focused on the way your insides are a thousand times hotter. The only thing he needs coating his skin is your sticky arousal as it drips around his cock, a foamy ring of white forming at his base as he thrusts into you. He hates sand, but he doesn't mind the way it gets on the blanket as you pull on it, crying and hiccuping at him how it's too much.

"Si! It's too hot, I'm getting all gross and sweaty!" You sob out, teary eyes looking back at him.

He coos at your cries, giving your ass a hard smack before rubbing the pain away. You could have just told him you needed something to help you cool down. He's more than happy to help as he licks over your skin, his saliva coating your neck and shoulder blades. You taste like the sun and sweat, and he knows that after his he'll need to eat out that pretty pussy of yours to see how they add to your addictive taste.

He must have spoiled you too much, rolling his eyes as you start complaining about how sticky your skin feels with his spit drying on you. He shuts you up with a few punishing thrusts, only tolerating your incoherently wobbly moans and cries. He grits his teeth when he feels his high peaking, swiftly pulling out of you with a groan as he hot seed shoots onto your back. It darkens the fabric of your dress, pearly lines sitting on your sparkling skin.

Simon chuckles as you whine under him, his rough hands rubbing his cum over your skin in a thin layer.

"Gotta make sure your pretty skin is nice and coated, love."

His cum looks close enough to sunscreen, anyways.

| MIGUEL O'HARA: HANDS ON THE WHEEL

"Keep 'er steady, baby."

You only moan back in reply, your hands tightening around the wheel. Your hands are sweating from the sun's heat and from the heat radiating off of Miguel's body as he thrusts into you. The sound of your wet cunt is drowned out by the sound of the ocean, but Miguel is more concerned about the ocean of wetness that gushes around his cock. Your grip on the wheel has nothing on the vice grip your pulsating walls have on his cock.

His large hands reach up, his chest pressing against your sweaty back as his hands cover yours. He guides your hands slightly to keep the wheel straight, his thrusts not stopping. He's trying to teach you how to steer the boat through groans, and you only moan and whine in response as your mind gets consumed by the way his cock drills into you. Miguel curses when your grip on the wheel slips, your body falling forward as your orgasm crashes into you and the wheel spins quickly out of control.

His hand instinctively clasps around your neck to keep you from hitting your head on the wheel, making your back arch as he pulls you close to him as his other hand works to fix the wheel. His cock slips out of you, the ends of your fluttery dress pushing over his angry tip. He grunts as he thrusts his cock into your back, groaning as he spurts hot strings of pearly white dampen the back of your dress. You babble as you come down, feeling the wet parts of your dress starting to cling to your skin.

"Didn't I tell you that ya'gotta be careful while at the wheel, mi vida?"

Well, whose fault is that.

| JOHN PRICE: PRETTY HOUSEWIFE

This by far is his favorite part of coming home.

He loves getting home after a rough deployment, only to find his pretty little wife waiting dutifully at home for him. You treat it like a special occasion, making his favorite meals in that cute little apron and sundress that has his cock throbbing. You're so good to him. It's only right that he shows his appreciation with a good fucking.

He doesn't care if his hot plate of food is getting cold as he bullies his cock into your needy hole. You're so tight from not being filled with his cock for so long, your fingers not stretching you out the way his fat cock can. Your little moans and cries of his name are the only nourishment he needs at the moment. His pretty little wife takes him so well.

"Looks so gorgeous f'me like this, doll." John grunts at you, chuckling at the way your walls flutter around him.

This is by far the greatest way to be welcomed home, and of course he's gotta give you the first of many gifts he's got you while he was away. He groans low and deep as he shoots the build-up of cum that's been sitting painfully in his balls, watching as it gushes around his cock as your pussy gets stuffed full. You look so pretty sitting across from him in that sundress, trying to keep as much cum as possible in your snug cunt as he finally digs into his home-cooked meal.

No way in hell he'd let his seed go to waste.

[cyber333angel]

a few people wanted the drabble of sitting on jjs face so here it is!

your boyfriend had been away on a pogue adventure all day leaving you alone in your shared apartment. needy for him but not having him here to help you release, you tried everything from your small hands (which couldn’t do the job, not like jj’s calloused and rough hands which gets you in all the right spots) to the little pink bullet vibrator jj keeps in a drawer when he plays with you(only climaxing when he has his dick buried deep inside of you holding the vibrator to your clit). none of it was doing what you really needed it to do like your jj so you text him. moving your panties to the side and taking a selfie of your painfully wet cunt you text him, “want you home jayj..” with an attachment.

jj’s phone pings in his back pocket, taking it out he sees a message from you“hooooly fuck..woah..uh guys there’s like a family emergency back home like—a car crash a terrible terrible crash so imma dip and we can “reconcile” this like tomorrow, yeah?” the pogues look at him with a disgusted face, and john b speaks up, “ew dude, we know it’s your girlfriend. you better come back tomorrow we have a lea—oh whatever.” he stops talking, seeing jj put on his helmet and get on his bike, starting the gear. about 10 minutes later jj bust through the door to see you in silk but slightly sheer pink, nightgown.

he basically pounces on you right then and there there. grabbing your head and kissing you deeply, exchanging saliva from the both of your tongues. jj pulls back “babycakes you can’t send me something like that and..wear something like this. it’s bad for my heart im telling ya.” you giggle at his deprivation, taking your hands and lifting your skirt up you show him your exposed cunt. “s’achey down there jayj.. need you to make me cum!” wet slick dripping down your thigh, jj almost throttles “oh jesus..you drive me fucking crazy.” he grabs you from the waist, hoisting you up on his shoulder and runs into your shared bedroom. making out with you he lays his head down on the pillow, grabbing you to straddle his chest. “get on top sweet girl, if y’re so needy you can ride my face.” you whimper at the suggestion and shake your head frantically. “jayj I cant do that! what if I suffocate you!” he rolls his eyes “baby the best way to die would honestly be in between-“ you cover his mouth with your hands preventing him from finishing the embarrassing sentence. “okay okay! ill do it.”

“atta girl.” you get closer to jj’s face, thighs hovering over him as you grip the headboard. “papa your face is gonna get messy!” he gets impatient with your excuses “that’s just fine sweet cheeks, but this not what mean-“ he grabs your thighs and pulls you down to mouth, mumbling “dis is what I meant.” you shiver at the contact, jj thrusts his tongue up into your cunt, slurping at your juices. “y’always taste so fuckin delicious baby..fuck.” he moves to your sensitive bud sucking knit gently and rolling it in his mouth “angh, jj your makin me feel s-so good, oh god!” he hooks his arm from under your thigh and starts rubbing your clit, sticking his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “go on princess, try to grind that sweet pussy on my tongue.” you grip the headboard, helping your balance to move your lower body forward and backwards in a slow pace. “mmmh it feels so good papa! oh your gonna make me cum!” you hear the squelches of your needy cunt and you clench around jj’s tongue. grinding yourself across his face to climax, your clit stroking on him. “f-fuck papa..s’good..” you mind going blank from the intense climax, you twitch and hover off jj’s face falling on his chest. jj sits up grabbing you by the shoulders to hug you, seeing the wet spot seethe through his pants. “well fuck babydoll..all your fussing made me cum too..shit.”

[elllisaaa]

i’m not the biggest fan of pools and such but jake is soo the type to splash water on you in order to make you get in so he can see you all wet and eventually make out with you 🙄

imagine BROTHER'S BFF!JAKE who is spending every summer at your house since your teenagers years because your parents have a pool. however, since you were older than your brother heeseung, you left for college before them. jake missed you, because he had a crush on you, but also because you were someone he truly trusted and appreciated. now, the only time when he got to see you was when you would come back for holydays. and he took advantage of that and of the fact that you were single to flirt with you every chance he got. and it didn't matter if you rejected him every time because he could see the faint smile on your face.

so when jake learned that your parents will leave this summer but that you would be here, he was over the moon because it was finally his chance to seduce you. and truth be told, you had already been charmed a long time ago. but jake was younger, even if it was just one year, and mostly, he was your brother's best friend. it should be wrong, but the way he was eyeing you ever since you laid down on your deckchair, letting the sun hit your uncovered skin. and jake was glad he was in the pool and you couldn't see how hard he was in his swimsuit only because you were wearing the skimpiest bikini known to mankind.

heeseung left earlier because he was working tonight, leaving you and jake alone. and he knew it was his chance to do something about his aching dick and the fat crush he had on you since middle school. "hey, y/n." you hummed as you sat up, but before you could even take off your sunglasses to take a proper look at him, he splashed water at you. you gasped at the fresh liquid hitting your warm skin. but a second after, you were throwing your glasses to the side and jumping in the pool to get back at him. you tried your best to splash water at each other, trying to push his head underwater but you forgot that he's been overpowering you for quite some time because he had started working out - and he looked a little too good too. so you weren't even surprised when he succeeded in pining you against the pool wall, his breathe hitting your lips from how close he was too you, his eyes dipping into your clevage.

"got you, pretty girl." - "it's not fair, you're too strong now." - "i'm not a kid anymore." you knew that, better than he could ever imagine since he was the only thing you could think about when you were touching yourself, imagining it was his fingers reaching deeper into you, imagining it was him eating you out with this tongue of his that he was only sticking out when you were making fun of him. jake noticed how your gaze darkned, how your eyes zeroed on his lips. "yeah, i know. you're much more than that."

you didn't know if you kissed him first, or if he did, but it didn't matter when he was devoring your mouth like that, holding you by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. the friction between his obvious hard on and the thin material of your bikini bottom felt so good you both moaned into each other mouth, your nails digging into his muscular shoulders as he started to grin against you.

"fuck, you feel so good pretty, i knew you would, been wanting this, wanting you for years." - "shit ! me too jakey, i need you so bad." jake groaned in his deep voice that always made you wet as he slid his hands under the soaked material of your top, gropping your breast harshly. he relished in the way you were already whining out his name, holding onto him. and he needed to hear more of them, to taste more of you.

"sit on the edge baby, i want a taste of your pretty little pussy." you didn't questionned his request, nor did you think about the nieghbords when you did what he wanted, and let jake push the piece of clothing covering your cunt aside, and dive into your wetness. and nothing else mattered, nothing else beside the way jake was gripping your plush thights, nothing else beside the way jake was lapping at your cunt and sucking on your clit, whimpering against your fold because he was already addicted to you. and it was needless to mention that both of you were glad that your brother worked tonight.

[not-neverland06]

How About A Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I see a lot of comments talking about how you guys wished they would just communicate. They are communicating its just that neither of them know what they want. Summary: All you want is to just be clean. He offers to show you a nice little spot where you can finally scrape the grime off of you. What could go wrong?

“So,” you shifted your bag further up your arm. You were favoring the left today on account of the giant gap he had left in your right bicep. You were still pretty pissed off about that. “Do you ever, you know, bathe?”

He looked over his shoulder at you, he seemed caught off guard by the question. “Bathe?” He repeated, face raised in surprise.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, bathe. I’ve been out here over a week. I’ve got about twenty layers of blood and sand stuck in every crevice.” Your skin crawled thinking about the different types of bodily fluid you’d been sprayed with since coming out of the cryo pod. 

There was a lot of blood, of course, but Hollywood doesn’t show everything that gets excreted in death. You were itching for a good shower. You know that’s out of the question, but there’s got to be something. 

He laughed and ripped off a piece of jerky. He offered you some, grinning when you shook your head. “Buckle up, sweetheart, you’re in for a rude awakening. You can always use the water, but that’s a waste of Radaway if you ask me.” You should have known. It’s not like anyone you’d encountered seemed particularly gung ho about personal hygiene, but you had hoped there would be something. 

You reached down, digging your nails into your arm and scratching off flakes of blood and who knows what else. You shouldn’t have bothered, though, it only made the rest of you feel a hundred times worse. You looked crazy, scratching at yourself like a dog but you couldn’t help it. 

“Alright, damn, I’ll give you some of my Radaway, you look half rabid.”

You stopped with your scratching and stared at him in shock. “You’ll give me some of your Radaway?”

He rolled his eyes, stopping only when he noticed you’d quit walking. “Is that not what I said?”

You crossed your arms and glared at him, “You’re not exactly known for your generosity. What’s the catch?”

He frowned and clutched at his chest like you’d actually done damage, “Now, that hurts darling. I’m just trying to help you out.” He turned around, walking to the right now, further towards greenery and away from the desert. “Plus, it’ll get rid of that fucking smell.”

You kept your mouth shut but he was one to talk. He hadn’t exactly tasted wonderful when he’d kissed you. Nor did he smell amazing. Still, he had made your heart race and it wasn’t from pure terror for once. Though, any positive feelings he’d caused within you had been negated the second he dropped you to the dirt like a used up toy. 

You knew better than to try and bring it up to him, but it had stung. Attacked that vulnerable part of you that made you want to put up walls so high even the sun couldn’t get through. 

With no other choice you sped up and caught up to him. Your hip was still bothering you, but it wasn’t dragging behind you as much as it was a few days ago. The only thing really bugging you now was your throbbing arm. He’d assured you that it couldn’t rot, he’d dealt with that, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch. 

“Through here is a lake you can use.” He pointed towards the area where the trees started to thin out. 

You looked at him skeptically, “You’re really letting me do this?”

He scoffed and glared at you, “The fuck did I tell you?” You don’t know if he’s talking about his new rule to stop questioning him or about giving you the Radaway, but you keep your mouth shut anyway. He hasn’t been as much of a dick today and you’d rather keep it that way. 

“Here,” he motions through the trees and you stumble into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s been submerged in water, you can spot some old apartment buildings peeking up through the top. 

Briefly, you wonder if you’ve ever passed your old home and just never realized it. You dismiss the thought as quickly as it comes, not willing to let your mind linger on thoughts like that today. 

You slowly make your way to the water, still not entirely trusting of his intentions. He’s made it clear he’s keeping you around for the long haul, but that doesn’t mean he’s stopped tormenting you. “You’re really gonna let me use your Radaway?” You call over your shoulder. 

He sighs and leans against the trunk of a tree. “Get your ass in the water, I won’t wait around all day. 

You’re not dumb enough to fully submerge yourself in radiated water. You just rip a piece of your shirt off and dunk it into the startlingly blue lake. You use it to scrub yourself down, rubbing your arms until they’re raw and feel clean enough. 

You shuffle closer to the water, trying to bend over enough to scrub your face a bit. But when you gaze down into the water you find something gazing back up at you. You scream, scrambling back just as that thing leaps out of the water and towards you. 

Something pink and wet slams into your chest and knocks the air out of your lungs. You grope blindly in the mud for your gun as it opens its mouth. Horror and disgust fill you when you see what’s in its mouth, human fingers dangle like disgusting uvulas. It darts forward, jaw posed to clamp around your whole face. 

A loud bang echoes through the lake. The thing goes flying back and causes ripples to drift across the surface of the water. You clutch your chest, trying to get your breath back and scoot closer to get a better look at whatever attacked you. It’s the size of your torso and looks startling like some deformed axolotl. He’s left a large bullet hole in the middle of it’s head deformed head.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, shakily getting to your feet and groaning when you realize whatever you’d manage to clean off had been replaced by a thick layer of mud. 

You turn around, hoping for some sort of explanation from him, but he’s just bent over laughing, gun still smoking. You grab your bag out of the muck with a huff and glare at him. “Really?”

He straightens up, still grinning and shakes his head. “You should have seen your face, you were petrified.”

”Well, I’m glad someone enjoyed that.” You glare down at the corpse, eyes wide with horror, “It’s got fucking fingers in it’s throat. Human fingers!” He saunters over to you, entirely too pleased with himself. He grabs his inhaler out of his bag and loads it with Radaway. He tosses it over to you and you catch it with your good arm. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” You press down and take in a deep breath, ignoring how bitter the juice tastes. 

“Never trust anything, rule number one of the Wastelands darling. Can’t even trust the water.” There was a loud roar off towards the middle of the lake and he nodded his head back towards the tree line. “Come on, that one was just a baby Gulper. Momma’s gonna be by soon and I can’t imagine she’ll be real happy.” He walks off without you and you’re stuck staring at the dead mutant. 

“That was a fucking baby?” He laughs at you again and when you catch up with him, you can't help but laugh a little yourself. You probably looked ridiculous, wrestling in the mud with what, apparently, was only an infant. 

He grins at you, “You got a lot to learn.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

He’s kneeled down beside you, fingers prodding at the reddened area around your wound. It feels a bit better now, more like touching a fresh bruise rather than raw nerves. He poured some water from his canteen over the area and retied the bandage. He stood up and moved away from you while you dug around in your bag for another ration bar. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You’ve got the bar positioned between your knees, and you’re trying, hopelessly, to open it up with one hand. Your fingers, now dusted with dried mud, slip uselessly against the packaging. 

He looks up at you and lets out a loud sigh. “Give it here.”

”I’ve got it-”

“Give. It. Here.” You huff but toss the bar over to him. He rips it open in one smooth move and throws it back to you. You catch it with your good hand and take a large chunk out of it. It feels like rubber and tastes oddly like dried out meatloaf. You’re not exactly sure what flavor it’s supposed to be replicating, but you figure it’s so old it doesn’t really matter as long as it fills you up. 

He pours some water from his canteen onto a ripped piece of cloth and tosses it at you. You’re unprepared, bar in hand and midchew, it slaps against your face and you scowl under the fabric. “Really?” You mutter, mouth half full. You yank it off your face and give him a questioning look. 

“Just clean yourself up.” 

You drag it across your face and arms, trying to get off as much residual mud as you can. Your clothes are a stained, lost cause, but this will do for now. Not like you’re going to get much better without going up against some mutant monster. 

“You’re being nice today?” It comes out like a question more than anything. Probably because you’re having trouble trusting him, especially after the Gulper incident. You wished you could say you can’t believe he would do something like that, but you’re pretty sure he’d been hoping the mom would get you, not the baby. 

He shrugged and leaned back against a fallen log. “Feelin’ chivalrous.”

You hummed but didn’t push. You forced down another lump of your ration and reached for your water. “Where are we heading anyway? Been walking for a long time but we haven’t seem to have gotten anywhere.”

“There’s a compound I took a bounty for. We’re on our way to deliver it.”

You tilted your head as far back as you could, tongue out and hoping to catch the remaining drops of your water. “Shit,” you tossed the canteen back in your bag, already knowing it was hopeless. 

“Ah, hell,” you glanced up and saw Cooper rifling through his supply box. 

“How are you on Radaway?”

He sighed and chucked the box back into his bag. “Got two vials left.” He ran his tongue along his teeth, a pensive expression on his face. 

You sighed and rubbed idly at some mud left on your fingers. “You’re gonna need more soon.”

He cut you off with a sharp laugh. “Faster than soon, this is the diluted shit.” He rubbed at his chest and you wondered if he was already starting to feel the effects of being so low on the medicine. You can’t believe he gave you a vial of his own with so few left. 

Bastard must’ve really wanted to see you get jumped by a gulper. Your face twisted up in distaste and any twinge of sympathy you’d felt for him dissapeared. You wished he would cough so hard he’d choke on his tongue, at least then you wouldn’t have to listen to his bullshit anymore. 

He looked over at you and then your bag. “Got any of that purified water left?” You shook your head, crumpling the wrapper of your bar up and tossing it somewhere behind you, 

“Just ran out, not sure where I’m gonna find more.”

He chuckled and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I do,” you stood up and grabbed your own bag, following behind him. 

Loud laughter and rowdy conversation drifts into the night air. You sit perched behind a large boulder, staring into the building across from you. It’s an old supermarket, refurbished to fit the Wastelanders' needs. “They’ll have what we need?”

He doesn’t look at you, his sight is dead set on the men milling about in front of you. They’re clearly guards, switching positions every couple of minutes and loaded to the teeth with weapons. Cooper silently tracks them, eyes darting between them as they switch positions yet again. 

“Yep,” he lifts up into a squat and watches as one of the men turns his back to lace up his boot. “Now!” He grabs you by the sleeve of your jacket and drags you along as he weaves between the guards. He throws you in front of him, practically tossing you inside the store. 

You hold back your gasp of shock and duck behind a waist-high shelf. There are only seven or eight men walking around inside. They’ve got a fire burning in the middle of the store, the empty shelves pushed back against the walls. Behind them is about the largest pile of supplies you’ve seen since being up here. They could give Ma June a run for her money. 

You peek your head over the shelf and try to get a look at just how many weapons they have. You hear the familiar sound of spurs walking behind you and twist immediately to see Cooper walking calmly towards the group with his hands raised in surrender. He catches your eye and winks before he fully addresses them. 

“Gentlemen!” You sigh and sink back against the shelf, an irritated look on your face. The shelf screeched forward slightly and you scrambled off it, you caught Cooper twitch a little in irritation but he didn’t say anything. He’s been fully noticed at this point, the others all glaring at him with their guns raised. 

He had a full view of all eight men from his perspective. What he couldn’t see, which you could, was a ninth man sneaking up behind him with a knife. He had it poised, aiming to strike right through the back of Cooper’s neck. 

Without thinking too much on it, you leapt out of your hiding spot and used your good arm to point your gun in the man’s face. He came to a stop almost cartoonishly, eyes wide and the knife in his hands trembling when you popped out. 

Cooper barely gave you a glance out of the side of his eye and you figured he knew all about the ninth man. He must have been testing you, see if you really had his back. “Hey!”

“Who the fuck is she!”

“What are you doing here?”

You ignored the sounds of their voices, you kept the gun trained on the boy and motioned him towards the left of the room. He followed, letting you guide him backwards until he was scrambling to hide behind his friends. It’s then that you finally got a good look at just how many guns were trained on you. 

One of them pumped their shotgun and you pulled back the hammer of your gun. Cooper’s guns were still tucked away in their holster, it was just you and however much firepower they could cram between ten pairs of hands. 

“Now, I suggest that you gentlemen put those guns down or my friend here is gonna get a little too friendly with her trigger.”

One of them scoffed, gesturing with the barrel of their pistol towards your right arm hanging limply by your side. “She got a bad arm and a shaking hand.”

“Maybe,” you call out, “but I got a working finger. I only need one of ‘em to kill you.”

Before he can respond there’s another one stepping forward. “She can get real friendly with me.” He’s got a lecherous grin on his face and a look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. You sigh, sick of the men up here being so predictable, and turn your gun on him. His eyes widen, like he hadn’t seen you pointing it at his friends, and you pull the trigger. 

Your aim is a little off and the recoil is harder to handle with only one hand available to you, but you’ve got a sawed off shotgun in your hand, don’t have to have a great aim to kill a man with that. His twitching body has barely hit the ground before you’re diving to the right and ducking behind a shelving unit. 

Cooper goes to the left, eyes wide in the same astonishment as those men. Bullets started flying the second their friend was on the ground. They were shouting all sorts of insults and threats at you but it was hard to make out over all the shooting.

“You shot him!” Cooper shouted over the hail fire of bullets.

You rolled your eyes and did your best to reload the gun with your wobbly hand. “He pissed me off,” you shouted back at him. You leveled the gun over the top of the shelves and fired blindly. There was a loud yelp and then another Bitch shouted at you, so you must have hit something. 

“You know, I was trying to handle this civilly,” Cooper jumped to his knees and turned around quickly. He fired off a quick succession of shots, four bodies dropped as he did. The rate of gunfire slowed a bit as more men fell. He ducked down and ran across the room, throwing himself down next to you. He tossed his guns at you and tugged yours out of your hand. “Reload me,” you nodded and tugged some bullets out of his bandolier while he used your gun to shoot at them. 

“I’m sure you handling it civilly would have ended the exact same fucking way.”

He grinned and sat back next to you, “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe. Maybe not, doesn’t matter now.” You handed him his reloaded guns and he dropped yours in your lap. “Only a few left, use the shelves as cover and circle around behind ‘em.” He didn’t stay to make sure you understood his plan, he immediately set off, drawing the fire away from you and making a run for it. 

“Shit,” you hissed, struggling to your feet and following his instructions. With only a few of them left it should have been quick work to get rid of the last few stragglers, but the guards from outside had heard the scuffle and were rushing in. Cooper shot most of them but one got close enough to snatch his gun from his hands and throw it to the floor. 

Cooper struggled against the man, his towering form easily overpowering Cooper. Though, your friend didn’t seem particularly worried, if anything it looked like he was letting the man live to draw out the fight, like he was enjoying it. 

You were going to just leave him to it when you saw the same bastard from before with the knife sneaking up behind him again. You rush forward, scooping up Cooper’s gun as you go and shove the man backwards. 

He grunts at the impact but he refused to be deterred. He charges at you, eyes red with rage and blackened mouth frothing like a rabid dog. You try and keep your guard up but you’ve got a gimp leg and a useless arm, it’s not a fight you’re going to win. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you into him. You grunt, breathing out slowly as you feel his knife slide into your gut. You glance down at the rusted blade and shove your gun under his chin. His eyes widen when you draw the hammer back but you don’t flinch when you pull the trigger, not even when chunks of skull and hair start raining down on you. 

Cooper must have finally noticed the tussle happening behind him because he draws his second gun out from under his coat and ends his little fight with the last of them. You must be in shock, you still haven’t fully experienced the pain that you should. 

There’s a knife sunk past the handle slammed into your gut, you should be feeling something shouldn’t you? You’re sure it’s the adrenaline still pumping through you. Your body is warm from how fast your blood is pumping, your ears ringing from all the gunshots and head spinning from the amount of blood steadily leaking out of the wound. 

“Hey,” you turn around to face him and his eyes widen ever so slightly. You lose your footing and he darts forward, quick arms grab you and draw you into his chest. You clutch onto the sleeve of his jacket, letting all of your weight rest on him while you try and get your panicked breathing under control. 

You’ve had worse injuries than this. As hard as it is to believe, in your time up here, you’ve survived a lot worse than some measly stab wound. 

So why does this feel so fucking bad?

“Oh,” you moan in pain, nearly doubling over. A feeling like a million exposed nerves being set on fire stops you from falling to the floor, instead you push off Cooper and struggle to your feet. 

“Alright, come on,” he grabs your arm again and you have the ridiculous urge to just shove him off you. Your head is swimming,  you feel like you could float away. You look down at the knife again and finally realize just how large it is. One of those hunting ones that was about the width of your hand curled into a fist. 

Well, fuck.

“Hey,” he snaps when you stumble away from him again. “Sit your stubborn ass down, you need help.” He yanks on the straps of your shirt, holding you up and dragging you to a chair, you don’t have much choice as he forces you to sit. Though, the motion causes a wave of excruciating pain to flare through you. 

He kneels in front of you and rips your shirt open, you’re in too much pain to complain about it right now. He hums low in the back of his throat as he takes in the wound. With no warning whatsoever he grabs the knife by the handle and yanks it out like he’s ripping off a fucking bandaid. 

You nearly scream, lurching forward and shoving him away from you. The sudden shock of pain has left you half blind and panting like an animal. “What the fuck was that?” You force out through gritted teeth. He plants a hand on your shoulder and presses you firmly against the back of the chair. 

“Need to get you a Stimpak.” He takes your hand in his and presses it against the wound. Where blood was once oozing, it’s now gushing. You hadn’t realized just how much keeping the knife in had kept the blood at bay. With how rapidly it’s leaving you now you’re afraid. 

You’re afraid that you might not be able to make it back from the edge with just a Stimpak. You can already feel your fingers going cold, pretty soon you won’t be able to flex them and then you’d lose feeling in your arms too. 

“Hey,” he uses the grip he has on your hand to press down on the wound. You groan but he keeps the pressure steady. His eyes bore into your dazed ones, some odd expression in them. “You don’t get to give up. Keep pressure on this, understand me?” Your head flops forward in a lazy nod. 

He could have been gone for a minute or an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Your head is foggy, coherent thoughts replaced by loopy ones. You’re struggling to remember where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing. 

Just as your hand slips from the wound, he comes back. He grabs your hand and places it back, holding it there with his own. You appreciate the way he warms your fingers back up, but the rest of you is freezing too. Maybe he’d share his jacket. 

The thought of him sharing anything makes you laugh and he gives you a frustrated look. “Don’t go losing it on me. Not yet at least.”

You lean forward, face nearly pressed against his and grin. “You know, I haven’t heard a thank you yet.”

He scoffed, opening the Stimpak with one hand and preparing the injector. “Yeah, for what?”

“Saving your life, dick.”

You’re caught off guard when he slams the needle into your stomach, your lips part with a silent gasp and you wince at the cool rush of medicine. He grins at you, “Well, thank you for being the only dumbass to get herself stabbed in a gun fight.”

The medicine works fast, you learned that from when he’d shot you. You can already start to feel the pulse of blood slowing and your head clearing up slightly. “Asshole,” you hiss, leaning away from him. But his eyes stay trained on you, on both of your blood covered hands and where they still rest, linked together, on your stomach. 

You find yourself taking advantage of his distraction to really look at him. It bothers you, how after everything, his eyes are still so pretty. It’s the first thing that drew your attention when you were younger. Those eyes of his had you swooning from the first time you saw him on the big screen. 

He catches you but you can’t find it in yourself to care. There’s something odd in the air, a lingering tension from the kiss you’d never discussed. From the silent partnership you’d never voiced. You’d nearly gotten yourself killed for him tonight, the thought finally seemed to be dawning on him. 

His eyes drop to your lips and he leans in. He doesn’t get very far, lips just barely brushing yours before you’re jerking back in surprise. You’re bleeding out in his hands and he kisses you? Your hand is up and cracking across his cheek before you can think about it. 

His head whips to the side with a satisfying crack. He lets out a breathy chuckle, using his free hand to soothe the area you’d hit. He stretches the tension out of his jaw and shakes his head before he looks at you again. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you. You definitely shouldn’t be further entertaining his ideas that he holds any sort of possession for you, but you’d just realized what that look in his eyes had been earlier. He had been worried about you. 

Cooper has always been the one who protected you. Not the other way around. And as twisted as he’d become, it still relatively remained the same dynamic today. You’d caught him off guard earlier, putting yourself in danger like that for him. And he had been worried about you. 

You grab him by the collar of his jacket and drag him forward before he can decide what to do with the fact that you slapped him. Your lips meet again and he hovers over you on your chair. The hand on your stomach pushes harder against you, deepening the pressure and making you groan into his mouth. 

He doesn’t waste time, deepening the kiss and letting his other bloodied hand drift into your hair. His fingers curl around the strands and he yanks your neck back, manipulating you how he wants and bending you to his desires. You melt into it, into the complete control you allow him to momentarily wield over you. 

You let your mind go blank and just focus on him. You can pretend, for now, that you’re in his old house. You’re coming back after a date at one of those fancy restaurants that he hates, but he takes you there anyway so you can have an excuse to dress up. 

He’ll whisper I love you and drag you to the couch. You’ll start there, his kisses traveling lower until he’s dragging you back to his bedroom. You’ll feel valued, cherished, loved. Cooper will take care of you. 

He parts slowly from you, still keeping a firm grip on your hair. It takes a moment for your eyes to flutter open again. You’re sure you look like a mess, staring up at him with glossy eyes and swollen lips, completely drenched in your own blood. 

“Don’t think about him when I’m the one kissing you, darling.” Your eyes widen and he lets you go. He shoves back from you and paces towards his bag. Any warmth in his eyes, any care, was gone. 

You want to say something to drag him back but the moment has passed. It’s not like he was wrong, you were pretending he was someone completely different to make yourself feel better. 

But you couldn’t make yourself feel guilty when you remembered half the reason you needed the comfort was because of who he was now. He comes back with a needle and thread. He lets the needle hover over the men’s fire for a moment before he approaches you with it. “Stimpak will only do so much, need to sew you up.”

You nodded and looked away as he knelt down and pressed the needle into your skin. You barely felt it,  could barely pay attention to him when your thoughts were on what it was like before. What he was like before. Sometimes it makes you sick to your stomach to look at him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Miss Wolf.

Pairing: Toji fushiguro x hybrid reader (human with ears and a tail)

Warning: Abuse, black marketing, Murder, Owner-pet to lovers, Protective toji, Oral (male), Creampie, Baby fever, Breeding kink, Tail pulling Degrading kink, Praise kink, Hybrid discrimination. (Fan art, not mine)

"Sold! For 34,000 yen!"

Toji's eyes snapped open as his snores came to a stop, his body jerking from its laid-back state. "Goddamn." Toji groaned as he tried to rub away his headache. The fucking bastard Toji had been tailing must of never heard of resting, the old geezer always had something to attend to. It never stopped. Sighing Toji fixed his black tie and drooped his arms on the chair behind him as he boredly watched the betting. Black markets weren't Toji's thing, yes he killed people for money but he wasn't that evil compared to the sick fucks around him as he blended with the crowd, his target right on stage.

"Okay, now let's move on to the most beautiful piece of all," his target exclaimed, dramatically extending his arm as two men brought out a large cage covered with a blanket. When the men removed the cover and the light shone on it, the assassin became interested for the first time that night. Despite your weak appearance, you growled fiercely, baring your sharp teeth and emanating a fiery hatred. The target then began the bets. "A wolf hybrid, pucked straight for the wild and when in full animal form, beautiful grey fur coat and the most gold eyes you will have seen. Bidding will start at 120,000 yen!" like that, hands raised and the price went up. "And Sold! For 290,000 ye-" The announcer's sentence was cut short as a bullet shot through his forehead, blood gushed out like a river and his big body fell to the floor, screams erupted within the crowd, and people ran for cover. Toji paid them no mind, calmly walking to the stage, pistol in hand, once and a while shooting down brave guards.

"Well, aren't you a beauty?" Toji hummed as he squatted down in front of you. Toji reached a hand through the grimy cage and towards you. Your (eye color) eyes flicked to his hand, then to his face, as his hand came closer, and without hesitation your sharp fangs piece the side of his hand, blood spurt out the wound as you bit down. Toji's lips spread into a smile as an amused glint came to his eyes, "such a feisty girl." He cooed, calmly pinching your nose, blocking your air supply and forcing you to let go, you did so with a growl as your ears laid back on your head, "Let's go home, yeah?"

Toji stirred wake to a scorching wet, sentiency surrounding his fat cock, a feel he knew all too well. "Having fun puppy?" He chuckled and threw off his blanket, revealing a cum-worthy view, of his little puppy between his thick brawn thighs, your mouth stuffed full of his dick, cheeks puffy and pretty bedroom eyes looking at him through those beautiful long lashes. Sighing contently toji's hand griped the strands of your soft hair and pulled you off, earning a disappointing and needy growl from you, "What do ya think you're doing huh?" He asked, sitting up on his elbow, those smaragdine eyes boring into you with lustful intent. "Y-you smelled so good! I just wanted a taste, sir!" You whined, diving to take him into your maw but it was useless as the most it did was give your hair a painful tug. Toji shook his head, tsking at you "You know better." Was all he said as he let go of your hair and laid back, one hand behind his head.

he pointed to his twitching cock and you knew exactly what he wanted.

And without your permission, your fluffy tail wagged in excitement as you scurried on top of your lover's broad hips, his girthy length stood tall and at attention. You can already feel your flower, grow wet with your shiny slick at the sight of toji. His hands behind his silk ebony hair, eyes lidded, face sexily stoic, his biceps flexed, hard, sculpted chest and abs flaunted.

You couldn't take it anymore, with one hand you lined his cock to your heat and slid down. Delicious inch by inch his member stretched your walls, until he was sheath all inside, and his cock rested against your sweet spot. Panting,your tongue rolled out as you lifted your hips and slammed down, your hips bucking wildly, his hairy rough pubes grinded against your oversensitive clit in a way that had you seeing stars. Your skin soon because wet, and slippery with a shen of sweat as you moved your legs into a squad position, and bounced onto your lovers cock with more leverage then before. Your claw dug into the pecs of Toji's chest, his large hands on your waist, jerking upward once he was fully within you.

yelping as your breasts meshed against Toji's chest, his strong arms wrapped around you, pushing you and pinning you down as he worked his dick in your slick, plush cunt, bumping, and stroking your walls and cervix "Fuckin' love your pussy puppy, so slutty 'n needy f' my cock." Toji growled, planting his feet onto the mattress and snapped his hips faster. with a cry, your orgasm hit you like a train, "Shit! That's my whore, gonna give ya some puppies! Gonna breed ya fill of me." he groaned, empting himself in your clamping and pulsing pussy.

Too say Toji fushiguro was a morning person would be a lie, if anything he hated mornings. but seeing his little puppy tail wag so fast it was a blur as you excitedly bounced on the heels of your feet as your ears turned ever so way, barely bothered by the collar and leash he was forced to put on you. It wasn't always like this.

It took months almost a year for you to trust him, the first time he tried to feed you, resulted in another bite mark on his arm but slowly by leaving food outside the door you became comfortable and one day you sat beside him as you ate. Two months later you had begun to spend more time with him, watching racing shows together and watching him move around. Days out, you'd hold onto his arm and hide behind him, ears twitching and tail low. It was so cute. Toji didn't know when he had fallen for you but it was one of the best things that happened to him.

Toji let a smile grace his lips as he watched you jump from one side of aisle to the other side, taking in the sight of food and snacks while he leaned against the curt. Even with the number of times you came here you were still so marveled by everything.

By the time he was finally able to get you to leave and head home, it was the afternoon and You were rumbling away about going to the park soon to meet up with shiu and his hybrid Noa as you both walked down the stret then you stopped in your steps, looking to the other side of the side walk and into a ally way before he could ask what was wrong and what the hell you were glaring at when you were rushing through the busy road. "fuck puppy!" Toji growled out, dropping the groceries and using his heavenly restriction to by pass the rushing cars. He heard your snarling before he saw you, and it all made sense, a poor, badded and beaten dog hybrid that looked no older then ten years old stood behind you as you bared your fangs, ears pinned to your head, and pupils growed smaller.

"Move you stupid mutt!" A older man shouted, rising his hand to backhand you when Toji grapped his wrist. "Do we have a problem here?" He asked, stepping in front of you, his eyes narrowing as his grip tighted. "L-let go you bast-" the old man screamed unable to finish when a snap echoed throughout the ally way, "leave." Toji pushed the man way and smirked as the man ran way, holding his broken wrist.

"She is okay?" Toji wondered, standing up as you came into view. "She's fine, a bit scared and tired but fine" you sighed as you laid your head on his chest. The little dog hybrid, whose name you came to know was Aina.

She reminded you so much of your family, your pack.

Your little and bigger siblings, your mom and dad, uncles, aunts and cousins. You were alone, scared, hungry and tired of fighting when they had taken you from everything you knew and in that way she was like you.

You saw you in the way she practically inhaled her food, in the way her dainty fingers latched onto your dark grey tail as you helped her get clean as you did with your mom as a girl her age.

You couldn't let her go, can't let her be alone again

You and toji would be her home now.

A/n: Hey guys...im sorry this so long, life had me through a loop, something happen with my mother, heartbreak and I have lost any will to write until now. So I hope y'all like it.

Taglist: @gina239 , @blake-has-too-much-energy , @shrimphutao4ever, @dinotittes , @taysarchive, @ggvidaworld , @extasyl , @tojishugetiddies , @shadowsandexplosions , @venjrnjrbhrr19 , @kuro-chi69 , @cutesytwt , @tornparts , @thesweetestqueenofall, @faimmm, @bluechocolatemint, @daniella666girl, @trickstercumslut, @kpop-obsessed-kid, @darkstarlight82

[carmenized-onions]

Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths

logline; locking down chairs and a sweaty sleep deprived man (for now) (for the night) (platonically) (for now) (what?) (I didn't say anything).

series history, this is the third; First, Second

portion; 4.5k+

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (baby, Tony's mentally ill, get WITH it). We are once again, eatin' meat (beef!). Did I give the reader a curly girl routine? ....Perhaps...

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'girl' is thrown around quite a bit.)

is this entire series just a love letter to me wanting to take care of this guy? maybe so. maybe so.

Lifesaver. Lifesaver. Lifesaver.

Alright, fuck, you need to put on something to listen to because the thought isn’t leaving and the cherry lifesaver swirling in your mouth is so ironic that it’s leaving a bitter taste.

It’s after hours at The Bear, just after midnight, and you’ve returned to a clinically cleaned restaurant, ‘Ah… Syd keeps it locked in.’ and you’re thankful that you’re alone because it means everyone’s getting their proper rest. However, it also means your intrusive thoughts are really drilling in tonight.

You drop your phone on one of the booth tables, blasting music at full volume. That’s better. Little more static to work with now. You measure each booth and table for the third time tonight, rechecking that the angles are exactly as Syd had asked. They’re still perfect. Alright, get a move on, it’s not gonna somehow get more correct than correct…

You slip yourself under the table, verifying that the bolts are the proper fit— Also for the third time today. Hey, what if Home Depot fucked you earlier?! It’s important to check! You’re definitely not unreasonably anxious right now! But your power drill is practically screaming to be used at this point, so you acquiesce.

You’re on the last bolt when you hear a click of the front door opening.

“Fuck!” It scares you so shitless you jump and knock the top of your head on the table. You lay down quickly, back pressed to the floor to get a look at the perp. You point your power drill menacingly toward the front door.

Oh.

“Fuck are you doing here?” You and Carmen manage to speak in perfect unison.

There’s a beat before you opt to go first.

“Bolting.” Still lying under the table. You raise your drill upward, revving it a few times.

He swallows, sniffs, and scratches his nose. “Thought you were doing that tomorrow?”

“Technically it is tomorrow.” He scoffs, so you continue. “No, uh, Nat asked if I could come in after hours so I’m not as much of an active tripping hazard.” You gesture to yourself on the floor.

“Smart.” He rubs his eyes. He looks red and pink all over.

“…Thought you were getting off early today?”

“I did.” He clears his throat when you make a face about it. “I—I uh, did leave early, I just, just thought I’d come in and uh… Do some work.”

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing after a beat. “I’m, I’m uh, I’m good— In, in the kitchen.”

You chew at your inner cheek, staring at a very clearly distressed Carmy. His eyes are lined red, hair is in disarray.

“…Did you do it?” Did you break up with your girlfriend?

“…Yeah. I-I did.”

You just nod, thoughtful, before slipping back under the table, finishing drilling in the last bolt. “If you need a palate tester, lemme know.”

“Heard.”

The moment is soft but then cut short by you scrambling to quiet your phone atop your table when a perfectly unfitting upbeat song starts to sing out at max volume. He hides his smile poorly as he heads into the kitchen.

It’s a nice hour or so, in the front of house. You drill each bolt efficiently, grounding each booth and table in their place permanently. Your tunes play at a much lower volume now, careful to not alert the lone chef in the back. The intrusive thoughts have vanished with Carmen around, even if distant. He might not consider himself a brightening presence, but to you, he certainly is a nice lamp.

You stand up finally, finished, doing a big stretch of your arms and a crack of your back. You notice Carmen looking at you through the glass. He looks away, then back again, raising a hand, motioning for you to come in. Looks like you finished right on time.

It smells fucking incredible in here. You’re once again trying to temper your reaction as you pass through the door, not wanting to stroke his ego, but he’s already clocked it. It’s okay, you clock his boyish smirk of pride before he hides it with his hand, so you’re even.

On the steel table, plated— On their one black plate, because he’s not over having to settle for less— Are three perfectly cubed and seared pieces of marbled meat, glazed mushrooms, and some round breaded things that you’re not quite sure about. All perfectly plated and decorated with greens, parsley, specifically.

You step next to him, staring at the plate intently, taking it in visually. “Well?”

He hums in a way that sounds like a laugh, arms crossed. He stares at his own plate just as intently. “Pan-seared Wagyu— Sirloin. Wild mushrooms, basted in the same fat. Hazelnut-potato croquettes—”

“What the fuck is that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, he just smiles— In a way that looks actually kind of genuine. He likes to teach. “Seasoned mashed potatoes, basically. Breaded with bread crumbs and hazelnut, in this case, and fried. There’s a gruyere center, to this one.”

You don’t miss the fact that he’s not stuttering anymore. He’s right. He’s good in the kitchen. In all the ways that entails.

“Test?” He lifts a fork to you. You take it.

You lean forward, elbow on the table. You take polite, small cuts of each part of the meal initially, it feels bad to destroy what is an art piece.

But then he leans forward, head meeting your level, amusement lilting his voice. “You know it’s a compliment to eat?”

You huff, taking a larger piece of everything to get it all in one bite. Everything is so soft and lush that you don’t need a knife. Goddamn. You take your bite. Son of a bitch.

You thought fucking brisket was good?

“Oh my god.” You put your hand in front of your mouth as you chew, switching your gaze to him. “Carmen, oh my fucking god!”

“Yeah?” His glow is slowly coming back to him, like a flickering halo. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Fuckin’— So good! What is it, fire? Excellent? What’s the top one? I’m angry that it’s this good.”

“Angry is a new one.”

“I’m furious!” You laugh, “I always thought luxury dining was fuckin’ scam, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I— I took one bite and I’m incredibly full and— And, it’s just— It’s really really good, Carm—Chef. Gotta show it to Syd for the menu.”

He nods, smiling, finally, unhidden. “Thank you, Chef.”

He grabs the fork from you to try for himself, but before he can get to his own plate, you press the back of your hand to his chest, holding him back. “Uh, ah, can I do a thing, for you?”

He squints, curiously, putting his fork down. “…Yes?”

You grin, walking around the kitchen the second he affirms it. “Where’s your wine box?”

“Ah… By expo, over…” He points to it.

You pop it open, hand waving over each bottle for the right one you’re searching for. “I’ll pay for it.”

“S’fine.”

A young Pinot Grigio, you go with. Ripe, sweet, airy. You walk by him again, grazing your hand on the small of his back and placing the bottle in front of him. “Open, don’t pour.”

“Heard.” He roots away for the bottle opener.

“And get me a clean knife and cutting board!”

“Fuck are you doin?” He doesn’t complain, getting what you ask for, but he is quite curious.

You sort through the fruit pantry in Marcus’ section, grabbing the most perfect white peach you can— It wouldn’t be perfect by morning, he won’t mind. “I am an occasional bartender and poor man’s sommelier…”

You meet him back at his station, slicing the peach thinly with the knife he’s left for you. “So, when I’m given the chance to pair a meal, I try to.”

You halve the thin slices, then place a few in each glass Carmen’s so kindly set out for you— Tulip bowled cups. You whistle, “You know your shit…”

His eyes light up, just a bit. He shrugs, handing you the uncorked bottle when you reach for it. “My job.”

“You’re good at it.” You pour the wine, proper— No stops missed for Carmen. “Okay, okay, okay…”

You hand him his glass— The one you think you did a slightly better peach placement on. “Alright, now you can have the dish you worked hard on.”

With a small smile, he takes a generous bite of his dish, takes his time digesting it, then sips your wine. He tilts his head, surprised by how much of a liking he’s taking to it. “S’fire. Well worth it.”

You sip your own glass, smiling, you explain before he can ask you to. “Yeah? Good. Citrusy white to cut the fat of wagyu. Or something. Poor man’s sommelier, y’know.”

“Hm.” He sniffs, and you try not to light up when he writes down the wine pairing at the bottom of his drafted recipe card. “Better than me.”

There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. “You gonna head out?”

You squint at him, head tilted. “Are you?”

Once you know one Berzatto, you’ve known them all. Their tells included.

“…Eventually, yeah.”

“You drive?”

“I take the L.”

“Are you on the red or blue line?”

He doesn’t answer. So, that tells you he’s not on the only two 24-hour lines.

“…I’ll take a transfer—”

“When were you planning on going?” You cross your arms; he can tell where this is going and he hates it. You’re foiling his plan.

“When I’m done.”

“Done what?”

“…Cleaning.”

“I’ll help you,” You pick up the cutting board and knife swiftly. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I need to get work done—Too.” He takes a while to reply, but when he does, he speaks with haste.

You pause, putting the cutting board down. Let’s do the math here.

He said he came in ‘early’ this morning, but ‘early’ probably meant overnight because of the Fridge Guy. He left early, sure, before the dinner rush— But only to experience his first breakup—If you can call it that. Then he’s come back at midnight again, after everyone else has left. The likelihood he’s slept since the night before his opening isn’t impossible, but if he did sleep, he slept here. And he definitely hasn’t showered. He’s likely been awake 40 hours.

You nod, picking up the board again, walking it to the sink. You stand over it in thought.

“What’s wrong with home, Carm?”

“It’s gonna hit, if I go home.”

He swallows, “Everything’s gonna hit, when I go home.”

Now that you can understand. You nod, scrubbing the cutting board clean. “When your brother died, I holed up at my parents’ for two weeks.”

You don’t turn off the sink, even after you're done cleaning, because if you do, you fear he will hear your tell-tale heartbeat. “When I came back, my plants were half dead and my fridge was a biohazard.”

He sniffs, he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, for you to tell him he has to go home, that it only gets worse if you wait it out, that he needs to find a better way to deal with this—

“You can hole up at mine.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head to look at him. He’s very hard to read but it looks like he’s entertaining the idea. You add, for the sake of levity, “You need a fuckin’ shower, man.”

He smirks, though the amusement doesn’t meet his eyes. “When I shower all my fuckin’ hairs gonna fall out.” He piles his dirtied utensils and boards, sidling up to the sink next to you.

“You need rosemary water.” You grab a dish rag, switching over to dry for him.

“Does that shit actually work?” You both quickly ebb into the domestic flow of handing off dishes. He mumbles ‘left-most drawer’, ‘top-shelf, right side’, and so on whenever you’re confused about where they go once they’re dry.

“It does. I have also had the ‘am I balding?’ crisis. Believe it or not.”

He stares at your hairline so intently you put your hand in front of it, flustered. He finally flicks his gaze back to yours. “If you’re really worried, you can make it pretty easy—”

“I’ll stay over.”

You take a second to register, then nod happily.

“Good. Where’s the black plate go?”

Your apartment is surprising because it’s built on top of an H&R Block, the concrete stairs leading up to it are chipped to hell, and the front door has clearly been graffitied then painted over then graffitied then painted over then graf—

And yet, it is almost certainly one of the best-looking apartments he’s seen in Chicago— On the inside at least.

None of the furniture matches, but it’s nice, it’s eclectic. It’s heavily thrifted and upcycled from furniture you found on the side of the road. That’s the nice thing, about being a fixer—Nothing’s trash if you believe in yourself. You drop your keys in a handmade clay tray— That’s the other thing Carm notices, so much of this is you alone.

The place is a mess, there’s half-finished projects in the corner of every room, tools strewn in odd places. And it’s perfectly welcoming. Warm. In a literal sense, too, because there’s a humidifier going off on a timer in the living room to make what Carmen estimates are your forty thousand plants and cuttings happy.

This is a perfect apartment because you live in it.

Nothing can hit, in here.

He comes back to reality when you reach your hand out to him, there’s a coat hanger in your other hand. Oh. Jacket.

“Oh, fuck.” He peels off his jacket, handing it to you. “I uh, I left your Carhartt at work.”

“S’fine, if I was in a rush for it back, I would’ve asked.” You brush off easily, hanging up the jean jacket in your small coat closet. “Ah…”

Your apartment has a pretty open layout, but you point at everything regardless.

“There’s the kitchen…” It’s on the right at the entry, with an open archway— Which you’re in the middle of rounding the corners on with plywood.

“The living room…” Straight ahead, he can see the half of it that isn’t blocked by the kitchen. You’ve got big windows, with a fire escape. Suncatchers and more plants are hanging from the ceiling by it.

“To the left, down the hall— The only hall, bathrooms on the right and straight ahead is the bedroom, you can put your shit there.”

His brows furrow, you say the last part quickly, and he’s going to say something but you grab the black plate he’s brought and brush past him to the kitchen.

So, he just shrugs off his backpack, “Heard.” And heads down the hall. For now.

It feels odd to put this very fancy, very expensive one black plate on top of the rest of your own cheap dishware— But he insisted you take it, so, here it is.

You march down the hall, going to grab towels for him from your room, but stop short when you hear him in the bathroom, mumbling, “Fuck is this?”

You peek in, “Fuck is what?” You come in when he turns the bottle in his hand for you to look at. You stare at it for a solid few seconds, genuinely alarmed, you look at Carmen with wide eyes.

“Carmy, look me in my eyes and tell me you know what conditioner is.”

“I—I know what conditioner is, but what are all the words for?”

“All the words?”

“Like, strengthening, bonding, texture—”

“Carmen?!”

“Don’t say my name like that…”

“You have wavy hair, too, Bear!” You stare wide-eyed, mouth in an open-mouth smile because if you don’t laugh you’ll start screaming. You swipe away the hair in front of his face, holding the tress between your fingers to get an idea of texture. You’re too focused to clock the way he flinches— At the nickname and the touch.

“We’ve got like, the same hair texture! What the fuck are you using?”

He doesn’t answer, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Carmen…” You can make a pretty good guess. He bristles again. He has discovered does not like it when you say his name with any sort of animosity or disappointment.

“Carmen no… Two in One?”

“…Five in One.”

“Five in One?!” You clutch the sides of your head. “What are the Five?!”

He waves his hands in defense, “It’s—”

“Y’know what, don’t fuckin’ tell me, I don’t wanna know, I don’t need to know.” You cover your face and shake your head. “Just— I will get you clothes and a towel, wash—” You reach into your shower, grabbing your fruity body wash. “—Wash yourself with this, like a civilized person— And just don’t— Don’t touch your hair, I’ll take care of your hair after you shower.”

“You’ll take care—”

“You’ve lost your hair privileges; I will be taking up the arms.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I just—You need a tutorial, please.”

He holds the body wash in his hand, debating this fight or not, “I think five is—”

“Just fuckin’ say heard.”

“Heard.”

Despite everything, you both laugh. You tap the doorway on your way out, yelling to no one as you turn back down the hall. “Corner!” It’s worth it when he laughs again.

Ironically, the one shirt you know will fit him that you have is ‘The Berf’, so you grab that. Pants are a bit tougher, but with enough scrounging through your closet you find a long-forgotten pair of sweatpants your brother left here ages ago.

You approach the bathroom door, it’s still ajar, so you invite yourself in. He’s staring at your skincare products with a clinical fascination, stopping only to acknowledge your presence.

“Alright, alright.” You pop your pile of things down on the sink counter, handing each thing to him individually.

“New toothbrush.” Still packaged. It’s got your dentist’s address on the clear plastic. “Pyjamas. Towel, wash cloth— I think you’re good.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you catch the tail end of him staring— Again, his eye contact is so soft and also scary. And now that the sleep is catching up to him, he’s half-lidded and— Goddamn it he is very pretty, sonofabitch.

He straightens up, sniffing, nodding as a form of thanks, the likelihood he’s registered anything you’ve said isn’t likely— Which is fine, you are now too flustered to care. There’s a boy in your house and you’ve just discovered he’s pretty.

“I’m just gonna wash my face n’ grab a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

You wash your hands; he unwraps his toothbrush. And without verbally checking in, you once again flow into a silent rhythm. You grab your toothbrush, dole out toothpaste on both of your brushes, and stare at yourselves and each other in the mirror, side by side as you brush.

You make a face, and while he doesn’t fuckin’ guffaw, he does smile, foam peeking through the corners of his mouth, and that’s enough for you.

You rinse— You try to be dainty about it but it’s not, because when has brushing your teeth ever been dignified?

You pump face cleanser into your palm, then nod to him to do the same. Good Carm, he listens. Like a mime tutorial, he follows your actions of foaming it in the hands and properly washing his face. There’s hope for this five in one boy yet.

You pile together your skincare and leave him to shower in peace. More importantly, leave to let yourself lose it in peace.

Oh my god there’s a pretty boy in your bathroom and it’s two in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking? You just invited him over without hesitation? You met him like barely two days ago! Oh my god! There’s a pretty boy in your bathroom! And it’s two! In the morning!

You need to kill the teenage girl in your head because she’s freaking you the fuck out. You were literally being so calm and chill and cool and cool and chill and calm— Oh my god you’re doing it again—

Everything is fine. He’s literally here because he’s experiencing a torrential downpour of awful. You invited him over because you’d invite anyone like that over. Pretty or not. Get your head in order.

You take a deep, mindful breath and exhale, returning to neutral as you meditatively go through your skincare routine and change into your nice pajamas— Y’know, the one modest matching set for when you have guests or go somewhere. Instead of the one usual incredibly stained oversized t-shirt.

You set up a chair by your kitchen sink, towel on the back for comfort. You were serious about the hair thing. Your scalp and his are curly girl sisters, you cannot leave them to die like this.

When he comes out, knots in his back undone, steam wafting, grime finally removed, he approaches you with much more energy, and leans against the doorway. You both speak at once.

“Weird to see you out of uniform.”

You snort; he flattens his mouth into a line to keep from smiling too hard (which, for Carmen, would really just mean smiling with his teeth). But really, it is weird. You’re both suddenly… People. You can see all his tattoos and his stupid gold chain...And he can see you.

You kick the chair with your foot, gesturing to it. “Sit, I’m washing your hair.”

You’re walking past him before he’s got the chance to deny, collecting proper products from the bathroom to use. Y’know. Not fucking five in one.

Once again, good Carm listens, sitting in the chair. Not without complaints, though. “Big fan of babying people?”

You wrap the towel behind his neck, tilting his head back into the sink. If you pretend, it’s like a salon. You hum in reply, blunt, “Yeah, I am.”

“I like to take care of people. In a way, it’s kind of my job.” You re-rinse his hair once the water is warm— Thank God your kitchen faucet is a sprayer.

“You’re good at it.” He’s too comfortable and lethargic to be aggro about this, so he’s just sweet and honest. It’s hard not to beam.

“I try.” You massage shampoo through his scalp, “I know I’m pushy about it, sometimes.”

He sighs, a breath of relief. When’s the last time someone else washed his hair? He’s been cutting his own for years, he cannot remember the last time. Had to have been before New York.

“Were you pushy with Mikey?” He’s not fully sure why he said that, and he’s waiting for you to make him regret asking it.

You just hum, nostalgically amused, “I think I got pushy because of Mikey.”

“Stopped hoping my friends would take care of themselves with the right tools and decided to just take care of them myself.” You rinse the bubbles from his hair. You’re happy to see his wavy pattern returning.

“A lot of work.”

“Not to me.”

You pump conditioner into your hand— And while he’d probably love for you to elaborate on that point, you have to pivot, “Alright, this part you actually should pay attention to— When you condition— Because you will be conditioning, from this point on.”

He just grunts in reply, but it sounds like enough of a yes to you.

“—When you do it, you’ll hang your head upside down and apply conditioner from the bottom— You gotta like, squeeze your hair in it—” You do the proper routine, squelching his hair, does he laugh at the sound? Yes. Yes, he does. “It’ll sound like that. And then rinse.”

You look at his peaceful, amused expression. His eyes closed. “Heard.”

“Are you retaining any of this?”

“I said heard, didn’t I?”

You just scoff, rinsing his hair. You teach him how to scrunch with the towel, but his eyes are so dazed during it you give the poor boy a break and don’t explain that what you’re putting in his hair is mousse. He might have an aneurysm if you use a ‘food word’ in relation to hair right now.

“Alright, alright, the exhaustion is setting in, let’s get you to bed before you start seeing spiders.” You take his arm and hoist him up. Everything is fine until this bozo tries walking to the living room while you’re trying to pull him down the hall. You once again, speak in sync.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking the couch.”

He now realizes why you spoke so quickly about him putting his things away in your room instead of the living room. It’s like you just awoke every Italian ancestor in his bones because he is immediately alert.

“No, you’re not.”

That’s fine because he’s in your household, motherfucker. Your family tree is in the furniture.

“You’re the guest. You take the bed.”

“You’re the host. You take the bed.”

“I’m the one that invited you.”

“And what? You’re the girl.”

At a point, you are both speaking with your hands, words tumbling on top of each other's.

“Bitch—” “It’s just not right—” “I literally made you come over specifically to get proper rest—” “I will be haunted all night by my Nonna if you sleep on the couch—” “The couch is a pull-out, it’s comfortable!” “Then let me use it!” “No!”

This is going nowhere fast.

“My own grandmother takes the couch when I visit. She would throw me off my own balcony if I made a guest take the couch.” Is your hard stance.

And his, “My Nonno would stab me if I let a pretty girl sleep on a couch.”

Now this does immediately shut you the fuck up.

That doesn’t mean he’s won; he’s also shut the fuck up. A slip-up of mutually assured destruction.

You bite back your wheeze of shocked laughter, and you’re very thankful it’s two in the morning now because the moonlight through the window doesn’t entirely catch your reaction of being embarrassingly bashful in this moment. How did the teen girl in you survive? You were so sure you got her…

Your hands hang in the air for a moment, before you finally manage to say, “Either I take the couch—”

“No—”

“Or, it’s a double, so we share it.” You shrug, wringing your hands, “So whichever one you find the least sacrilege.”

God, there’s no simple way to make that not sound like you’re coming onto him, is there? You’re not, for the record. It’s just the fastest solution. You’ve shared beds before, it’s not a big deal— It’s actually only a big deal if you make it one, it’s actually very normal—Get this fucking teen out of here—!

“Fuckin’— Alright!” He huffs after thinking on it for some time, rubbing his forehead in some sort of anguish before marching down the hall.

When you don’t follow, he clicks his teeth. “C’mon, Tony.” His tone is languid and aggravated.

Ah, the sweet sound of a man who has had to compromise— But will be damned if he doesn’t get his part of said compromise. Also the sound of a man who really wishes he hadn't just said pretty girl.

You follow him to your room. Fuck it. Say the thing. You've been trying to keep a level social playing field with him anyway.

“Heard, pretty boy!"

two idiots realize the other one is pretty and nice and try to not acknowledge it (DIFFICULTY LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

Would you believe me if I said I was trying to not do the 'one bed' trope? I really was! I'm not a huge trope guy! But writing it down I was like 'neither of these people would fucking fold'. The only other option would be for both of them to stare at each other in the hallway for 8 hours and come to no agreement. Did not plan Pretty Girl but thank god because it was the only thing that would get them out of that time loop.

It's always my favourite thing when a person who's been cavalier when it comes to boundaries suddenly finds their line (he's pretty) and is now immediately so hyphy. I hope you also messed with this.

Tell me your thoughts!! Favourite bits, lines, etc!! Feeds me!! (Oh, speaking of fed, shout out to Daniel NYC, I did steal their menu for this. I'll probably do it again because I am not a Michelin Star Chef.)

[marleysfinest]

geto x fem reader idk this got away from me!!!

cw teasing, masturbation with toys, 69 (almost), fellacio

ok but suguru WOULD have you pinned beneath him on the sofa, almost 69'ing but instead of him being the one to pleasure you he's making you fuck yourself while he watches with his cock in your mouth.

making sure you don't move your toys for a second while he watches you slide them in and out of yourself, slick slowly building on the silicone, and listening to the wet rhythm in between moans. admiring how pretty and helpless you look underneath him, legs spread with your heels resting on the back of the couch, tits bouncing as you maintain steady strokes in and out of your pussy with your favourite toy. he's pushing himself into your mouth agonizingly slowly, making sure you take every inch of him as his tip grazes the back of your throat. your concentration is unsteady as you struggle to focus on everything at once, something suguru never fails to pick up on.

"keep going, baby, you can take both at once, can't you?"

he purrs with a groan as he prompts you to pick the speed back up with your toy, all the while sliding in and out of your mouth and taking the occasional break to coat your lips and chin with spit and precum. you suppress your gag reflex when he slides back in faster than usual, hitting the back of your throat hard and staying in place for a moment as he lets out a louder moan.

"fuuuuck," he whispers as he twitches against you. being able to feel how hard he is coupled with tasting how much he's enjoying you only fuels your own arousal, and you feel yourself getting wetter and closer. suguru is always the more controlling one, the more dominant one, and so whenever he lets the façade slip just for a moment to lean into being more verbal, you can't help but get excited with him. noticing how loud your strokes have become, he pulls back slightly to let you lick his tip and coat your tongue in his salty release, and slowly your core begins to tighten.

"that's it," he praises, "keep me right here. I want to feel you moan when you cum, baby."

you switch from languid strokes to a quicker pace, flicking your wrist back and forth to repeatedly hit that sweet, sweet spot over and over again. the only way it would ever feel better was if it was him. suguru watches intently as you quiver and shake beneath him, the heat rising to flush his chest and cheeks as he attempts to hold off his own release. when he leans down to brush his lips against your stomach it's too much; the warmth of his breath, the way the stray hairs tickled your skin, the way he throbbed as he leant forward, and in seconds you cum hard around your toy. your beau's gaze is hungry as he watches you coat your pink rabbit, and in a matter of seconds he's unable to hold back any longer. he pulls himself out of your mouth, leaving a trail of slick and spit across your face, to reposition you so that your ass rests on the arm of the couch, and your feet rest on his shoulders. he thrusts himself into your still throbbing cunt and firmly grips your thighs to keep you in place as he begins to piston into you. the breath is almost knocked out of you, but you still can't help but moan loudly, spurring him on. he's out of praise now, as he revels in your warmth and overstimulation. you're still so tight for him.

you instinctively arch your back in pleasure, and the sight of you overwhelms suguru. with a final thrust he spills into you and collapses onto your chest, panting with exhaustion. as your heartrates return to normal, he fetches a towel and flicks on the kettle to make you a steaming cup of tea.

graphics @/cafekitsune

[holylulusworld]

Gun for hire (2)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, being followed, sunshine reader, awestruck Lloyd, also annoyed Lloyd, character’s death, blood, safe-napping?

A/N: Another chapter this week.

Gun for hire (1)

Gun for hire masterlist

Lloyd watches you walk toward the other side of the counter to sit down and dig into your food. You chew slowly and close your eyes to savor the taste of the last food you’ll ever eat.

He pokes the pasta with his fork, brows knitted together as he tries to find out why he hasn’t killed you yet.

“How did you…” you begin but stop to eat another spoonful of pasta. “How did you become a hired killer?” You look at Lloyd. “I won’t tell anyone. After I’m done eating, you’ll kill me so…please tell me anything. This is the last conversation I’ll ever have.”

Lloyd drops the fork to look at the gun in his other hand. “I tried with the CIA, but that wasn’t my style. Before they do something you must write an essay or shit.”

You giggle when he makes a face. “So…you’re with the CIA?”

He sighs. “I just told you that I tried, and it wasn’t for me. I have my own business now, sunshine. No boss ordering me around. I’m the boss, and order people around.”

“Hmm…sounds interesting,” you nod thoughtfully before shoveling more food into your mouth. You chew slowly to think about your life, and what you want to achieve before you die. “Do you like it? Killing people for money?”

Lloyd looks at you, furrowing his brows. He never thought much about his profession. Lloyd loves money, and to be in charge. But does he like killing people?

He thinks about your question before a smirk appears on his face. “I like it very much, sunshine.” Lloyd steps closer to you to stand right next to you. “I love it when they beg, and whimper. Do you know how good it feels to end some douchebag's life?”

“Interesting,” you nod slowly. “Will you enjoy killing me too?” You look him in the eyes, stubbornly holding his gaze. “And if so, why? I never harmed you or tried to make your life harder. It was my boyfriend deciding to hire you.”

“Fuck’s sake, you’re annoying and too friendly. Why do you still smile at me while I stand right next to you, my gun unlocked?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Why not? You only try to do your job. Even if I could never harm anyone, I guess someone must do your job too.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he snarls. “I’m about to kill you, woman! Did you realize that this is not a joke? Is your head empty or something?”

“I got that you are here to end my life,” you slip off the stool to place your hand on his chest, soothingly running it up and down. “The question is, are you ready to kill me? You look a little unsure.”

“What?” He hiccups. “I’m never unsure…what?”

“Is this your first time?” You look at him and smile softly. “Did you never kill an innocent woman before, Lloyd? Do you want me to make things easier for you?”

His chest heaves up and down, and he feels his patience wear thin. You are making him crazy, and Lloyd doesn’t know how to handle the situation.

Can he kill you? If he kills you, he will break one of his rules. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t pay him. Lloyd doesn’t have an assignment and no reason to kill you.

Maybe he can end you – if only to stop you from making him doubt his intentions when it comes to you. Now that you have seen his face, he has got another problem.

“My first time?” He grins now. “Cupcake, I killed people when you were still in your nappies. What I do cannot be taught.”

You giggle. For a guy with a gun, Lloyd is funny. “You’re not that old. And…didn’t the CIA train you?” You knit your brows together, thinking hard. “I think I saw a movie…or was it a show…”

“Sunshine, we are not in a movie,” he growls and pats his thigh with his gun. “What is going on in your head? Why are you not like…screaming and crying.”

“Do you want me to cry for you,” you ask. “Would this make you feel better, Lloyd?” You smile sweetly and pat his chest. “How can I make you calm?”

“What are you doing?” He murmurs while you keep on touching him. People usually shy away when you step into their private space. Mainly when you are a stranger.

If you want to survive this day, you must outsmart Lloyd. He’s not used to people being kind to him, especially when he tries to kill someone. You’re nice, and kind – not stupid. You don’t want to die and will try anything to stay alive.

“I don’t know,” you whisper as you stand on tiptoes. You’re about to distract Lloyd with a kiss when you hear the front door burst open, and bullets hit the wall outside the kitchen.

You shriek and end up on the ground, Lloyd on top of you. “Stay down, and hide behind the counter,” he grunts in your ear. “Go…”

Lloyd rolls off you to scramble to his feet. You admire him for his catlike agility. He slides over the floor to hide behind the wall next to the door while you struggle to get on your knees to crawl behind the counter.

You’re shaking as gunshots hit the kitchen door.

Pressing one hand over your mouth you try not to make a noise.

“Come out, come out!” A man yells. “If you come out, I won’t hurt you, Y/N.” Shit, he came for you, not Lloyd. “I know you are in there. Your lovely boyfriend sent me to keep you safe.”

“Not a word,” Lloyd whispers, as if you are stupid enough to believe the other man came to your rescue. “Shush, cupcake and you will survive the day.”

“Come out, little bird!” The man kicks the door open. It hits the wall with a loud thud, making you flinch. “I know you are here…”

You hear footsteps, and then a loud thud. The man screams in pain and agony. “What the fuck!” You poke your head around the counter to watch him fall to his knees. Blood is spurting from a wound on his side. He desperately tries to stop the blood from leaving his body, but it’s no use.

“No, sweet cheeks,” Lloyd taunts. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He kicks the man, laughing as you scream for the first time. “Oh, so you can scream.”

“Y-ou shot him,” you blink at Lloyd. “Why? He wanted to make your job easier.”

“My job,” Lloyd empathizes. “It was my job to kill you. That piece of shit of a boyfriend hired a loser like that to replace me.” He kicks the man again. “You cannot kill my prey!”

“Please stop!” you sniffle. “You don’t have to be cruel.”

“That piece of shit wanted to kill you and you want me to go easy on him?” Lloyd kicks the whining man again. It’s only a matter of time before he bleeds out. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. What will it be, pumpkin?”

“Easy—” the man wheezes. He clutches his side while staring at you. “He said it’s easy money. Go in. Make it look like an accident and go out. I didn’t know he hired you too…”

“Well, you just tried to steal my kill so…” Lloyd aims his gun at the man’s head. “You will tell me everything about your client and where I can find him. Make my job easier and I’ll let you go.”

“At his new girl’s home,” the man splutters. “He wanted us to meet up at the park close to her home at midnight after the job here is done.”

“Good boy,” you cover your mouth when Lloyd shoots the man in the head. He doesn't see his end coming and falls to the ground, a stunned expression on his face.

You stare at Lloyd and his gun, scrambling away because you know, he must kill you now too. Your heart races and you try to swallow the bad taste in your mouth.

“FUCK!” Lloyd stomps his foot. “Fuuuck!” He growls in your direction while you try to crawl around the counter. 

Lloyd takes a few deep breaths. He tries to calm down and think about his next steps. While you press your back to the counter and close your eyes to count to ten, Lloyd secures his gun.

“Sunshine, get up,” he snaps his fingers. “Hurry, we don’t have all day.” You gasp when he suddenly stands in front of you. At least he tugs his gun away to hold out his hand for you.  “We need to pack a few things. I don’t know how many incompetent idiots your boyfriend hired.”

You blink.

“Chop, chop sunshine. I need to get you out of here. I won’t let anyone steal my kill,” he grabs you by your arms and brings you to your feet. “Light package, sweet cheeks.”

He guides you out of the kitchen and upstairs, telling you to pack a few things. 

Lloyd gives you twenty minutes before he drags you out of your house, two suitcases and one duffle bag in his arms. He mutters under his breath on his way toward his car. A pretentious black SUV. 

“Get inside, shut your mouth, and don’t make me shoot you. I need to make a few calls on our way home.”

He throws your luggage into the trunk, still muttering as you slip inside the passenger seat. 

You dare not breathe when he opens the door and claims the driver’s seat.

“We will talk about a few rules on our way…”

Tags in reblog.

[inamagicalhallucination]

strength always seems to be linked to the ability to stand alone, which is why i think so many ppl overlook atsushi's growth

in the beginning of the manga atsushi is filled with self doubt and the second he thinks he's bringing trouble to the ada he turns and tries to leave and go on the run

now mind you atsushi has just felt for the first time something that could be acceptance (say what you want about dazai's blackmailing, but has anyone wanted atsushi enough to try and trick him into staying? not the best way, i know but in all its um dazai-ness, it did show that atsushi had something (his ability, etc) that was worth having) and the second he thinks he's hurting them he tries to leave --- he doesn't ask for help, he doesn't try and talk it out, he stands alone

and i dont think atsushi's weak for doing this, mind you. atsushi's kindness and selflessness are both things that are part of his character, and i dont think the headmaster had any part of it, despite what atsushi believes --- but for all it shows atsushi's care, selflessness, and kindness, it also shows how little he values himself and how much he believes he's essentially unimportant

(editing to add: it also shows his inability to trust the ada's strength overall, and their commitment to their members, and his own role as a part of them)

him leaving shows that atsushi has always been alone -- at the orphanage, with the headmasters "attention" he was alone, in his suffering, his pain --- or perhaps its that he's alone because the headmaster follows him forever - becuz in a way he's surrounded but yet somehow he's all he's ever had

when in 55 minutes atsushi tells kunikida and dazai about time travelling, its not a show of weakness it's a show of growth

it shows that atsushi has learned that he doesn't have to be alone. atsushi can rely on others --- even if atsushi still thinks the worst of himself, he's starting to think of himself as part of the agency -- as someone who can ask for help

strength and growth arent only the ability to stand alone --- which mind you atsushi has done -- he's done it for 18 years and he may not have lived but he fucking survived with all odds against him, he survived and with all the makings of bitterness and anger, he did his best to be kind

but atsushi doesn't have to be alone -- humans aren't meant to be alone, he's better when he's with people he can trust and with the agency he's able to have that and he's able to understand that he has that

atsushi's character goes from someone who only has himself to someone who can rely on others --- someone who can be strong becuase he has people, and who, when weak, still has them

this is pretty much explained by atsushi himself on the boat pre-akutagawa

atsushi has always been alone. but now that he's tasted what not being alone is he doesn't know how to be alone anymore -- not because he's weak but because he's grown as a character, because he's changed

because he knows that he can be around people who won't hurt him

atsushi fights stronger when he's with akutagawa because strength isn't being alone, it's the ability to trust others -- despite only learning why you should never -- it's the ability to reach out and stand next to someone as their equal and fight together

atsushi is easily one of the strongest characters, because he's finally learned he can rely on people

his character growth and development are breathtaking to watch

[mxmmymilkers]

'just put it in, denki!'

you grumbled in annoyance, your gaze fixated on your best friend, clad in a hello kitty apron with a matching set of oven mitts.

'yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you-'

the blonde grinned in response to your scowl. you were unbelievably close to smacking him over the head with the cookie tray.

'one job- you have one job to do. put the fucking tray into the fucking oven.'

the two of you had spent the last two hours attempting (and failing miserably) at baking cookies for the upcoming class reunion.

it had been a few years since you graduated. you were convinced some upper deity despised you, because why would you end up keeping regular contact with denki kaminari of all people?

of course, your blatant distaste for the young pro-hero was all for show. you loved him, in one way or another.

'but i'm scared. what if i get burnt?' the blonde whined, jumping up and down in one place in attempt to hype himself up.

he resembled nothing but a toddler at that moment, you thought to yourself.

'i'll kiss it better if you get burnt.' you flipped the tables on him, deciding it was your turn to do the teasing for once.

flirting was nothing unusual in your friendship. neither of you had the balls to take any action beyond that (although it was pretty obvious you both wanted to).

denki's eyes widened. the hello kitty oven mitt went flying off. he was quick to fling the pre-heated oven open, sticking his hand inside.

both you and him screeched at the same time.

'you fucking imbecile! what the fuck is wrong with you?!' you yelped, yanking his shoulders back and pulling him away from the oven.

denki whimpered in pain, clutching his burnt finger close to his chest. his eyes betrayed the amount of pain he was in, but his cheeky smile never left his face.

'i believe i was promised something?'

you stared at him, completely dumbfounded. was he being serious? you knew he was dumb, but was he really that dumb?

'well stop staring and get to it. kissy kiss!' he shoved his now swollen finger in your face, waving it around with a pained grin. his lips puckered up and he made a smooching sound, urging you on.

you blinked once, twice, three times, trying to access the situation.

'you are completely demented. clinically insane. you should be put in a straightjacket.'

you grumbled in defeat, grabbing his hand harshly. your lips pressed softly against his irritated skin, your annoyance more evident than ever.

denki's jaw went slack. he wasn't expecting you to actually play along with his stupid plan.

'now that i think about it, i think my lips are a little scorched too. i'm such a clutz.'

he sighed, shaking his head in feigned disappointment at himself.

you raised your eyebrows, not surprised, but a little taken aback by his boldness. you should've been used to it at this point.

'are you messing around or do you really just want to kiss me that badly?'

you couldn't for the life of you tell if this was playful flirting or something more.

the blonde took a step closer to you, peering down at you with a small smile. 'what do you think?'

he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. you didn't dare look up in fear that your eyes would betray your emotions.

you didn't think about it much, you just stood on the tip of your toes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

even though it was short, you tasted the lingering traces of cookie dough.

'and here i was wondering why we only got 20 cookies out of a 30 batch recipe.'

you teased, not knowing how else to deal with the consequences of your actions.

denki stared at you in disbelief, completely surprised at your sudden boldness. he hadn't actually expected that line to work.

'uhm- uh- okay, yeah-' he stuttered. he didn't think his brain could get any more fried, considering his quirk, but he was obviously wrong.

his jaw hung open for a solid few seconds. he was blinking rapidly, trying to decipher whether or not your were matching his energy or if there was something beyond that.

you shrugged sheepishly, realising your hand was still gripping his.

'don't blame me. after years of flirting, i just couldn't take it anymore.' you loosened your grip on his hand, taking a small step back.

'yeah, but why did you have to go and do that?'

your expression fell slightly.

had you done the wrong thing and fucked up your whole friendship? stupid you, of course he was just messing around. he was your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

'my bad.'

you cleared your throat, hastily wiping your hands off using a washcloth.

'i think you can finish the cookies by yourself. i'll see you tomorrow at the reunion.' you grabbed your bag from the chair by the kitchen island, trying to hide the dejection in your eyes.

denki still stood in front of the oven, frozen, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

had he loved your brief display of romantic interest? hell yes! could he do anything but stay still and stare dumbly at you as you left? hell no!

as soon as you had opened the front door of his apartment, he snapped out of his trance, rushing forward in an attempt to catch you before you left.

'wait-' before he could get the word out, you were already out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind you.

he had reached a whole new level of stupidity.

part 2? 🫨😱🙋‍♀️😹😄

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Ugh I love how the Streetkid Chris AU shows his parallels and differences to Kauri so well.

I wonder if Jake may be expecting Chris to be a little more like Kauri, and how that preconception alongside Chris being a little older and having his pill dependency vs seeing the "statue boy" in the rain will change things. Jake is very nonjudgmental so I think he'd quickly adjust to taking him how he comes, but this is a much more guarded Chris than he's used to. Plus Antoni is clearly worried about him being in the home.

Also, from Anon: please forgive me for storming into your asks so soon after you've posted already. but i am sobbing please write a continuation for streetkid chris (if you want to)

Streetkid Chris AU: One | Two | Three | Four

-

CW: Brief references to dubcon, heavily internalized ableism, conditioned fear response, panic attack, meltdown with stimming that causes injury, head banging

The pills kick back in about halfway through Baldur fumbling through helping Kauri to create a bed from a pullout couch. He's had some water and a handful of crackers, in the kitchen. Kauri had pulled him into the living room and moved around the space like it was his own, pulling sheets out of a closet door Baldur hadn't even noticed yet, along with pillows that he dropped unceremoniously onto the floor before he told Baldur how to take off the couch cushions and then pull the folded-up mattress on its metal frame out. Like watching paper, he thought, that you've made snowflakes out of when you open it up.

The twinge of pain he feels when the thought comes to him makes him wince. He keeps smelling something in the oven that makes his mouth water for a familiar taste he can't remember. It's locked tight back behind the white lights in his mind, and Baldur tells his thoughts to swerve away as fast as they can, to make the pain stop threatening to take over.

He's lucky.

The pills are working.

His mind is moving slow, but it's listening to him at least. It's like syrup pouring out of a bottle onto a stack of pancakes, so slow your hand is shaking with impatience, waiting for the promised sweetness that doesn't come. He feels clouded over, wading through fog, but it's a comfortable way to be. It's being good, to be like this.

Like mornings spent lying in Sir's bed, staring upwards at the ceiling or maybe beyond it, without thinking anything at all.

It's easier, this way.

Safer.

"So, there you go," Kauri says, standing back with his hands on his hips. The couch has become a cozy bed, with a half-dozen pillows and four blankets piled up high. Baldur could sleep there for days, and as long as the pills kept coming, he wouldn't even notice he wasn't moving. "Will that work? We'll have to share, though, is that okay?"

Baldur swallows. "I-I don't, um-" No. No no no. Statue boy, he reminds himself. Good boys are statue boys. Silence is better than stammering, stillness is better than what I do. His fingers twitch, just once, and then the fog of the pills smothers his fears and presses them down. The prickling energy that bursts out of him when he's sober is safely held back. He pictures his racing mind running out of air, limbs slowing, lungs expanding just once more and then no longer. "I don't mind. I... don't like to sleep alone."

"Yeah." Kauri's face briefly goes strange, like it's been emptied-out of feeling. "Me neither. Never have. Alone is-"

"-bad," Baldur finishes, in a whisper. "No one wants you."

"Right. Yeah. They taught you that, too, huh?"

"No one wants you... then you're not real," Baldur says. He can feel his handler's hand heavy on the back of his neck, like a ghost breathing against his ear.

"... Shit. I guess even the worst shit was just part of the program, huh?" Kauri stares down at the couch-bed for one long moment of heavy silence, then he inhales sharply and laughs, empty and hollow. "We're just fucking dolls in the toy store for rich idiots to pull the legs off of, aren't we? All the same, come in the same boxes-... never mind. I'm having a weird day." He shakes himself like a dog shaking off water. "Just ignore me being weird, it happens sometimes."

"Yeah," Baldur murmurs. "Me, too. Happens... to me, too." Baldur hears an echo of someone screaming in his mind - maybe himself - but the stab of pain doesn't come. He manages to smother the memory before it can come together enough to hurt him.

Kauri takes a deep breath. "Okay, so. Weirdness steadfastly ignored, we'll just settle in and then when dinner is ready-"

The front door opens, and Baldur spins on his heels, hands slipping behind his back. Position One is thoughtless, effortless, instinctive. He always met Sir in Position One or Position Two, depending on the day. Kauri, though, doesn't slip into any position - he just smiles, wide blue eyes sparkling with a warmth Baldur has never seen in him before.

The man who walks inside isn't that much older than Baldur, but he's huge. Tall, and heavily muscled, built like the handlers who could pick Baldur up like a child and force him back against the wall or onto a table no matter how he kicked or fought, until he learned not to fight any longer. He has close-cropped ashy blond hair trending towards light brown, pale skin, and his own face lights up as soon as he sees Kauri, returning the sunshine looks they give each other.

It hurts.

Baldur's never had anyone look at him like that.

"Hey, Kauri," The man says, in a deep voice that sounds like the warm summer nights when Baldur sleeps out in the park and doesn't get cold at all. Then he looks over to Baldur, still standing in careful position, and some of the warmth fades. "Woah. Who's this?"

"Friend of mine," Kauri says, and he grabs Baldur by one arm and pulls him closer, careless of how he stumbles. Once they get close enough, Baldur can smell the tall man's cologne. It's a good smell, kind of woodsy. Not at all like Sir's, which would feel like it stuck inside of Baldur until it was all he could smell. "This is Chris."

"Hey, Chris," Jake says. His smile is back in place, but it's more polite. He holds out a hand, and after a delay, Baldur realizes he's supposed to shake and sticks his hand out. "I'm Jake Stanton."

Baldur catches the way his eyes drop, seeing the barcode on the inside of Baldur's left wrist. Nothing in his expression changes at all, but something of the fizzing tension in the air does. Baldur swallows around a tightness in his throat.

Those eyes are back on him-

Oh. Jake's eyes are blue, too. Like Kauri's but not like his at all.

"WRU, Facility 001, Designation Romantic 223499," Baldur says automatically, to the unspoken question he thinks he sees there.

"You don't have to do that here," Kauri says in a rush, putting a hand on Baldur's back. "It's not like that."

"It's... always like that," Baldur says. He thinks he sees interest in Jake's face, curiosity, and maybe that's who he'll have to give his body to, to earn dinner and the couch bed to sleep on. He can do that. As long as he keeps his mind untethered from his body, he can move his hips and arch his back and make all the sounds and drift inside of himself until it's over.

"Not here," Jake says, voice deep and gentle. He won't be so bad, Baldur thinks. He'll be slow about it, not like the ones who don't care if it hurts. He won't have to lie as hard to make it believable that he enjoys it. "You don't do that here." He turns back to Kauri, and it feels like light moves behind a cloud when his eyes are off of Baldur. "Where's Nat?"

"Up in her room," Kauri says, shrugging. "And Antoni-"

"Is here," The feline-eyed man says from the bottom of the stairs. Baldur blinks, then jumps - a half-second delayed. He hadn't even heard him come down, even though the stairs are creaky in such old houses. "I can talk to you about something?" Those dark eyes briefly rest on Baldur.

There's no warmth in them.

"Huh? What's up?"

Antoni pauses. "In my room, please, Jasha."

Baldur's heart chills. Even through the pleasant fog of pills, he can hear the coldness there. And he knows it's about him, he knows it. He's done something wrong, wrong enough to be talked about. Like handlers outside his door, talking about what he did wrong and what they'll do to make him sorry. He chokes on the fear of it - consequences hurt so much. He must have been caught swaying, or touching, or making sounds that are against his rules.

"... sure, Ant. Just a sec." Jake frowns. He leaves his sneakers on a mat by the door and follows Antoni up - the stairs creak when he walks up them. They're already talking in low voices that don't quite travel.

He hears Antoni's voice, a soft, Not sure it is a good idea for him to be here.

He did something wrong.

Suddenly, Baldur can barely breathe. His vision is blurs of color, shadow and light. His fingers twitch again, and this time they don't stop. His head is full of a crashing noise that even the pills can't hold back.

He's in trouble. He did something wrong. He's in trouble, and they'll come back down and ask, Do you know what you did, darlin'? And he'll have to guess, and he always guesses wrong.

The games are always rigged for him to lose.

You don't learn any other way, sweetheart.

His breath gets halfway down his throat and stops there. It's stuck, and he wishes he was so drunk he blacked out, or so high he slept for the next few days, until whatever he's done wrong blows over and they forget to punish him, or maybe just punish him but he doesn't remember it.

His heart beats so loud inside of him, blood rushing in his ears. His eyes go to the wall, and he can quiet the chaos inside him if he can get to it, but his feet are stuck right here to the floor. He can't. He can't, it's against his rules, he has to be good, be a statue boy, be silent be still but being still hurts so fucking much when he's scared-

Kauri isn't looking at him. He watches the two men go, thick eyebrows a little furrowed. "I wonder what that's about. Antoni can be so weird, sometimes, I swear-" He breaks off and turns, looking at Baldur. He must see something there. He must see the terror in wide green eyes, the white showing all around, in the way his fingers are shaking, how he can't quite stop bouncing on the balls of his feet with the need to get to a place he can curl up and hide, or hit his head on the wall, until the chaos quiets and he can think again.

The pills are supposed to stop this.

They don't.

"Chris?"

He flinches violently backwards when he realizes Kauri is right in front of him, has somehow moved without him seeing. Those long-fingered hands are warm, palms on either side of his face. Those big blue eyes are looking right at his, reflecting him there in Kauri's pupils. When he flinches, Kauri pulls away, and Baldur misses the warmth of touch the way he used to miss darkness when he lived always under white lights.

"Hey." Kauri's voice is soft, slow and gentle. "Hey. Chris, what's wrong? Talk to me?"

There aren't words. He can feel them, there are words, but they're trapped behind teeth on top of tongue. They shift, dipping beneath the surface before he can get his mouth around them. He can't use any of them at all. His hands move, shaking, to twist and pull at the hem of his shirt, but-

No-

Have to be still-

He can't.

He can't be still. He can't be the statue boy, the fear is too strong. And if he can't be still, he'll be in even worse trouble. It's a cycle, a loop of warm ocean water sucked up into the hurricane. It's ash blocking out the sun, killing all the dinosaurs. He remembers the dinosaurs. He remembers the asteroid hit the earth, and the planet was swept by fire burning everything that survived the strike. He remembers that his mind moves like objects in space, impossibly fast and dangerous, because it isn't allowed.

"Chris?" Kauri's swimming in and out of his awareness. He knows there are hands on him, leading him to the couch bed. He feels, distantly, the softness of pillows as his back rests against them. He knows as if staring from the top of a mountain that Kauri is speaking to him in a voice like the clouds rolling in far below.

He can hear other voices, too, but they don't make it through the haze of panic. It's derailed everything. The pills aren't helping, they're making it worse. He can sense the comforting warm blanket of being high just out of reach, and instead it's all terror, overwhelming, flooding the plain.

He knows his mouth is moving.

He can hear himself, tinny and small and from a distance too far to cover, saying, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't be mad, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to I didn't mean to I'm sorry, please don't be mad over and over again. He tries to be still. He hits his head on Kauri's shoulder and that strikes new terror, so he hits his head harder, then he bites - he buries teeth into skin that he only belatedly realizes isn't his when Kauri makes a sound of pain.

It's a cycle.

He's circling, he's a hurricane, his mind is dangerous and his body is wrong and it has to be stopped.

He can't stop.

He wails, half a scream that he tries to catch and pull back. The sound dips and drops, it becomes a low, wordless moan, over and over and over again. It rises from the person inside of him who used to exist before he signed his life away and they wrote a new him onto the body of the old one.

He used to be someone else.

He used to be someone better.

He used to make noises like this, before they made him stop. Before they made sure he knew that rocking - he's rocking, he feels himself sway forward and back, his fingers twisting and pulling at fabric, moving and moving to calm the rising chaos and violence inside of him - would lead to pain and fear. Before they taught him to take every pill he was given until his body was quiet and still and good for them, for the handlers for Sir for anyone who wants to fuck him or put a hand on his head and make him choke.

The thick clay shell they made him build up around himself, though, has gone brittle.

It shatters.

He rocks and rocks. He hears the sounds he is making like they belong to someone else. He feels tears, hot and burning as they track down his cheeks, cooling rapidly to drip onto his shirt, onto Kauri's shirt and neck when his face buries itself there. His sounds vibrate against Kauri's scarred collarbone. His fingers are gripped into Kauri's shirt now, holding so tight the threadbare fabric rips and his fingertips brush the heat of skin beneath. There are other voices besides Kauri's, but he doesn't listen to them, he can't listen to them or the fear will rise again.

Kauri is talking to him.

His chin is on Baldur's head, and he's talking, murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I've got you, I've got you, honey, it's okay," over and over and over again. One hand is on the back of his neck, a gentle weight that starts him falling back down to earth.

He rocks with Baldur.

The hurricane starts to wear itself out, spinning and spinning but the wind dies down. He's falling out of the eye onto the ground. The noise inside his head is agony but it's agony he can hear over and around. He doesn't know how long it's been. The rocking is gentle, endless and soothing, and Kauri's other hand rubs up and down his back like-

His mother-

Someone he can't remember used to do when he did this, a long time ago.

"It's okay. You're okay. You're okay," Kauri whispers.

There are other voices, but Baldur can't hear them or he'll be a hurricane again. He keeps his thoughts on Kauri, on the rock of their bodies together, on the weight and warmth of someone holding on to him until he can come back down to earth.

The eruption stops, the flow of rivers bright orange and red and white with heat cooling to dark, solid, safe.

His bones stop burning, his head stops pounding with the noise inside of it.

Kauri is still rocking.

"I've got you," His low voice whispers, too deep for his delicate shape and size. "I've got you, Chris. Let it out, you're okay, I've got you. I've got you."

He struggles to remember how to make the feeling inside him into words, manages to whisper, " Don't-... don't go-"

"I won't," Kauri promises. His arms are tight and strong around Baldur's shaking, skinny body. "I won't. I'm right here. I'm right here."

"What the hell-" Jake's voice interrupts. "What the hell happened?"

"Why... why is he-" That's Antoni, who wanted to talk, who was talking to Jake about him. His voice is shaking, though, his accent thick and heavy. "Why he is yelling so loud-... you can make it stop? The-... screaming-"

Baldur stiffens.

Stop.

Silent.

Still.

Be good.

Good boys are statue boys, good boys-

The thought breaks apart when he hears Kauri's voice crack loud like a whip against the tile floor. "Probably because the two of you decided to go goddamn gossip. Get the fuck out of this room before I take a cast iron to your faces, you assholes."

"Shit." That's Jake, he thinks. Baldur hides against Kauri's neck until he can't possibly see their faces. The anger, the hate, how they'll be planning his punishment.

But then... footsteps.

They leave.

They go.

Because Kauri told them to.

"Let it out," Kauri murmurs, once they're alone again. "Let it out. Whatever you gotta do, you do it. I'm staying right here."

Baldur tightens his grip on Kauri's torn shirt and starts, finally, to cry. The last of the hurricane falls as tears when the wind dies, draining the terror from him to soak into Kauri's shirt.

"I, I bit you," He whispers, when the words are there. When throat and teeth and tongue work together, finally, to form them. "I'm sorry. I... I, I bit you-"

"No worries," Kauri says, right against his ear. "Didn't even draw blood. Trust me, you're not the first guy to bite - probably not even the tenth - and you won't be the last. But, just between us... I think you're probably my favorite."

Baldur starts to cry again.

This time, it's not a hurricane at all. It's summer showers, welcome warm rain soaking into a thirsty dried-out earth. He cries until he's emptied-out of the fear, until all that's left is hollow like cracked clay warming in the sun.

Like grass growing between dinosaur bones.

He used to know about that.

Someone who lived in his head did, anyway.

But he knows about it, too.

Baldur didn't.

But... Chris does.

-

[kpop---scenarios]

Whiplash (6)

Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Sexually Suggestive Things, Language, Jealousy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2k

Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner @velvetmoonlght

One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

“You're fucking psycho if you think I'll ever be back in this house again.” You spit. “Who are you? The San I knew would never have done this! Never would have drugged me!” You scream.

Felix and Hyunjin stare at you like they have just seen a ghost.

“I-I never drugged you!” He stuttered. “Are you sure your brain is working?” He laughs.

“There's no way I'd sleep for 12+ hours without you slipping something into my water. I knew it tasted funny!” You yell.

“You mother fucker!” Felix yells, lunging for San. Hyunjin grabs onto him, holding him back. He knows it won't do anyone any good for them to fight, especially you. As angry as he was right now, he knew he needed to do what was best for you and Felix getting into a fight with San would surely not be good for your recovery.

“If I see you out, you better watch your fucking back. I'm sick of you and your shit with Y/N. I swear to god if you touch her again ill fucking kill you.” Felix screams as Hyunjin pulls him outside, with you following closely behind.

Felix pulls himself out of Hyunjin’s grip, walking a little down the short walkway, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.

“I'm sorry.” you whisper. Felix turns around, he looks confused. Hyunjin stares at you in disbelief.

“Sorry for what?” Felix asks, walking closer to you.

“for everything. For believing San over you guys, for coming here, for just everything that I put you through the last little bit.” You cry.

“Listen to me.” Hyunjin starts. “You didn't put us through anything. HE put you and us through hell for his own sick enjoyment.” Hyunjin tells you. You can hear it in his voice how angry and upset he is at the moment.

“Never apologize for this. This wasn't you at all.” Felix chimes in. “So don't feel guilty, don't be upset and don't ever think we're mad at you for any of this.” He finishes.

The three of you walk to the car, Felix opening the passenger door for you before climbing in the back while Hyunjin takes the driver's seat.

“Now.” He starts. “We can go to the house or your apartment, which one do you want?”

“My apartment please.” You breathe. “I begged San to take me there but he wouldn't. I just want to be home.” You say. Hyunjin smiles as he starts to drive in the direction of your place. They were so fucking happy that you had come back to them, but they couldn't help but wonder how long they would have you for before something went wrong, because in their life, something always went wrong.

“Ah, my bed!” You squeal as you lay down gently in your bed, making sure not to hit the still tender wound on the back of your head.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there anything we can get you? Do you want us to stay? Go?” Felix asks. He really hoped you would ask them to stay.

“Please stay. I don't wanna be without you guys.” You smile. “I know we're really just starting out this relationship and already so many things have happened..” you pause. “So if you want out, tell me now.” You finish, holding your breath.

They both look confused again.

“Out?” Hyunjin asks.

“Why would we want out?” Felix asks.

“Because. Like I said. So much has happened.” You mutter.

“I've waited years for you baby, I'm not going anywhere unless I'm 6 feet in the ground.” Felix says.

“Yeah, you wanna get rid of me love, you're gonna have to kill me.” Hyunjin winks.

How did you end up so fucking lucky? You usually weren't the one to have the happy ending but maybe now things are finally changing for you?

You get under the covers in your bed, patting either side for the boys. They crawl in with you, snuggling up to you. You can't help but fall asleep so quickly, feeling so safe and loved right now. Over the next week you spent almost all your time in bed with Felix and Hyunjin waiting on you hand and foot. By the end of the week you felt back at 10p% and you were so grateful for them. As the three of you went to bed that night, you had a plan for the next day and you hoped they would be on board.

**

You wake up in the morning, feeling refreshed and sweaty. You have Felix’s arm draped around you with Hyunjin’s leg pinning you down. Your head was kinda sore but not as bad as it had been. You were finally feeling more yourself but you knew you needed to take some advil or something to alleviate the soreness you were in. You felt normal again and you loved it.

“Felix.” you groan, poking up. “Hyunjin. Move. My head is sore. I need something.” You say. Both men shoot up in bed, scrambling out and each running in a different direction to find you something. Minutes later Felix comes back with medicine while Hyunjin appears with some water.

“Perfect.” You smile, taking the pills and water. “Thank you. But you know you really didn't need to rush. It's just a small headache.” You giggle.

Felix looks at his phone, then looks back at you. “The guys want to see you.. I guess Chan is really beating himself up about this.” He sighs. You crawl out of bed, looking for some clothes.

“Well let's go then.” You say, grabbing an outfit to change into.

An hour later you're sitting outside the house. “Are you sure you're up for it?” Hyunjin asks.

“Definitely.” You smile. You wanted your normal life back and you needed them to stop treating you like you were a fragile glass doll. You were more resilient than they knew. The three of you walk up to the door. When the door opened, there stood 6 men with smiles on their faces to greet you.

“I'm so glad you're back, Y/N. Once you're up for it I want a beer chugging rematch.” Han laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“You wanna lose again?” You giggle, moving on to Changbin who squeezes you tightly.

Seungmin and Lee Know both give you a quick hug, murmuring something you didn't quite catch, while Jeongin pulls you in tightly as well. You walk over to Chan, who's standing a little ways back from the group, his head hangs low as you approach him.

“I should have told the cops it was San..Y/N I'm so sorry for this whole thing. It's my fault.. I should have..” he continues to say, but you cut him off.

“Chan, stop it. You couldn't have known how things were going to turn out. I was fine and then I wasn't but I'm okay now. And I hope you know I'm not mad at you and I don't hold any of your decisions against you.” You say. You open your arms, pulling the sad man into you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, sniffling into your shoulder.

“Alright, alright.” Felix says, pulling you away from Chan. “She needs to rest now, go on.” He says, shooing the man away.

“Lix, I'm fine.” You smile. He looks at you like he's going to melt.

“Lix, huh?” He grins. “I like it.”

“Do you?” You say, matching his grin. You lean in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. “My Lixxie.” You whisper.

“Oh baby.” He groans, his deep sultry voice coming out to play. “You're just asking for it, aren't you?”

You turn your head, smirking as you look at Hyunjin. “You think I'm asking for it Jin?” You wink. He chuckles as he walks towards the two of you. “Mhmm, Jin? I don't know.” He sighs.

“How about Jinnie?” You whisper.

“I could get used to that.” He grins.

You lean in, your lips so close to touching before Chan pipes up.

“ Sorry to interrupt boys but we've got business to take care of.” He says, looking at Hyunjin and Felix.

“A race?” You question, looking between the two men.

Hyunjin and Felix both glance at each other before Hyunjin sighs. “Yeah there's a race tonight. But we have some things to take care of beforehand.” He says, looking at Felix.

“Stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can, okay?” Felix smiles.

No. You didn't want to stay. You were better, you wanted to go.

“I'm coming.” You say. You flashback to the last time you went and what happened. But you couldn't be afraid forever.

Felix and Hyunjin knew that they couldn't control you and if you said you felt ready then you were ready. They just hated the fact that they couldn't protect you while they raced.

“Fine. But while we race you need to stay with Chan and Changbin, okay? San will likely be there.” Hyunjin sighs.

You nod your head, excited to be able to see them race again. You stayed at the house while they went out and did whatever they needed to do before the rave, when they were done they swung by the house and picked an excited you up and headed out.

The crowd was larger than you remembered. There were more people racing this time and the spot was a lot bigger. You felt sure that with this many people in this big of a place you wouldn't see San.

“Who's racing now?” You ask Felix as the two of you sit on the bed of someone's truck, watching the tires spin and burn while the flag drops and the cars peel off.

“That would be Got7 in the blue car, I think it's Jinyoung driving. And then it's Lucas from NCT in the yellow one.” Felix says, sliding his arm around your shoulder.

Hyunjin walks over to the two of you, hopping up onto the truck beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

“We're up next. We race against whoever wins this one.” He says. You were nervous, you always felt nervous when they were racing. The chance that there was an accident was really high with how fast they go.

The three of you walked hand in hand towards their group, Got7 had won so they were racing against Jinyoung.

“Be safe.” You sigh, giving both of them a kiss. You link your arm with Chan's as you watch them both walk away. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking at all the people here who were watching, and your eyes landed on someone familiar.

San.

Your body tenses up so much that Chan notices. He looks where you were looking, your eyes locked in with San's.

“It's okay Y/N.” Chan says, rubbing your arm. “We're not going to let anything happen to you.” He smiles. Felix and Hyunjin peel off, the race starts. You knew San was going to be here but it still affected you and you really hadn't thought it would have.

A few minutes later you notice the rest of the guys standing in a half circle, talking to someone. Chan glances over and immediately a grin plastered across his face. “I'll be right back.” He says, pulling his arm from yours and walking over to the others. You stand there alone, peeking over to see a very beautiful girl that they were all talking to. You had no idea who she was but they were all clearly smitten with her. You looked through the crowd again, but didn't see San anymore. You started to calm down a little bit now, feeling like maybe he had left.

Until you feel someone grab your wrist and try to pull you. You look over, seeing San with your wrist in his hand, pulling you towards him.

“Come with me please.” San says, pulling a little harder.

“No. Let go of me.” You say, trying to yank your wrist from his grasp.

“Y/N stop, I just wanna talk.” He says. He starts walking towards the trees, dragging you with him. You turn your head.

“Chan!” You yell. He doesn't hear you. “Chan!” You scream a little louder. He puts up a finger, “just a second, Y/N.” He yells, not even turning around. You didn't have a second.

“I just want to explain!” San grunts. You're getting too close to the trees. Panic sets in. What did you do?

Scream. Scream Y/N.

You let out a loud, ear shattering scream. Chan and the rest of the guys all turn around, looking for you in horror. Chan sees you, San's hand covering your mouth as he drags you into the trees. He, Changbin and Lee Know run towards you, luckily grabbing you before San could get too deep. By the time they reach you, the race is over. Felix and Hyunjin had won, but instead of staying in the car to wait for the next race, they bolted towards the commotion they saw happening with you. They reach you just as Chan pulls you away from San.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Chan yells.

“I just wanted to talk to her!” San yells, defending himself.

“You okay, baby?” Felix asks, giving you a once over.

“How did this happen?” Hyunjin yells. “I thought you were keeping an eye on her!?”

“I was! I was talking to Jennie.. just for a minute.” Chan says.

“I yelled for you! You told me just a second!” You breathe.

Chan hangs his head. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I really didn't think he would try anything.”

“Hyunjin, you go race, I'll stay with Y/N.” Felix says, wrapping his arm around you, taking you away from the group. He had never been more angry at his leader than he was at this moment. The two of you sit there, your head resting on Felix's shoulder. You watched Hyunjin in the car waiting for the race to start. He looks over at you, blowing you a kiss. You grin as you blow one back to him. Felix takes his finger, placing it under your chin, turning your face towards his. He smiles at you before leaning in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You feel like you're going to melt with the way his lips feel on yours.

He breaks the kiss as he hears the crowd screaming, Hyunjin was racing San. You could feel your anxiety in the pit of your stomach. If San did anything or tried anything, you swore you would kill him.

Hyunjin takes off, you watch as he speeds off leaving San in the dust. You watch intensely where the cars come around the bend for the finish line. You were desperate to see Hyunjin come first. After minutes of waiting, you see him. San closely behind him. Hyunjin switches gears, The car takes off even faster, crossing the finish line well before San. The crowd erupts in cheers. You get off the truck, running towards Hyunjin. You push through the crowd of people and he grabs you, picking you up in a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, kissing you passionately before the guys come over to celebrate.

“We're going to the club tonight!” Chan yells. “Time to celebrate!” Everyone cheers. You turn around, seeing a defeated San walk towards his group. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

**

Later that night, you were dressed and ready to head to the club. You were so excited to go and dance with your boys, drink, let loose and have a great time.

“Ready?” Felix asks as he walks into the room.

“Ready.” You smile, walking towards him. He lets out a whistle as he grabs your hand to twirl you around.

“Wow.” He gasps. “Hyunjin.” He yells. “Come here.”

Hyunjin walks into the room wearing a black dress shirt tucked into his black pants, same as Felix and they both looked so fucking good.

“Jesus.” Hyunjin grins. “So sexy.”

You can feel the blush creep across your face as you giggle at the compliments. “Let's go, you two.” You say, grabbing both their hands to drag them out of the room.

“You sure?” Felix asks as you tug him along. “We could just stay home? There's a few things I can think of to do.” He smirks.

“Yeah, it would be a lot more fun.” Hyunjin agrees.

“We're going to celebrate you two. Shush.” You giggle.

The club is packed. You walk in feeling the bass pound through the floors, the smell of sex and sweat fills the air. The three of you make your way to the bar, ordering a few different shots. This felt nice, being out. It felt normal which you loved. After some shots you three made your way to the dance floor. Hyunjin behind you, Felix in front. You hadn't drank in so long that it didn't take very long for the booze to kick in. You stuck out your ass, grinding it onto Hyunjins crotch while Felix was between your legs, his body pressed up against yours. The whole thing was extremely hot, and it made you even hornier than you were to begin with. the feeling of both their hands roaming your body, Hyunjin's breath on the back of your neck, Felix's breath on your ear. You'd let them fuck you right there.

After an hour of dancing, you excused yourself to the bathroom. You could feel your pussy was dripping wet for them and you couldn't wait to get home tonight. You come out of the bathroom, searching for Felix and Hyunjin. You look around and finally see them standing side by side talking to the same girl that had been at the races. You could see her laughing, throwing her head back as she touched both their arms. That pissed you off. You make your way to the bar, sitting on a stool, ordering a drink. You barely notice the man sitting beside you. The bartender sets a drink and a shot beside you. You grab the shot, turning around in your seat to watch your boyfriends with Jennie. You wondered how long it would take for them to notice you hadn't come back yet or if at all. Maybe they were so immersed in the conversation with Jennie they completely forgot they had a girlfriend. You take your shot, setting it down on the bar before grabbing your drink and turning back around again. You're sipping on your drink. And sipping. And sipping. Until you're done and they still haven't noticed. You turn around, ordering another shot and another drink, turning back again to watch them.

You take your shot and before you can turn to grab your drink, there's a man standing in front of you.

“Hello.” He smiles.

“Hi.” You say back staying straight faced.

“Are you here alone?” He asks.

“No.” You deadpan, looking around him to see Hyunjin and Felix.

“I'm talking to you.” He laughs, moving in front of your view.

“And I'm not interested.” You snap, looking up at him.

“Woah, calm down.” He laughs. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“I have a drink.” You sigh.

“Wanna dance?” He asks.

“No.” You say. “Go away please.”

“Ah, just come dance.” He laughs again, grabbing your wrist.

“Bro.” The guy next to you snaps. “She's not fucking interested. Move along.”

“Okay, bro. Is she your girlfriend?” The man asks.

“Doesn't matter if she is or not. She doesn't want to dance, she doesn't want a drink, move the fuck on.” He says, removing his hand from your wrist. The guy scoffs before leaving you alone finally.

“Thank you.” You say looking over at the man who helped you. You squint your eyes, looking a little closer. “Jinyoung?” You ask.

“Yeah?” He responds, looking at you funny.

“You were at the races.” You say. “You raced against Hyunjin and Felix.”

“Yeah I did. Oh! You're their girlfriend. That's right. I remember you.” He says.

“Thank you again for helping me. I appreciate it.” You smile.

“It's no problem. Where are those two anyways?” He asks.

You nod your head in their direction. They were still talking to Jennie and you were fucking annoyed.

“Ah.”

“I've been waiting to see how long it takes for them to notice I haven't come back from the bathroom. And this is embarrassing.” You sigh.

“That sucks. She's such a fucking cunt too.” He laughs. “She puts on a good show of being nice and flirty.”

“I don't want to be jealous. But I am. Cunt or not, they haven't even turned their heads to even peek for me. I'd love to make them jealous.” You laugh.

“Do you wanna dance?” Jinyoung asks. “I'm all for helping out.”

You grin at him as you nod your head. Maybe they won't forget about you to flirt with someone else next time. Jinyoung grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor as you quickly chug your drink. He pulls you past Felix and Hyunjin, you turn your drunk head to smile at them, sticking your tongue out as you get to the front of the dance floor with Jinyoung. In their line of vision perfectly. He places his hands on your waist as you dance with him, moving your hips seductively. You can see the instant anger plastered across both their faces. You weren't sure if it was because you were dancing with another man, or because that man was Jinyoung. You continue to dance, giggling as you stick up your middle finger to them both, making them both slightly laugh. They walk away from Jennie, who turns to watch them, looking offended that they just left in the middle of a conversation.

“Y/N.” Felix says, using his deep voice.

“What?” You ask, still dancing.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Dancing.”

“Why are you dancing with another man?” Hyunjin asks.

“Why are you two flirting with Jennie?” You ask, now glaring at them both. “I've been out of the bathroom for 45 minutes, watching you two, neither of you wondered where I was?” You scoff.

“Baby..” Felix starts.

“Don't baby me.” You scoff. “Jinyoung here saved me when some creepy man was trying to force me to dance with him. Where were you two?” You slur.

You turn around facing Jinyoung who had been silent the whole time you'd been talking to them. You keep dancing, only for a second before Hyunjin pulls you away from Jinyoung. You turn to look at him, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as you giggle at the angry men guiding you away. He just laughs.

“I don't need help.” You say, pulling your hands away from them.

“I didn't like that.” Felix says as the three of you get outside. “Seeing you with him.”

“I could have beat the shit out of him.” Hyunjin says.

You say nothing, you just keep walking, both men behind you. You can hear them whispering but you can't hear what they're whispering about. Until you're grabbed, and dragged into an alley. You're pinned against the wall as an angry Hyunjin and Felix stare at you.

“Did you like it?” Hyunjin asks. “the feeling of his hands all over your body.”

“Did you feel his cock on your ass as you grinded with him?” Felix asks.

“Yes and yes.” You say, smirking. You wanted to rile them up. You loved it when they were jealous. You push them out of the way, continuing to stumble your way back to the house. You looked down and then back up, and Felix stood in front of you. He swiftly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He walks the opposite way you were and sets you down inside a car.

You had forgotten they drove here. Felix slides in the backseat with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up with your elbows as Felix lays semi on top of you. Hyunjin races to the house.

“I don't ever want to see another guy's hands on you ever again.” He whispers in your ear. Hyunjin pulls up to the house in record time, helping you out of the car as Felix gets out on the other side. Hyunjin pins you against the car.

“You're gonna be in big trouble if you ever do that again.” He says, placing kisses down your neck.

“Am I not in trouble now?” You gasp.

“Oh you are.” Felix smirks.

“Well so are you guys.” You say, walking towards the house.

Once you're inside, Felix slams the front door shut. The house is quiet. Everyone else is still out. You slide off your shoes, walking towards the kitchen. Felix grabs you, turning you around, pressing you against the wall. He smashes his lips to yours, kissing you harshly as he pulls up your dress. Hyunjin comes over to the two of you, peppering kisses over your neck as Felix pulls down your panties.

“After tonight, you're not going to want any other man to touch you.” Felix grunts.

This is what you had desperate been waiting for, and you couldn't fucking wait.

[gingerjunhan]

dirty little secret (pt.2) - kwak jiseok

☆彡 Part to is now here!! Sorry it took so long- I had to finish a year of college! Haha!

word count: 1,723 | pronouns used: none | genre: slight angst, then suggestive, then fluffy, college!au | cws: toxic relationship kinda, swearing, drinking, drugs (mentioned), make out session, lmk if I missed something!!

part one here!!

Since dumping Jiseok, you’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion that you live on a college campus- thus meaning that you see him everywhere. He was in your organic chemistry class, he was on sports teams, and that stupid band he and his buddies made just had to be good. It made you furious- of course he had to be a campus celebrity. Everybody knew him, and of course, they all thought he was the sweetest guy ever. It was infuriating.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Your friend urged, “You’ve been hung up on this all week!”

“So?” You rolled your eyes, “Am I not allowed to hate the campus golden boy?” You were strewn across your friend's dorm room bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to forget the events of the week.

“You can be mad all you want,” your friend continued, “but you cannot let it ruin our evening.”

You pulled your head up. “What do you mean?”

Your friend looked back at you, giving you a cheeky smile. “I got invited to a party and I was told I could bring a friend if I wanted.”

“No way,” you shake your head, letting it fall back down again. “You know that isn’t my scene.”

“Come on, (Y/N)...” your friend whined. “So a guy was an asshole to you one time? So what!? There will always be more boys, so why don’t we go out tonight and try to find you someone better?”

Despite your reluctance to spend your evening in a room full of drunken strangers, finding a new man to occupy your thoughts for a while didn’t sound like a bad idea.

You let out a groan of compliance, “Fine… I’ll come along.”

Your friend let out a cheer and pulled you up off the mattress, tearing you from your state of sulking. “Come on! Let’s find you an outfit!”

☆

The party was in full swing by the time you had arrived. “Fashionably late,” as your friend said. Once inside, your friend gave you a smile.

“Do you want a drink?” They asked with a giggle.

You gave it some thought. Did you normally drink? No. Has this week been a normal week? Also no. “Sure,” you reply with a small smile. Your friend beams at you, offering up a quick “I’ll be right back!” before disappearing into the crowd.

You weren’t always the most social, and you can count the number of parties you’ve been to on one hand. So now that you were left to your own devices, you did what many would argue you do best: awkwardly wait around and really say much. You kept to yourself, finding an interest in the wood grain of the floor, trying to decide what sort of alcohol had been spilled a few feet away from you based on its color. However, your trance of trying to decipher the alcohol content of the floor was rudely interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Well I never assumed you’d be a partier.”

Fuck. You turned around to see Jiseok behind you with a smug look on his face and a drink in his hand.

“And I thought I’d never have to talk to you again,” you say sarcastically. “Looks like tonight is full of surprises.” You rolled your eyes and turned around, planning on making your way to the kitchen to find your friend.

Once inside the kitchen, your friend thrusts a drink into your hand and looks at you wide eyed. “Were you just talking with Jiseok?”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “He cracked some stupid joke about me being here.” You took a sip of your drink. It tasted like lemonade.

“Well what did you say?” Your friend asked.

“Something to get him to shut up, hopefully,” a voice chimed in from a few feet away before you could answer. The two of you turned to see Jungsu leaning on a counter in the kitchen, with Gunil sitting on the counter next to him hoarding a bowl of chips from the rest of the party-goers.

“What do you mean?” You asked them.

“He won’t stop talking about you,” Gunil spoke, his mouth full of chips. Jungsu grimaced at his poor manners.

“Ever since you dumped him he’s done nothing but nope around at rehearsals,” Jungsu added.

“You knew we were dating?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “But not until it was too late. He showed up really upset the one day, so when we asked what was wrong he told us the story. We all told him that it was his fault.” Gunil nodded next to him. You had only spoken to Jungsu once- maybe twice- so you were shocked by his honesty.

“Besides,” Gunil chimed in. “You’re pretty hot, so that’s his loss.” Gunil laughed loudly before eating some more chips. Jungsu rolled his eyes.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” he sighed. “I’m his babysitter for the evening and I accidentally let him have one too many.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Between Gunil’s drunken banter, and knowing that Jiseok also wanted you back, you had to admit that you were starting to feel a little better. “You really blamed him?” You asked.

“Oh yeah,” the two boys said in unison.

“I don’t really know why he thought we would care who he dates. It’s not really our business,” Jungsu said simply. “We shouldn’t determine who he dates.”

“Well Jooyeon didn’t seem too fond of me,” you say as you take another sip of your drink. Jungsu laughed dryly.

“Honestly, Jooyeon is high most of the time. He claims it’s to “mellow him out,” but I think it just makes him more of a bitch,” he snorted. “Whatever he said or did to you wasn’t intentional. Promise.”

You turn to your friend (who you now notice has been eyeing Jungsu up the whole time) and shrug, silently asking what your next move should be.

“Don’t look at me,” they add quickly. “This is all up to you- but definitely give it some thought. Would you really want to date a guy who was too embarrassed to tell people you were together?”

You sigh. While, yes, that is a good point, you really can’t help but feel drawn to Jiseok again. Like a moth to a flame, you felt a little too willing to risk getting burnt again. So, despite your better judgment, you left the kitchen to go find Jiseok again.

When you found him, Jiseok was reffing a game of beer pong. Next to him, was Jooyeon who, low and behold, was high as a kite.

“Jiseok,” you called from the doorway. He instinctively looked in your direction, and you waved him over with a stern look on your face. “We need to talk.” Jooyeon gave him an annoyed look, but after some whispered words between them, Jiseok made his way over to you.

“What’s up?” He asked, voice soft compared to the noise of the room.

“I want an apology,” you stated simply. “A real one.”

He paused, looking in your eyes and clearly trying to collect himself. Maybe you were imagining it, but for a split second he looked genuinely upset. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

You shook your head, “Fine.” Jiseok led you through the house and into a bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it. He took a deep breath before looking you in the eye again.

“(Y/N),” he began, “Listen… I… I’m so sorry,” he said with a twinge of sadness in his voice. “Really, I am. What I did was wrong and unfair to you. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way.”

“Then why did you do it?” You ask. “Why make me feel bad for being myself?”

Your words seem to strike a chord in him, and he’s at a loss for words for a second. “I… I don’t know,” he admits softly. “I’m sorry.” A sigh escapes his lips after you don’t respond. He looks to the floor. “Can I make it up to you? Please?”

“Make it up to me?” You ask. “How?”

The small twinge of sadness that you saw mere moments ago in Jiseok’s eyes was replaced with something else now. Something darker that you weren’t quite sure you’ve ever seen before. He took a step closer to you, placing a hand on your hip.

“Please,” he mumbled as he leaned closer to you, the scent of alcohol lingering in his breath, “Let me fix this.” Against both of your better judgements, Jiseok’s lips land on yours, with one hot kiss slowly transforming into many. His breath mixed with yours as your lips chased each other’s. The lemonade taste that lingered on your tongue soon mixed with whatever was on his. “I wanna take you out again,” he sighed between kisses. “Wanna let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You sighed into his mouth, now grasping at his shoulders. “You mean it this time?”

He pulls away from your mouth, looking you in the eye. He takes a deep breath before speaking, and you choose to ignore the wandering thought in the back of your head that wants to know if he’s just catching his breath or buying time before he answers. He begins to nod slowly. “Yeah,” he says breathlessly, blinking at you. “I’m serious.”

You smile, about to lean in again when the doorknob to the bathroom jiggles.

“We’re busy!” Jiseok calls, leaning in and capturing your lips again.

“C’mon man! I gotta take a piss!”

Jiseok pulled away for you with a sigh at the sound of Gunil’s drunken voice. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh. Jiseok took his hands off of you, making his way to the door and unlocking it. “Great timing,” he said sarcastically.

“Thanks,” Gunil sneered back. “Now move.” He shoved past him, making his way into the bathroom, which you quickly took as an indication to get out. Once outside, you and Jiseok turned to each other, and laughter bubbles out of your chest once again. Jiseok shook his head, wrapping an arm around your waist and heading back out to the main rooms of the party.

“I’m really surprised you just let me kiss you like that,” Jiseok marveled.

“What did I tell you?” You smiled over at him, “tonight is full of surprises.”

taglist: @mon2sunjinsuver , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , @odesonnets , @weluvjeong , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (14/?)

Word Count: 3,013 Words

Rating: Explicit (SMUT)

Chapter 14

"I'm starving, darling

Let me put my lips to something

Let me wrap my teeth around the world

Start carving, darling

I wanna smell the dinner cooking

I wanna feel the edges start to burn..."

- Hozier

“Why was I dismissed!?” Alastor complained, wondering aloud – between breathy panting.

Lucifer panted with him, claws raking against bare skin. “Hm…probably because you succeeded at being a ‘total and complete ass’…

Alastor chuckled; and Lucifer silenced him with a rough kiss – his tongue pushing into his mouth.

They had returned to Alastor’s room, breaking back into the Sazerac that Alastor still had and possibly over-indulging themselves with it a bit…

Loosened up by the alcohol and still feeling giddy from each other’s morning antics; they found themselves wrapped together – naked in Alastor’s bed.

Alastor laid on his back, ears tilted; Lucifer stretched across him and kissing him with heated fervor. Feeling pleasantly buzzed from their drinking; they had gotten a little rough with each other. Alastor’s back was covered in bleeding scratches and cuts from Lucifer’s claws – streaks of stark red blood melting into the sheets. Vibrantly colored hickeys – one oozing and bleeding golden ichor where Alastor had inadvertently bit too deeply– peppered Lucifer’s neck.

Lucifer released Alastor’s mouth; moving down Alastor’s chest and teasing at a nipple with his tongue. Alastor tilted his head; his own tongue swiping wetly against Lucifer’s bleeding skin where the angel’s golden blood seeped from the healing punctures, just below the line of his jaw. Alastor groaned at the taste; pressing his face closer and softly sucking.

Sharply tilting his neck away from Alastor; Lucifer lifted his head.

“You keep doing that and I’ll never get you up. Now, please try to stay at least somewhat sober for me a little while longer…” He leant back down, taking a lick at Alastor’s nipple just as Alastor darted back in, nipping him sharply.

“Listen.” Lucifer grabbed him by the chin; pulling his face close to his. “Behave or I’ll put that mouth of yours to a better use.” He tilted his hip; pressing his erection into Alastor’s abdomen for emphasis.

“Can’t say that I have much experience in that…area. Might be better to explore that when I have more…self-restraint.” Alastor slid his tongue across pointed teeth; smiling wickedly.

“Wait. What?” Lucifer lifted himself up; stunned out of the mood.

“What, what?” Alastor tilted his head, uncomprehending Lucifer’s sudden change.

“You’ve really never sucked someone off?”    

“No…I can’t say that I have.” Alastor told him. “I’ve never really been on the giving or the receiving end of that particular…act.”

“WHAT!?” Lucifer sat up fully now, eyes wide in shock.

“I’m not understanding the significance to any of this.” Alastor told him, honestly.

“You’ve never engaged in fellatio!? Ever? Like…at all!?”

“No…is it so important that I have?” Alastor asked him, feeling a little annoyed now.

“I just – I…” Lucifer’s brain was short-circuiting. “Just…why!? Why haven’t you!?”

“It just always seemed….unnecessary.” Alastor tried to explain. “Also, it doesn’t strike me as something particularly hygienic.”

“Really…you’ll fuck me in the ass with your tongue but god-forbid you get a dick in the mouth.”

“I never said I wouldn’t, just that I never have…”

“Ok, we’re doing this. Right now.” Lucifer shifted himself, moving down.

“Whoa! Wait, hold on!”

“This will be better with you lying down, anyways. I don’t want you standing and then falling on me because it’s your first time and it’ll give me more leverage…”

Lucifer crawled himself between Alastor’s legs; his ears flattening as he looked away.

“Really, Lucifer…must we?”

Lucifer had laid himself down and was working on adjusting Alastor’s legs out of his way. He stopped what he was doing and looked seriously at Alastor:

“No. Absolutely not, if you’re really that uncomfortable by it. I’ll be honest, Al, not everyone enjoys this kind of oral stimulation, but….I’d like to try. I promise you, it’s something I really like doing and I really think you might find some real enjoyment from it yourself. I’ll stop anytime you tell me to or we can just forget the whole thing.” He waited; not moving until he knew what Alastor’s decision would be.

Sighing, Alastor lifted a hand – gesturing for him to proceed.

Lucifer gave him a small smirk before turning his attention fully toward his task.

Laying one hand to Alastor’s inner thigh; he took Alastor’s flaccid penis in the other, curling it to the side and began softly kissing at the soft and sliding skin.

Alastor took a deep breath; letting it out slowly – trying to imagine that he was anywhere but here. 

Lucifer worked all along his limp shaft, moving and curling it in the other direction as he softly kissed and nipped at the appendage.

Alastor was just thinking that: this might just be what it was all cracked up to be when Lucifer lifted the member; leaned in and took a deliberately slow and steady stroke of his tongue across the soft underside – going from base to tip.

Blood pooled deep in Alastor’s belly, sliding downward. A soft flush touching his face; his member now giving a soft twitch at the attention it was receiving.

Seemingly not noticing the change; Lucifer focused on what he was doing. Kneading the slowly firming muscle in his hand; he licked and lapped his tongue all along the base and worked his way upward – giving special attention to just at the tip of it before working his way back slowly downward.

Alastor’s heart rate climbed and he found a hitch in his breathing. He was very nearly erect now and he was just realizing he may have miscalculated the potentiality of this particular activity when Lucifer took him wholly and fully into his mouth.

A soft hiss of pleasure; and Alastor lifted his hips. Lucifer firmly pushed down on both inner thighs now; pressing him down – encouraging him to stay still. Alastor leaned back at the stimulation he was feeling; his flush deepening across his face and chest.

The warmth and sliding wetness that he was now feeling, up and down his length was…exquisite and he silently berated himself for having not considered it before.

Gentle vibrations sent tingles through his spine, and he realized that Lucifer was fucking laughing at him with his dick in his mouth…the King’s eyes glinting up at him with a coy grin spread into the corners of his face.

Oh, don’t get cocky you little piece of-

Lucifer pressed his teeth to Alastor’s sensitive skin and slowly slid himself down. Alastor threw his head back with a gasp and Lucifer’s soft chuckling continued. Pausing, Lucifer gently bit the swollen muscle – pressing it firmly between his teeth before sliding back upward. Without removing his mouth; Lucifer lifted his teeth and teased Alastor’s tip with his tongue – flicking and wrapping it all around the head of it and gently pressing it into the slit.

Alastor’s fingers were curling into the sheets; and he was squirming beneath Lucifer – wanting to thrust himself sharply upward.

Gripping Alastor by the base with one hand; Lucifer angled himself and Alastor’s penis so that he was moving his head up and down – pressing the head of the engorged and seeping appendage into the firm ribbed ridges at the roof of his mouth. An involuntary and lust-filled noise escaped Alastor and he felt himself tightening in Lucifer’s hand and mouth. He was shaking from the approaching climax and it was tightening his throat.

“Luci!” Alastor managed -  “I – I’m” Gasping.

Lucifer answered him by gripping him tighter; tilting his head and pressing his tongue firmly to the underpart of Alastor’s penis – pushing it tighter against this palate. He felt the member ready and threatening to release and he sucked softly – sending Alastor completely over the edge.

Cum rushed between his teeth, running over his tongue. Alastor made to pull away but Lucifer held him there; swallowing. As Alastor’s penis relaxed; Lucifer softly licked and sucked it clean before letting it go - limply - from his mouth.

Alastor was brilliantly flushed and sweating; eyes wide. His ears were making erratic movements and he was trembling slightly.

Lucifer propped up an elbow; smirking at him wickedly.

“Told you would like it.” He sang.

That…was… Alastor could not form the thoughts.

Lucifer laughed; sitting himself up now; his own erection standing at attention.

“And, I told you that I liked it.” He affirmed.

“Are you open to the idea of….reciprocation?” Alastor asked him.

“Of course.” Lucifer grinned at him.

“Edge of the bed, then.” Alastor told him, getting up and moving gingerly from off of the bed – feeling lightheaded.

Lucifer did as he was told and Alastor knelt down, facing him.

“Legs over my shoulders.” Alastor instructed.

Moving, Alastor helped him into position – sliding the King closer to him.

“Forgive me my…inexperience with this. You may instruct me if what I do is not to your liking.” Alastor told him, leaning in.

“Eh, it’s pretty straight forward.” Lucifer slid a hand through the soft hairs at the top of his head, leaning back.

“I like to think...that I’m a fast learner.” Alastor breathed against his skin; tilting Lucifer’s swollen member upward.

Lucifer was about to make some snarky comment when Alastor’s slick wet tongue slid between his balls; flicking them gently. His hand softly found Lucifer’s length; his thumb swirling pre-cum all along the tip of it.

“I-“ Lucifer’s breathing hitched sharply. “I didn’t teach you that.”

“Hmm….” Alastor pulled back slightly; his warm breath tickling Lucifer’s slick and heated skin. “I can also be quite creative…” He pressed his face in again; wrapping his long and lengthening tongue firmly around Lucifer’s base and squeezing.

Lucifer’s hip gave a sharp jut and he groaned softly.

Alastor’s smile widened at the response. Uncoiling and re-coiling his lengthening tongue; he twisted it around Lucifer’s shaft. Soft barbs from its slick surface pressed into the sensitive skin and stimulated Lucifer in a delicious way.

“Oh, fuck…Al…” His hand tightened in Alastor’s hair, forming a fist, claws digging into the mattress.

Alastor gently moved his head and his tongue; pushing and pulling Lucifer deeper and deeper into a heightened state of arousal.

Lucifer moaned with a whining and intense need and Alastor’s tail swished quickly back and forth at the sound of it.

Alastor felt himself slipping below some surface; falling into the depths of some new and exciting space. He was finding pleasure in satisfying the needs of his King; something he hadn’t fully discovered or considered in himself before. It both frightened and exhilarated him; the sheer intensity of it… He needed Lucifer to come apart at the seams… just for him.

Lucifer was shaking and sweating. Alastor tightened his tongue on the angel and slowly pulled Lucifer’s remarkable length into his mouth. Gently detaching the barbs from the skin; Alastor swirled his tongue all along the shaft and head in his mouth – groaning at the taste and feel of it.

Lucifer’s hips bucked beneath him and Alastor growled to him in an approving way. Lucifer bent himself backward; gasping at the overwhelming stimulation that he was feeling. The places that Alastor’s barbed tongue had been still sharply tingled and sent jolts of pleasure cascading all throughout his body.

Remembering just how Lucifer had done it; Alastor felt the King’s penis curve and tighten in his mouth. Softly, he began sucking and it wasn’t long before cum was filling up his mouth; sliding over his long and winding tongue.

Alastor released him and Lucifer fell back, gasping and shaking. The sinner watched him for a moment with heavy-lidded eyes before leaning and crawling over him; hovering just over his abdomen.

Lucifer; still gasping tilted his head – watching Alastor.

The demon grinned back at him wickedly before opening his mouth, tilting his tongue and letting a warm mixture of spit and cum dribble from his mouth and onto Lucifer’s belly.

“Your seed…my King.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, Alastor had moved them to the bayou – wrapping them in shadows and setting them in a small grassy clearing. Lucifer dozed quietly against him; naked and covered by the blanket Alastor had summoned for both of them.

Alastor laid on his back; claws absently threading through the sleeping angel’s hair as he stared blankly into that otherworldly night sky, eyes lost in the far-off shine of twinkling stars and the soft dancing glow of fireflies.

Lucifer stirred and Alastor dropped his hand away; laying it across the King’s bare shoulder. Lucifer turned his head; looking up at the brilliant night sky with Alastor.

“You know…I wouldn’t be very opposed to loosening the…stringencies of our deal.” Alastor told him, quietly. “Make it so that you don’t have to receive a direct invitation from me or from Charlie just to be able to come to the hotel.”

Lucifer laughed lightly. “I appreciate the sentiment but it really wouldn’t make much of a difference…not with Lilith’s deal still in place.”

“I suppose…I shouldn’t find that too surprising, all things considered.” Alastor admitted.

“It’s a bit of a bitch…not really getting to ever go anywhere without someone calling on or needing me for something specific.”

“Surely, your deal with Lilith hasn’t been that restrictive; you always could-“ Lucifer looked at Alastor just then and Alastor suddenly realized…

“You…can’t go anywhere…”  Alastor’s eyes locking with Lucifer’s.

Lucifer shrugged. “Lilith’s deal prevents me from getting involved in the hotel or really anything that involves Hell with Heaven; her deal was specifically made to prevent me from making a mistake and letting anyone know what we were up to. I don’t think she fully intended it but the restrictions keep me from ever being able to leave my current place of residence unless I am specifically asked to leave by you or by Charlie.”

Alastor didn’t say anything, this new bit of information slowly soaking itself in.

 “It’s why I asked for Charlie to go speak with Adam for that initial meeting to begin with…and, it’s why I can only come and stay here if she - or you - needs or wants me to.” 

“Wait, so who’s ruling over all of Hell if you can’t actually ever leave?”

“Oh, I can leave if it’s absolutely necessary...there’s been a few times I’ve had to attend something having to do with the other seven deadly sins but, it can’t be just something on a whim and I’m still restricted by what I can say or do when I’m away…”

“That seems…terribly problematic for you.”

“It is…but, these things tend to happen when you’re a man with many chains.”

Alastor said nothing to this, but he wondered if this was Lucifer’s way of trying to get him to loosen the cards he himself was holding tightly to his chest: to reveal to him that, Alastor too, was caught in a web of binding links – holding him to multiple agreements; one most in particular, shackling him tightly to the one who currently held his soul. But then, Alastor realized; he more than likely was just feeling a bit paranoid.

 “I am sorry…that you’ve had to sacrifice so much.” Alastor told him.

Lucifer laughed.

“What?” Alastor demanded; agitated that Lucifer was finding humor in his rare moment of sincerity.

“If I’ve got you feeling sorry for me, then I truly am in a sad state.” His chuckling continued.

Alastor huffed at that; eyes trailing back to the stars.

Laughter still heavy in his voice, Lucifer asked him: “So…you’re officially and truly a cocksucker now. How does it feel?” He teased.

“Hm…the deflowerment wasn’t nearly as degrading or disappointing as I had imagined it could be.”

Lucifer snickered.

“How was my performance?”

“Oh, the deer can suck cock, believe you me.” Lucifer cackled and Alastor felt the corners of his smile twitching; threatening to crack open wider. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were a fast learner, goddamn. I am curious to know though…” Lucifer tilted his head, watching Alastor’s response. “What got you into such a subspace?”

Alastor’s ears moved, tweaking slightly in his confusion. “I’m sorry, a what?”

“Subspace? A submissive headspace…?”

Alastor looked at him blankly.

Wow, he really has no idea…

“When you were…well…you kind of zoned out there for a minute.” Lucifer was trying to explain.

“Yes…I-“ Alastor’s ears leant back slightly and he felt a soft heat rising in his face, remembering. “I suppose I was enjoying myself...I thought that was normally your experience with it as well.”

“Mmm, not quite…” Lucifer was thinking. “I enjoy it, I really do but…” He frowned. He had never had to explain the basic concept of BDSM to someone before; and to someone like Alastor: older, a little set in his ways, touch-averse and only just beginning to explore and actually enjoy sex…it felt like it might be a delicate topic to broach.

Alastor patiently waited for him to continue, his curiosity more than just a little peaked.

“When you enter a subspace, you kind of feel like you’re going into a trance. It’s euphoric and an out-of-body type of feeling…” Lucifer explained. “Generally when you’re a submissive; you give up some level of…control to a partner. This can be anywhere from something as small as wanting to please that partner to involving something more…surrendering; like bondage or discipline. I’m sure you’ve heard of BDSM, what do you know about it?.”

“Chains, whips, and a lot of pain come to mind…can’t say I have much interest in delving into that territory much further.”

“Yeah, that’s generally the concept that’s portrayed with it but, like many things, there’s more to it than that.” Lucifer told him. “I’m not saying it’s something you definitely would be into, nor have I personally pursued a role in it with a full commitment …but, it could be worth exploring.”

“You’ve had experience with this…subspace, before?” Alastor asked him, wanting to understand this concept more.

“Oh, yes, I have.” Lucifer told him. “It takes a little more roleplaying to get me into the right mindset for it usually, but I’ve definitely experienced it. It’s…quite nice.”

“Hmm.” Alastor hummed agreeably, remembering that slow and pleasurable sinking feeling – consumed in a heated and lust-filled haze at the idea of being completely and sensuously subservient.

“Like I said.” Lucifer told him. “It could be worth exploring.”

[droughtofapathy]

"Theatre critic circles are in desperate need of diverse voices, and these old white men cannot be the only arbiters of good and bad in the industry," and "it's not the feminist take you think it is to dismiss a show's negative reviews just because it's men who are raising the valid critiques you yourself see but can and will overlook because you're attached to a show you say is 'written for the girls, gays, etc." are two viewpoints that can coexist.

It might be easy to dismiss a male critic's pan of a show because it's meant for women. That's not feminism. That's gender essentialism. The show may be written for a queer female audience, but should queer women not also demand quality and cohesion in a show's book and score, or must we always be satisfied by the crumbs we are given? We should not be arguing that just because a show is geared towards a female audience, it must be above critique, or that the real and present flaws in the book and score are only important to men, and all women will like it anyway.

As a queer woman of color, had I been a critic, my review would have been mixed to negative just like all those men you dismissed because the problems do not change from a gendered perspective. The book is weak. The score disjointed. The protagonist watered-down. It's like the writers set out to say "it's a queer love story," but didn't do the work to delve any deeper, and hoped to carry the show on that alone. Queer stories deserve to be held to the same high standard as any other show, and boiling it down to "it's queer so you have to like it and critics are homophobic" is a ridiculous, immature, reductive statement.

[lucy-ghoul]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip