#decided to watch it and was like oh fuck these people are humorous and the next minute : THEY ALSO SING?? OMG JACKPOT

[slaychweta]

i’m a carat now 😍😍

#it’s been a LONGG time since i’ve properly stanned a group #svt were my casuals lmaoo because i used to binge going svt #like i came across an episode #decided to watch it and was like oh fuck these people are humorous and the next minute : THEY ALSO SING?? OMG JACKPOT #and plus there were so many moots who were armycarats or caratzens #speaking of which i used to be jealous of carat multis because theyd get crumbs with other grps all the DAMN time #okay we digeressing #so there was this desi moot of mine who’s a carat and a horangdan plss their username was such a slay #and they would always talk about soonyoung #and then i see hansol #and joshua #I FELL IN LOVEEEEEEE #pls #when i first saw them i thought they were soooo handsome #UGH #i loved watching their interviews and crack vids #my biggest regret is not stanning these gods earlier #also cheol….. #ZAMN PAPI #welp here we are #*thotsnprayers

[chimielie]

yeah, you might want me to drop dead (but i don't even care)

summary: Atsumu x F!Reader. atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: he thinks you're hot when you're angry. you would categorize your relationship with atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 

word count: 2k

cw: miya atsumu's degradation kink (it's still sfw he's just not subtle), suggestive at the end

a/n: another resurrected fic from the drafts. walk him like a dog, bitch, walk him like a dog

Miya Atsumu was a player known for his thirst for blood. Like his brother, who termed the all-consuming need to dominate their opponent hunger, he relished in complete fucking annihilation. He was hardly soft off the court, too: few of his peers could withstand his cutting humor, his teammates couldn’t understand how he hadn’t scared off his fan club, and he had crushed a few hearts beneath his heel in his time.

He’d met his match in the natural enemy of heartbreakers: his university’s resident maneater.

“Hey!” Atsumu calls your name, lengthening his stride to catch up to you. You grimace—he can barely see your side profile now, but oh, you’re slowing down so he can catch up. Unusually considerate.

Oh, no, there’s just a clog in the artery of the crowded hallway, halting your escape.

“Hi,” he sing-songs, stretching the word out several extra syllables. 

“Good morning, Atsumu,” you say tightly, drawing up your shoulders so your arm won’t brush his bicep in the limited space. “I was hoping you’d died, since you weren’t in lecture this morning. Better yet, maybe someone buried you alive last night and you hadn’t dug your way out yet.”

“You went with the option that doesn’t kill me! You care,” he says happily, and takes a moment to bask in it. “I was actually at a volleyball game, you should come to one sometime, I’m pretty good at it—”

“I’d rather walk in traffic, ‘Tsumu,” you shoot him a wide smile that makes his knees feel weak and wobbly and shove your way straight through the crowd of people, leaving only an uncaring ‘Scuse me! in your wake. 

A lot of people would categorize your relationship with Atsumu as complicated. Atsumu is not one of those people.

Atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: many moons ago, you and he had been in a few of the same classes and shared some mutual friends—mere acquaintances. He hadn’t known you very well. In fact, he’d thought you were cute, which he now knows you aren’t. A few minor catastrophes he wasn’t privy to later, you had come to verbal blows with some loser in the middle of the quad. You’d later found it rather embarrassing. Watching you eviscerate him, though, Atsumu had experienced a fear like never before. If he was bloodthirsty, you bathed in ichor. 

He would always remember the look on your face as you dealt the final blow and turned away, walking with a straight back right toward him.

Atsumu, who had never seen anything quite like the look of controlled rage on your face as you took that man apart. Who wasn’t sure why the sound of you doing your damnedest to instigate a fight made him shiver despite being all too warm inside. Who was looking up at you from his seat like a puppy, desperate to see you don your war paint again.

You walked past him, because of course you did. You weren’t pulled by the same magnetic force he was, focused on him like he was suddenly fixated on you. You were barely acquainted with him and obviously going to your friends for moral support and ice cream and whatever it was people did after one of them basically tarred and feathered someone in the town square. He was merely a bystander along the path you strode.

Of course, the very action of totally ignoring his existence cinched it: he was hooked.

You would categorize your relationship with Atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 

You’d tried to ignore him. He was persistent, though, and he just pushed and pushed and pushed until he crossed the line. It was exhausting.

Except that you kind of loved fighting with him.

You couldn’t help the adrenaline rush it gave you, the way he seemed to light a fire inside you no one else could and keep it burning hot. It was almost like a release to debate him, the way some people boxed or listened to heavy metal to destress. The feeling of victory never failed to put a sparkle in your eye and a cocky smirk on your lips; sometimes, you felt like he was stepping back and letting you win.

This continued in perfectly pleasant vicious and sometimes bloody antagonism for the course of forever until a few months ago, when Atsumu had begun the new and inimitable torture of flirting with you. It was horrible and it was weird and you had no idea what kind of mind game he was playing, but you certainly intended to find out. 

Atsumu, for his part, had recently realized that he likes it when you smile so much more than when you scowl. He likes it when you flutter your lashes instead of staring flatly into his soul, hoping to yank it out and set it aflame. He likes it when you say nice things to him, which has only happened once, but was very nearly a second sexual awakening and thus monumental.

He does not like it when other men flirt with you.

“Your pencil is broken,” Osamu notes, glancing down at his brother’s clenched fist. “You’ll get splinters.”

“What? Oh,” says Atsumu distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll do it later.”

Your laugh rings across the library, the warm glow of a fireplace instead of the burning fires of hell you share with Atsumu. His grip slackens, and his twin takes the opportunity to prise the pulverized writing utensil out of his hand. This kindness goes unnoticed as the guy, that’s how Atsumu’s thinking the word in his mind, low and mocking, guy, says something to you that makes him instinctively kick Osamu in the shin.

“Ow! Douchebag!”

“Sorry, reflex,” Atsumu apologizes.

“Do you want to go with me?” Asks the dickhead you’re talking to.

“To ice cream? Sure,” you reply, and you don’t even sound like you’re being sarcastic. What the fuck? There’s a long pause while the jagoff scuffs his shoe against the floor, a red flush coming over his face while you stare slightly past him with your trademark stare. But your lips are slightly turned up.

The expression haunts Atsumu on his walk back. Your smile was so pretty, sweet and soft. You never smile at him except mockingly. 

“At the risk of sounding like I care,” Suna says. “Are you okay?” 

“If I killed someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Atsumu says, staring straight ahead.

“No,” Osamu says, “he’s finding out about human emotions and he’s coping very badly.”

Atsumu is ignoring you. As quickly as his interest (his desire to piss you off) had flared up, it had disappeared seemingly overnight, which was fine for you. It was great! You had booted the most annoying man in the world out of your life and replaced him with a perfectly nice guy. Your life was coming up roses.

Except it was driving you insane. You had your phone out, held an inch below your desk, leaving the perfectly nice guy (what was his name? You hadn’t saved it in your contacts and you weren’t sure why) on read as you stared across the room at the faux-blond.

He was chattering to another boy who looked bemused and patient; probably another volleyball player. You were half-convinced this was part two of his ploy to get under your skin; he was playing the unpredictable game.

As you try to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes, you see him glance back at you for a second, just a second, and that’s it. You slam your palms down on the desk, shooting up from your seat, trying not to make eye contact when a few other students turn and look at you because of the noise. He still won’t look directly at you as you make your way to his seat.

“I just remembered I have to leave,” says Atsumu’s friend—Aran, not that you care what his friends are called—picking up his bag. “I have to go be anywhere else right now.”

“What,” Atsumu whines as he books it away from the two of you. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah,” you snap, folding your arms in front of your chest. You’re not sure why you’re so angry, just at the look of his melting chocolate eyes and hunched shoulders and pouty lips. Ugh. He’s the worst. “You’re avoiding me. Why.” The question sounds more like a sentence or maybe a threat.

“I’m not doing that,” he defends weakly. “Maybe I just got tired of looking at your face.”

“My face is fucking precious, okay,” you argue, “you should want to look at it all the time. Idiot. What’s wrong with you?”

“I do—I mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He returns, and there’s the familiar snap and sting that you like so much. “You don’t even like it when I talk to you—”

“I don’t!”

“So why are you mad now that I’m not?”

“Because—” You struggle for reasoning. You can’t find it. Something strange and huge is crawling its way up your throat.

“Because, uh, um,” he mocks you, and you almost sock him. “Make up your mind! I was trying to be nice to you, even though it’s fucking boring!”

“I don’t want you to be nice to me!” You shout, and then curl over, your face nearly in his lap as almost everyone else in the room turns to look at you. One of the library workers shushes you loudly. “It’s—you’re right, it is boring. Everything else is fucking boring. I like it when you bother me, ‘Tsumu, okay?”

“Okay,” Atsumu says, eyes widening, leaning away from you as you seem nearly on the verge of manic combustion in front of you. “Then—I’ll keep doing it?”

“Will you?” You sit up straight and look him squarely in the eye. He gulps, unsure what he’s being asked. Something is fluttering in his stomach, but he’s hesitant to trust it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and it feels like so much more than a confession.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you say, in the same deceptively soft tone. “Can I kiss you?”

“Not if I kiss you—” You grab his face before he can finish talking and smash your lips onto his, first hard and like you’re trying to bully your way into his mouth, then a little sweeter, a little more tender. “First?”

“I win,” you say smugly as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Please leave,” says the librarian. 

You live alone, which is amazing, because if Atsumu were to see his brother or teammates right now he might commit felony battery. In your apartment, which is full of trinkets Atsumu wants to examine but can’t because he’s very busy staring at you, you shove him onto the couch and sit on him. Sort of like you’re wrestling, but not at all.

“If we’re goin’ out,” he says, “we are going out, right?”

“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you say, and your smile is as bright as the stars. He clears his throat and prays his voice doesn’t crack.

“Good. Uh, if we’re goin’ out, does that mean you have to start bein’ nice to me?” 

“I’ll be nicer to you,” you promise.

“Oh.” His tone is almost disappointed. 

“Or,” you lean down, and he almost chokes on his own inhale. “I can date you and be mean to you at the same time,” you say into his reddening ear, your breath hot and your smiling lips barely, just barely brushing his skin. Atsumu makes a squeaking noise that can barely be understood. “What was that?”

“Yes, please,” he says fervently.

You bite his earlobe teasingly, and he finds that really nice, actually. The nicest.

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader fluff

[matrixbearer2024]

I'm On Your Screens.

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

Vox's POV of "Get Off My Screen!"

A/N: This is the silly TV man's POV on what I had written earlier since it was mainly just how dear reader saw everything. I wanted to do this before working on the Vox x Reader requests so I could do some practice on this dude's character hahaha. Also my goodness Tumblr you are THIRSTY for this man! Aaaaah I love it anyway so keep those ideas coming people!

Vox is a busy man, dealing with the other two Vees' chaos alongside his company kept his hands full daily.

Either always irate out of his mind or even grumpy because of it.

Velvette called him again because of Valentino making a bloody mess.

Oh great, this shit AGAIN-

Upon further inspection, the moth overlord was pretty much throwing another pissy tantrum because something didn't go his way.

Something about one of his whores stepping out of line or whatever?

Vox wasn't exactly listening.

Throughout that entire fit, Vox had half a mind to tell Valentino to just suck it up.

Sometimes shit goes wayside, it is what it is.

He was already exhausted mentally and physically by the time he dragged himself back into his monitor room.

Plopping himself back down on his chair, Vox let out a tired sigh and just stared at the many screens around him.

So imagine his surprise when he saw a random screen just crackle and fizz like an old CRT booting up.

Hell had done away with those darn things years ago-

He even made sure of it!

He swiveled his chair around to look closer at the fuzzy image that had appeared.

The static filter over the picture was definitely reminicent of an older TV screen.

He could barely make out a group of figures hunched over... something?

Vox tried to travel through the screen, as he could with the many many others in the room around him-

"FUCKING-! OUCH?!"

Only for it to rebound back.

Vox didn't know whether to be confused or surprised that he managed to zap himself.

HimSELF.

Besides that, a random prompt appeared on the screen.

What kind of haunted bullshit was this?

"What's your name?"

Okay, someone had to be pulling a prank on him.

Despite being skeptical, he decided to humor this weird situation.

"Okay-? The keyboard doesn't work. How am I supposed to use this thing? Just write on the screen?"

Despite his sarcastic remark to no one in particular, yes.

That was in fact what he had to do.

Which Vox found out pretty soon, and he felt a little idiotic that it wasn't the first thing he tried.

He had to squint to kind of understand what was happening on the other side of the screen.

He'd written his name on the screen aaaaand-

Great, absolutely nothing happened.

Someone had to be fucking with him.

There wasn't even any audio so he couldn't even use that for hints.

The group he'd been watching just all of a sudden jumped up and pointed towards him.

Or at least that's what it looks like.

Could they see him?

He wasn't even sure what happened next, the group somewhat hastily moved out of his sight.

Oh whatever.

Vox was about to just forget about the weirdness of the situation if something else hadn't popped up on an adjacent screen.

A phone homepage.

What the hell was that doing on his screens?

It wasn't like there was anyone in particular he was interested enough to look through their stuff.

Ohhhh he could interact with it this time.

Dumb fucking hackers could only zap him once, HA!

The screen with the TV filter quickly shut off when he interacted with the phone menu however.

He should really check his mainframe security and firewalls after this-

It took him no time at all to rummage away and scrounge up whatever he could from the phone.

Might as well do away with the tacky wallpaper while he's at it-

"Y/N huh?"

He saw your photos as well, only becoming more and more confused with the situation.

Were you a living human???

The camera app was unresponsive to his attempts at interacting with it.

So was the recording app...

Guess he couldn't use it to spy this time.

Before long, the phone was also being interacted with.

Vox could only guess it was you.

"Oh great- yeah, just go back to using the shitty wallpaper that I switched out on PURPOSE."

It didn't take much longer before Vox noticed other nearby screens popping up with electronic screens similar to this one.

He totally switched back the wallpaper before messing with the other stuff-

It was always the same, the cameras wouldn't work and neither would the microphones.

For a technology overlord, Vox found himself slightly irritated by how limited his actions were.

wtf was he even supposed to do with this?

Once he retired for the night, he wondered if all of this would just go away come morning.

Spoiler alert: It didn't.

Though the tacky wallpaper was back again.

Hm... this could be fun.

This went on for a few days, he and you were switching the wallpapers back and forth.

It was either his face or whatever random shit you'd change it with.

Sometimes Vox would just let you have some peace before switching it back after an hour.

He could only imagine how irritated you were.

Too bad he couldn't hear or see it.

But seeing you constantly battle with him for the wallpaper priority was entertaining enough.

Vox didn't bother with any of your other files or anything else at the moment.

He didn't see the point in doing so yet anyway.

Of course that was until the notepad opened.

"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."

He chuckled seeing you type out the message, guess the jig was up.

But he wasn't going to stop this game you both were playing just yet.

"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."

Little did Vox know that his snarky response would've been the start to an... odd companionship to say the least.

Both of you exchanged messages over the months.

Either idle talk or just conversation about anything under the sun.

If something bothered him at work, most likely he'd leave a rant on your notepad for you to find.

Similarly, if you've had a shitty day- he'd quickly know.

"You're obsessed with this Alastor guy huh?"

"No, he's just an old timey prick who keeps fucking up my stuff."

"You're obsessed."

"Fuck you. >:/"

Interacting with you ended up taking more of his free time and the other Vees would be confused why he spent so much more time in his monitor room.

Vox just brushed them off and rolled his eyes.

He wasn't attached.

He didn't actually care for you did he?

Yeah no absolutely not-

There was a point Vox did get bored enough to look into your files though.

He spent a good hour sorting through stuff while you got work done.

"You should really label your files better."

"It's not that bad."

"Really? After I spent a good while organizing and managing your shit because of some randomly named ones? A goddamn 'thank you' would've been nice."

"Random? I don't do random."

"Oh yeah? What's this one? 'Yeetus' or this one- 'Bababooey'?! Hell, this one is just keysmash!"

"Oh shut up, I still find my things."

"HOW????"

Vox proceeded to rant and bitch about it for another hour-

Sometimes when he just wanted to fuck with you, he'd steal control of the cursor.

It was purely just to spite you.

Your notepad rants afterwards kept him entertained.

He was slightly proud that he beat your wallpaper war.

Or so you dubbed it.

Now his grin was practically a permanent plaster on your devices.

Even so, when he wasn't busy Vox sometimes found himself looking over at your work.

"How is your grammar this shitty?"

"We have grammarly for that, I don't really care much."

"Grammar- what??"

Inadvertently he ended up being your spellchecker every so often.

He only realized how much help he'd been giving once you mentioned in passing that your English professor bumped up your grade.

Why?

Because your writing was just better.

Correction-

Vox's writing was better.

He wouldn't let you hear the end of it for weeks.

You knew it was a mistake telling him.

He didn't even stop his trolling there.

Once he figured out how to overload your computer's memory, it was lag central.

Then he started messing with the display and aspect ratio, making visual glitches while he pulled up random tabs or applications you needed to fight him to close.

"I'm in class you jackass! We can do this when I get home!"

"Nope, I don't think I will. >:3"

He thought he was doing you a favor giving your devices some custom flair as well.

"Are these emojis of you?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd enjoy them."

"Huh, cool."

He thought he was doing great as your companion, until you downloaded that thing.

What in Lucifer's name was it even?

Another tiny human in your desktop?

"What the fuck is that."

"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"

Vox didn't even bother replying, watching it move around and emote for a hot minute while his eye twitched.

Were you trying to piss him off?

Eventually he took his frustration out on it with the cursor to the best of his ability.

Even if it only irritated him more that it kept getting back up unharmed.

Fucking hell, if you wanted a visual desktop companion you could have just ASKED.

Even if he stayed up a few extra hours to work on it, Vox felt like it was worth it.

He was better than that stupid little companion thing you downloaded.

"Did you upgrade my desktop pet by any chance?"

"Why? Do you not like it?"

"Nah, it's actually pretty cute. Thanks."

Vox couldn't bring himself to reply to that.

He was not fucking CUTE!

It totally flew over his head that you called it a desktop "pet".

Depending on his mood, he would use the small thing to emote or just keep you entertained.

At least you could sort of see him.

Even when he couldn't see you.

However, Vox was still Vox and he couldn't help himself to a little mischief here and there.

You both met by sheer coincidence from a weird situation.

Still, the tech overlord couldn't help but be just slightly glad it happened to him.

If Vox had to actually be honest, you weren't all rainbows and sparkles.

You could be a total bitch if you wanted to.

Heh, maybe there'd be a chance he'll finally meet you down here.

Guess he'll just have to wait and see until then.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #he's a little shit #a charming little shit tho #I need to write more of this fool #Get Off My Screen Series

[buckttommy]

ok but buck fawning over tommy’s chin, kissing it and complimenting him on it every chance he gets bc he just finds it so cute 😔

i know this is not technically what you asked for, but. well.

"you like... my chin."

there's absolutely no reason for tommy to look as skeptical as he does, if buck is being honest. tommy's face is gorgeous in an old hollywood way. not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, and subsequently perfect because of it.

"well." buck reaches for tommy's smoothie and takes a sip. raspberry vanilla. buck's favorite. god, he wants to marry this man so badly some day. "i mean. the rest of your face has a lot going for it too, but. yeah. it's interesting. it makes your face nice to look at."

he watches tommy's face go from amused to straight up joyful, watches the column of his throat as he tips his head back and he laughs out loud, cheeks flushing pink, and god if that isn't the most beautiful sound buck has ever heard? made even more beautiful because buck knows how hard he had to work for his joy, his ease as he moves through life. tommy kinard is a weightless being and it shows in the way he navigates the world, deliberate in his intention to experience everything about life to its absolute fullest.

it's unfair.

it's unfair for one man to be this handsome.

moments like these, he wants to look around, see if anyone else in the cafe is as aware of tommy's beauty as he is but he always decides against it. number one, he already knows from experience that no one is actually looking at him, at them, and, number two, even if they were, it wouldn't matter. he's all buck's anyway.

tommy shakes his head, laughter quieting. "you're ridiculous. of all the things to lust over."

"oh, okay, laugh it up."

but tommy's eyes are soft and fond, despite the teasing. or, okay, maybe partly because of it. buck's boyfriend is a bit of an asshole, after all, but that's okay. he'll happily be the butt of every single joke if only tommy would keep looking at him like that, keep smiling at him like he's the answer to every question he's ever had.

tommy leans across the table into his space, voice lowering like they're the only two people in the world. he hums, eyes searching buck's face, and leans in, pressing a gentle, brief kiss to his lips.

"god, i love you."

buck's voice goes breathy like it's the first time he's ever heard it. "yeah?"

"mmm," tommy hums again. "i love you, you beautiful..." kiss. "...ridiculous..." kiss... "...hilarious..." kiss. "...kind of odd..." kiss. "deeply intelligent..." kiss. "...overwhelmingly sweet man."

he finishes with one last kiss to buck's mouth, and buck has honest to god butterflies in his stomach when tommy pulls away and sits back in his seat. eight months in and being kissed by him still feels the same as it did the first time—still feels warm, and safe, and beautiful, and loving, and... how did this happen?

how did buck become the guy who gets butterflies in his stomach over a kiss?

"uh." he blinks a couple times to clear his head, to focus his thinking. not like it works, not when tommy is looking at him like he hung all the damn stars in the sky. buck clears his throat. "well. yeah." a beat. "but i'm your idiot."

and it's so cheesy. if given the opportunity, buck probably could have thought of a million different sweet and sexy things to say, but, at the end of the day, it's true. he's tommy's in the same way tommy is his.

tommy rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, his nose scrunching up even as he takes his drink back. he takes a sip from his straw without blinking, swallows the rest of the thing down like he didn't order it specifically because he knows buck likes to steal his drink, and. god. buck is so in love it fucking hurts.

tommy reaches across the table and takes his hand, the last traces of humor smoothed away and replaced with nothing but aching sincerity. "yeah," he says softly. "yeah. you're my idiot."

#hey guys not to be dramatic but i'm fucking losing it a little bit #they are sooooooooo *screams into hands* #anyways #jack answers mail #tv: 911 #bucktommy #my fic #hmm. do i like this? i don't know. but it exists so! whatever! yolo girls! yolo!

[donatellawritings]

I just came across ur page and omggggg??? I'm literally in love. I was wondering if you could do a head cannon of Rafe with a latina reader who sings or plays soccer, tome su tiempo mamas 😻💕🎀

te quierooooo <3 fyi, i suck at headcanons so i hope you like this little drabble! i may have gotten carried away lol

you were constantly singing, i mean, whether it’d be humming along to the music that flowed from your speaker, or belting out lyrics in the shower — you were singing a song whenever you’d gotten the chance. and the best part about it? rafe loved every moment of it. sure, there were times where’d be having a rough day and could do without it, but he was never outright mean about it. truth be told, hearing the spanish words slide off of your tongue made him want you, perched on his lap, like the good girl you are, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

you were in the middle of singing a kali uchis song while rafe sat at his desk, struggling to focus on properly counting the stack of blue dollar bills that rested in the palm of his large hand, “hey, mama - d’you want to hold off on the singing while i count this?” he’d call out from his seat, before resuming his silent counting.

“sorry,” you winced, biting down into the fat of your bottom lip as you swallowed down your embarrassment, deciding to distract yourself by forcing your attention on the neatly displayed bookcase before you.

rafe was quick to finish his silent task, before sighing as he leaned back into his seat, his legs spread deliciously as he watched you adjust books that were already stood upright. he knew his words got to you easily, you didn’t deal well with correction, you always took it to the heart. so, he decided he’d continue watching you: looking to see if you’d crack.

you decided to stand on your tippy toes, your legs a bit wobbly from rafe having you fucked flush against the wall, just twenty minutes prior. you’d thrown on one of his shirts, the curve of your plush ass straining against the thin fabric as you reached your arm towards the one book that stood just a tad bit crooked. rafe couldn’t help but rub his lips with the side of his index finger, holding back a laugh as you became a bit too engrossed in the bookcase.

deciding to put you out of your misery, rafe let out an obnoxious huff of air, “come here, baby,” he caved, moving his chair away from the desk, giving you the space to climb onto his inviting lap.

you were quick to oblige, approaching rafe with a subtle pout on your lips as you curled into his side, your head resting on his shoulder, his hand softly tapping against the side of your hip. meanwhile, you toyed with his other hand, a lingering sense of embarrassment still bubbling in your stomach as you compared your hand size with rafe.

rafe was all too familiar with your anxious ways, so he decided to humor you about the song that you were singing along to, “so, what was that song that you were singing, earlier?” he questioned, sliding his fingers through yours, bringing his free hand to the back of your neck, guiding you to look up at him.

“la luna enamorada — it’s a kali uchis song,” you spoke, your eyes locked directly on rafe’s as he nodded with his mouth slightly opened. you were the first to break the eye contact, a blush creeping to your cheeks.

rafe presses his lips to the top of your hair, lightly bouncing his knee, “y’should teach me what all of that means,” he taps the side of your neck, commanding your full attention.

you gasped excitedly, sitting up straight in rafe’s lap, “oh my god, and then we can just start talking shit about people in spanish and they won’t even know,” you spewed quickly, laying your hand on his firm chest.

rafe quickly checked-out from your eager ramble, his eyes focused on the hem of his shirt that bunched up around your lower waist. his eyes now hung low as he took in the sight of the thin black thong that was almost entirely enveloped by your ass. the bounce in rafe’s knee now ceased as you turned to face him with a joyous smile.

“okay, so we can start with the basics, y’know-” you were quickly cut off by rafe pulling you to lay back against his chest, his hand now lightly wrapping around your throat.

“tell me that you love me,” he sighed, his hand that was once interlocked with yours now sliding underneath the seamless fabric of your thong. you let out a shaky breath, the overflow of excitement that coursed through your veins, now turning into an adrenaline that hummed through you.

rafe’s warm hand began to tighten around your throat, “te quiero,” you muttered, your hardened nipples now straining against his shirt as he massaged deep circles into your swollen clit.

“tell me that you belong to me,” rafe coaxed, continuing to massage your clit, his voice now an octave lower as he kissed the side of your face, a wet and noisy kiss.

you strained your neck to look up into his bright blue eyes, through your curled lashes, softly nodding as you struggled to find the right words, “t-te pertenezco a ti,” you forced out, a moan escaping from your throat as rafe’s fingers slid into your tight and wet hole.

rafe smiled down at you, mimicking your slacked jaw as he fit the entirety of his two fingers inside of you, “oh shit,” he laughed, bringing his hand from your throat, down to your hip, holding you still as you attempted to roll your hips, desperately needy for any kind of friction.

“rafe, plea-”

rafe shook his head, his fingers tensing inside of you as he leaned his forehead against your head, “tell me to fuck you, mama.”

“cógeme, te necesito.” you whined obediently, slightly shifting your hips, just to feel something. rafe decided he’d let you slide, considering how good and willing you’d been today. plus, his cock was already strained against his khaki slacks, eager to be freed and plunged into the deepest parts of you.

“y’such a good fucking girl,” he praised, pulling your face in for a disgusting sloppy kiss, his wet and warm tongue fighting against yours as he slid his lengthy ringed fingers in and out of you.

#starsluver #asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #sweetheart!reader

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

<>

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

<>

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

@ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @streamsofstardust @builtbybrokenbells @shutupdevvie @gretasmokerising @stardustvanfleet @stardustcatcher @wildbluesorbit @jaketlover @of-infinite-wonders

@tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @ofburningskies

@sunandthemoontwinflames @juliensbakery

@jakesguitarsolo @gretavanfreaky

@ageofbarbarians @gretavanfleetposts

@gvfpal @theweightofjake @alwaysonthemend

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl @jakes-eyebrows

@watchingovergvff @streamingcolors-gvf

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @writingcold

@starcatcher-jake @sarakay-gvf @groovyvanfleet

@i-choose-the-road @stillstreetjoshua @doodle417 @positivegvfthings @greta-van-fics @greta-van-chaos @gretavanbitches

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #ballet!jake #gvf smut #jake gvf #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fics #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fic #jake greta van fleet #jtk #jtk smut #jtk x reader #jacob thomas kiszka sir #jacob gvf #jacob thomas kiszka #jacob kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf fics #gvf fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #jakey gvf #greta van fic #greta van angst #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka imagine

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Honestly I feel like Stu would be having an sexuality crisis becoming he finds fem!Reader fine as hell and Billy fine as hell and he is just confused about what’s he’s feeling until he just blurts it out loud to them at a hang out at his house and we’ll they talk about their feelings towards each other

(You can make this into a poly only if you want to)

𝒞𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓈

I am a FIRM believer in pansexual Stu.

Stu smiled goofily as the Photo Booth took the picture, sticking his tongue out in the next one, his arms wrapped around you and Billy.

You were both used to him at this point, constantly being very touchy. But he was like that with everyone, right?

You ignored it for now, bringing the hot chocolate back to your lips and taking a sip. He handed you one photo strip and Billy the other. You all were at some carnival near Stu’s house, and now walking back to his house.

Little did you guys know, he was having a crisis. Stu liked you. He knew he did. But, recently, Stu had found himself thinking about Billy now too.

You had been the one clouding his thoughts, now it was the both of you, he constantly thought about you both and it was confusing to him.

He liked the both of you at the same time, which of course wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it confused him.

After a while of talking, the three of you reached the big house and Stu unlocked it.

“Ladies first.” He bowed, putting his hand out and stopping Billy.

Billy raised an eyebrow at it, but just followed after you. Stu locked the door and jumped onto the couch before you two could make it, he laid down so his whole body took it up.

Billy just sat on his leg and you laughed, he smiled at that and moved his legs.

“I’m glad somebody appreciates my humor.” He glances at Billy as he spoke.

“Oh, whatever. What are we watching, again?” He asked.

“Mmm..” Stu pulled a tape out his pocket, handing it to Billy as he read over it. Stu got up from the couch for a second to get a beer

“Never heard of this before. You said it came out last year?”

“Yeah. I haven’t either, that’s why I got it. I mean we’ve watched Halloween and nightmare on elm street a million times so I was like, why don’t we try something new?” He said when he came back in the living room, cracking it open and sitting down next to you.

Billy popped it into the player, and the movie shortly began.

Somehow after a little you ended up laying your head on Stu’s lap, and Billy ended up getting a lot closer to him.

He swallowed as he felt his shoulders brush up, he looked down at you, not quite sure what to do.

Billy noticed, deciding not to say anything. Stu stayed silent until he just couldn’t, it had been about an hour of you both doing this.

“I like you.” He said louder than he had expected, you both turned to him with confused looks. You sat up now.

“Who?” Billy asked, his heart thumped inside his chest.

“I mean… I like the both of you.. it sounds weird, I know! But I’m just so… like, confused. I like you. You’re fucking amazing.” He looked at you. “But then I like you.” He looked to Billy, he rambled on for a little.

You both looked at each other and back at Stu.

“-And I just made everything weird, but I couldn’t help it and I needed to say something.”

You smiled slightly and started to laugh, they both looked at each other confused now and back to you.

“Stu- there’s people that date more than 1 person. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I totally knew that.”

“Maybe you’re just one of those people. Because I like you, too.” You shrugged and smiled at him.

Then all eyes were on Billy. He didn’t say anything, and his silence was the answer.

Stu smiled now, as you all went back to watching the movie now that that’s sorted out. He’d ask you guys on a date after, but for now, back to the movie.

#stu matcher x reader #stu macher #stu macher x you #stu macher x reader #scream #billy loomis x reader #matthew lillard x reader

[blog-name-idk]

(Right) Hook, Line, and Sinker

*Banner by my love @persphonesorchid

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your horrible friends trick you into going to a haunted corn maze, where you inadvertently punch a zombie. Jungkook is, of course, in love.

Word Count: 12,353

Warnings: Smut

AN: This is the penultimate installment of the Autumn Leaves Collab, which is hilariously the reason I even made a Tumblr. We have one cute autumn-themed fic for each of our beloved boys by some seriously fantastic writers, so please go and check them out! Hope you all enjoy :)

~~~~~

(Right) Hook

It was a beautiful autumn day. The leaves were a gorgeous blend of crimson and gold, the temperature was brisk but not freezing, and the sun was kissing the horizon, setting the entire sky aflame in a blaze of unadulterated glory.

You couldn't have asked for a better day to be backstabbed by your friends. In fact, you didn't have any friends. Just terrible people who promised you donuts and cider and then turned around and forced you into a haunted corn maze.

Your best friend had laughed herself to tears watching your expression change when you caught sight of the sign and realization dawned upon your stupid, trusting brain.

"You betrayed me!" you screeched. Mijin dug the knife in deeper by cackling like the evil witch she was.

"It's your own fault for not looking up the name of this place beforehand," she snickered, wiping her eyes dramatically. You huffed and crossed your arms, sinking into your seat with no intention of getting out. They could drag your cold dead body from the car if they wanted to go into the maze.

"I'll pay for your donuts."

"... Okay."

~~~~~

"FUUUUUUUUUCK THIS!" you screeched, sprinting away from the terrifying clown that had leapt out at your group. Your friends doubled over laughing as you sped off, eager to put distance between you and the most recent jump scare.

In fact, you had been a little too eager to escape, and after a couple twists and turns you realized you were lost. Alone. In a creepy corn maze. While the sun was going down and probably also laughing at your idiocy. Fuck.

For a few slow, spooky moments, you struggled between your pride and your sanity. Should you call Meej and ask her to find you, and deal with even worse teasing later? Or should you just woman up and get through this maze to keep the last remaining shreds of your dignity intact? Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Well, that decided that. You weren't gonna go crawling back to her now. They would find your cold, dead corpse in the morning and she would cry at your funeral and you would sneer at the asshole from your new home in hell. If this wasn't already it.

Meej

LMAO DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST PANIC LOSE YOURSELF

YOU MORON

LOLOLOL

The wind picked up and you jumped as the leaves of the corn stalks rustled tauntingly around you. Every little echo and noise sounded like another monster sent to get you, and a falling leaf made you jump and put your fists up for a fight. The shadows looked as if they were reaching for you with inky fingers, and you couldn't tell if your shivers were from the bite of the air or the chill in your chest.

In your head, you knew that it was all fake, that anyone coming at you was just a paid actor in makeup and costume. Unfortunately, your cowardly reflexes and adrenaline convinced your body otherwise and you crept through the maze like a very tense, jumpy mouse. You were so intent on the possible danger ahead, however, that you didn't notice someone creeping up behind you.

"Boo." You felt the barest whisper of hot breath on your ear and you froze. Then your body went on autopilot.

"NOOOOO!" you screamed as you automatically whirled to face your attacker. You weren't entirely sure what had happened, but suddenly the knuckles of your right hand were on fire and there was a collapsed zombie in front of you cradling his nose.

"Oh my fucking god," you gasped as you realized what you had done. You crouched next to the poor dude probably earning minimum wage, and rummaged around in your bag. Did you not have any tissues or napkins or anything?

"I am so sorry, are you okay? Wait that's a stupid question, your nose is bleeding, uh, fuck, shit, can I help? Oh god."

Your victim's shoulders began to shake and you panicked more - you didn't mean to make anyone cry for fuck's sake. Shit, who was the real monster here? Then you realized that he was laughing.

"Uh… zombie guy?" you asked stupidly, wondering just how hard you had hit him. He smiled widely at you. Unfortunately, combined with the costume makeup and the blood flowing from his nose, the gesture was not as reassuring as he intended it to be. You appreciated the attempt, though.

"Jungkook."

"Sorry?"

"I'm Jungkook. What's your name?"

You stared at the boy, wondering just what was going on in that head of his and just how hard you had hit him. Because you were raised to be a polite young lady and some of society's training stuck despite your attempts to fuck the patriarchy, you ended up responding automatically.

"I'm [Y/n]."

Why had you said that? Was your first name and appearance enough for him to figure out your full name and sue you? Was that why he had asked? Well too bad zombie conman, joke was on him because you were broke as shit. The safest thing would probably be for you to peace out and make yourself scarce, but you were still worried about the blood dripping from his nose.

"Um, I didn't break it, did I?" you asked timidly as Jungkook got to his feet. He offered you a hand up, which you took despite feeling like you should be the one helping him. His skin was warm despite the fact that he must have been in the maze for at least an hour already.

"I don't think so," he replied, dabbing at his nose with his sleeve and adding real blood to what was (hopefully) just fake decoration. "That was a mean right hook."

"I'm so sorry!" you blurted again, guilt filling you at his words. Wait, you weren't supposed to admit fault out loud if you were getting sued, right? You had watched that in a show somewhere.

"Nah, it was hot."

You blinked at him. Surely you hadn't heard correctly. By the way he was grinning at you - and it was not cute, considering you were now staring at a grimacing zombie covered in blood - you in fact had. This guy was not right in the head, and you began backing away slowly.

"Okay that's great!" you babbled. "I'll-see-you-around-bye!"

With that, you turned and sprinted away despite your protesting legs. You really had to start going back to the gym sometime. If you did, maybe your rusty skills would be brushed up enough for you to defend yourself from this weirdo.

~~~~~

Line

Jungkook stared after you as the moonlight illuminated your fleeing form. Your feet barely made any noise as they pounded through the dirt and leaves, and he found himself even more enamored. You hadn't even given him enough time to tell you you were heading deeper into the maze instead of towards the exit. Well actually, that was probably a good thing. He had to be out here for a bit longer and this meant that you might still be around when he got off.

"Dude, what happened?"

He turned to see Taehyung who was dressed as a creepy clown and, in his opinion, looked way scarier than any undead creature could. Because clowns were real. And they could be anywhere.

"I think I'm in love," Jungkook sighed, unable to keep himself from poking his nose despite the way it made him wince. It was sort of like wiggling a loose tooth, except in this case it was a reminder of the beautiful moment he met his future wife. He was rewarded by his friend's very unimpressed expression, only mildly obscured by the giant red nose on his face.

"With someone who physically assaulted you?" asked Taehyung, crossing his arms and somehow going from creepy clown to bitchy clown. It was amazing what his friend could do with one tilt of his hips.

"I mean I got closer than I was supposed to because she was cute. And then she punched me."

Jungkook touched his nose again with a dreamy sigh as he gazed in the direction you had run off to. What were you doing now? Were you thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you?

"My head rang like a bell. Like wedding bells. Our wedding bells."

Taehyung closed his eyes in resignation, knowing his friend was a goner and probably already picturing your babies sparring with each other. If he was talking about the same girl he scared away from her group earlier, she definitely was pretty enough for any of them to get a little closer than strictly necessary for scaring. He opened them again and scanned his friend just to make sure he was really fine.

"Wait, do you have a boner?"

"She had perfect form, okay?!"

~~~~~

"I fucking hate you," you groaned as you sank down onto the picnic table bench next to Mijin. After what had to have been at least half an hour (the corn maze couldn't even possibly have been that big) of what felt like constant scary clowns and zombies and evil butchers popping out at you, you had finally found the exit. And of course your friends had already escaped and were sitting and eating donuts and drinking hot cider like the assholes they were.

"Yo, what took you?" she asked unsympathetically with a mouth full of cinnamon, powdered sugar, and deep fried dough. "After that clown, no one else showed up. We got done like twenty minutes ago."

"What the hell?" you whined, unceremoniously grabbing your friend's cider and downing it, wishing it had something stronger so you could forget this evening had ever happened. It definitely wasn't because you needed the warmth - you were sweating like a pig from fear and more physical exertion than you had performed in the last month combined. Were you just cursed? Wait no, you did not want your thoughts to go there right after that horrible experience.

And because it just wouldn't quit, Mijin poked your shoulder and pointed to where a familiar looking zombie was strolling towards you in a decidedly un-shambly fashion.

"[Y/n]!" chirped the zombie - Jungkook, was it? - as he waved cheerfully in your direction. Meej raised her eyebrows as you looked behind you and then pointed to yourself in confusion, as if he could have been referring to anyone else. Suspicion began to bloom in your mind.

"Jungkook," you greeted as he came closer, ignoring the curious eyes of your friends. "Do you happen to know the reason I was constantly assaulted by horrifying creatures while my friends here made it through untouched?"

The boy grinned at you, and now that you weren't overcome with hysteria and guilt, you realized that even under his make up his eyes were large and mesmerizing. Wait no, he was a weirdo, why were you noticing how pretty his eyes were?

"Yep," he said unashamedly, his smile widening at your inadvertent pout. "I asked my friends to help."

"I said I was sorry!" you cried indignantly, crossing your arms and scowling at the reason your lifespan had been shortened by ten years. "You didn't have to torture me!"

His eyes widened in surprise, making them impossibly bigger and - dare you say it - cute.

"It wasn't for that!" he protested. "It was so I could catch you after my shift!"

"I - what?" you asked stupidly, now completely bewildered. Jungkook suddenly looked down at his feet, and his voice took on a more hesitant tone.

"I was gonna get a late dinner now, um, will you come?"

Mijin's eyes were now burning a hole into the side of your head as you resolutely pretended neither she nor the rest of your friends existed. What the fuck was going on with your life today? First you got tricked into a haunted maze and now the fucking zombie you punched was asking you on a date?

"Um, it's past midnight," you mumbled, unable to come up with any other response as your brain continued to buffer. The hopeful gleam in those large, innocent eyes did nothing to help. Neither did his adorably bashful expression.

"Okay, early breakfast. On me. Please?" he asked, voice taking on a begging quality. His lip began to jut out in a pout and even under the horrible zombie make up you noticed it was full and plump. "It's the least you can do after you punched me in the face."

At that your friends began to snicker and Meej outright snorted. You felt your own face begin to burn despite the nip in the air. And then your so-called best friend decided to punish you for ignoring her.

"Yeah, she's free," she offered, making you swivel and gape at her second betrayal of the evening. Never one to do anything by halves, she then proceeded to hammer the final nails into the coffin of your friendship. "And she has no plans tomorrow that would make her have to go home early."

"Great!" said Jungkook happily as he and Mijin ignored your indignant splutters. "Just let me get cleaned up and I'll be back here in fifteen."

He jogged away with annoyingly bouncy steps and you whirled on your Brutus.

"What the fuck?" you hissed, ire rising at the smirk on her lips. You opened your mouth to screech at her and she shoved a donut hole into it.

"He's cute," she said conversationally as you chewed hard, determined to give her a piece of your mind. You swallowed, took a deep breath to prepare for your rant, and she stuffed another one past your lips.

"There, there," she said, patting your head as you glared at her, cheeks full of delicious pastry.

"He seems like a nice guy, but keep your location sharing on and if you don't text me every half hour I'll come find you okay?" she said soothingly, patting your bulging cheek. "If it really was something nefarious he'd probably pick a girl who couldn't fight back."

You pouted and slouched in your seat as your other frienemies snickered. Fuck those NPCs. You didn't know them. They weren't even important enough to have names in this universe.

You sulked while you waited for your mysterious zombie boy. Why were you being forced on a sketchy late night date with a total stranger who liked getting punched? Meej continued to feed you donut holes, petting your head and back as if you were a baby. Unfortunately, it was actually working to chill you out because you were an easy bitch.

"Ready?"

You glanced up at the familiar voice, gasped, and immediately began choking on the powdered sugar that flew into your windpipe. Jungkook had removed the zombie make up and clothes, and while he had seemed cute, you hadn't been expecting him to be a total fucking smoke show even with a swollen nose. Fuck location sharing, you would let this guy dismember you and thank him for it. From the way Meej chortled as she handed you more cider, she knew exactly where your mind was at.

"I-uh-yeah," you said suavely, getting up and tripping over the bench as you tried to get out. He moved easily to grab you before you could land on your ass and you felt yourself pressed against a very firm, muscular body.

"You okay?"

Oh no, he was even cuter up close. You gulped and nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his large, sparkling eyes or his wide smile. His two front teeth were ever-so-slightly larger than normal, making him look like an adorably handsome bunny. Who happened to be ripped beyond belief.

A flash went off and the two of you turned to see Mijin, who was pointing her phone at the two of you. You quickly stepped away from him, wondering if your face was as red as it felt.

"Don't mind me," she said innocently, tucking it back into her bag. "Just getting a picture so if [y/n] goes missing I can give the police a lead. Jungkook, right?"

You glared at her, knowing that while it was kind of true, she probably also wanted to memorialize the stupidly dazed expression on your face. The upside was that the muscle bunny wasn't offended, which gave him points toward not being a Gen-Z Ted Bundy.

"Jeon Jungkook," he told your friend with a grin and a nod. "If that helps."

"Good boy," Meej said approvingly. "Have fun, kids."

She gave your butt a goading slap as you turned to follow Jungkook away, and when you turned to yell at her she somehow managed to throw another donut hole right into your mouth. Maybe she really was a witch.

~~~~~

As you walked towards the parking lot, it hit you that you were about to get into the car of a complete stranger. Granted he was a very attractive, nice-seeming stranger who looked to be about your age and whose full name you now knew, but still. This was what all those old stranger danger videos warned you about. The darkness of the night and the rustling of the leaves did nothing to lessen the creepiness of the atmosphere. As if coming to the same realization, Jungkook turned to you with an uncertain expression on his face.

"There's a Denny's about five minutes away from here, it's the only place still open for food," he explained, pointing his finger somewhere to the east. "You can tell your friend that's where we'll be."

"Denny's," you mused, shooting off a quick text to Meej. "You're a real romantic, Jeon Jungkook."

That bunny-like smile appeared back on his face and you felt your heart give a hop in response as the two of you began walking again. You couldn't tell if it was just because of him or also because you had eaten too many donuts.

"I also make some mean ramyun, but hopefully I'll get to show you another time."

"Hm, that's very presumptuous of you considering you're taking me to a Denny's after midnight," you teased. "Are you just that charming?"

"I hope so," he told you earnestly, the blush that rose on his cheeks doing more to endear him to you than anything else so far. You reached his car, and he gallantly - and cutely - scrambled to open the passenger door for you. When you smiled at him in thanks, he froze and stood at the door, gaping at you like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh… is everything okay?" you asked uncertainly, grin slipping off your face. Jungkook turned bright red and swallowed, shaking his head.

"Y-you're just even prettier when you smile," he stammered, before closing the door and hurrying to the driver's side. You barely heard the slam over the way your blood began to pound in your ears, and a small voice inside of you screamed that this was all way too good to be true and you were about to get murked. Another voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Meej, told it to shut the fuck up. Mijin had the unfortunate (or fortunate) habit of always being right, so you decided to listen to that one instead.

Jungkook still seemed flustered as he got into the drivers' side, which was absolutely fucking precious. It relaxed you further despite the awkward silence that descended as the two of you tried to figure out what to talk about.

"So… was that clown also your friend?" you finally asked, remembering the recurring horror that had kept you lost in the maze for so long. Jungkook grinned and nodded, though he quickly turned his eyes back to the road.

"Yep, that's Taehyung. Honestly I think his costume is the scariest," he confirmed, and you shuddered in acknowledgement.

"Yeah, zombies and werewolves and stuff aren't real. But clowns are, that makes it worse."

"EXACTLY! See, you get it!"

The awkwardness between you dissipated as you began to banter back and forth more comfortably, and you found yourself laughing outright more often than not. As it turned out, not only was this zombie boy a confusing mixture of sexy and adorable, but he was also funny and kind. You had a feeling you weren't going to come out of this night alive, but for entirely different reasons than you had initially expected.

The easy conversation continued through your late dinner/early breakfast, and you found yourself enjoying talking to him even more than the greasy eggs and bacon on your plate. He was just so sweet and cute, it was impossible not to like him.

As the food dwindled, you found that you didn't actually want this night to end. You realized you were growing increasingly enamored with this strange boy, but you weren't sure if he felt similarly after actually having a conversation with you.

Well, you were a strong(ish), independent(ish), woman who knew what she wanted, right? You were a twenty-first century girl! All you had to do was be brave and be the one to ask for his number!

You took one look at Jungkook's handsome face and sparkling eyes and decided no, you were not a brave, strong, independent woman. He was way too attractive for you to be able to grab life by the proverbial ovaries and just straight up ask him out. You let out an internal sigh at your own cowardice, then eyed the table where his right hand was idly drumming the edge of the forgotten menu. Do it, bitch, whispered the Mijin-voice in your brain.

Steeling yourself, you set your own hand on the table and crept it forward until it brushed against his own. He stopped talking mid-sentence and froze, then pulled his hand back as if he'd been scalded. His eyes were so wide it would have been comical if your heart wasn't currently sinking in your chest.

"Uh, I have to pee," he stammered, before bolting upright and almost running to the bathroom. You sat there, stunned and humiliated. That had actually been worse than just hearing no. What should you do now? Stay here and be awkward? Call Mijin and have her come get you?

Before you could fully make a decision, a beautiful guy who was decidedly not Jungkook plopped down into his seat. Another equally gorgeous boy sat in the empty space next to you, giving you a bright smile that squished his eyes into adorable crescents.

"Hi! I'm Jimin!"

~~~~~

"Why are we doing this again?" complained Jimin from the passengers' seat as Taehyung followed the car in front of them. "I'm tired, I want to go home."

"Because," said his best friend, "we all put enough effort into Kookie getting this date and he better not fuck it up."

"Wait, with that girl you told me to scare away from the exits?" he asked, suddenly interested. He sat up a little straighter in his seat. "She was super cute."

"Yep, and now I'm invested and I want to see how it goes."

They both sighed a little when they followed Jungkook's car into the Denny's parking lot. It made sense, it wasn't like there was anything else open or around, but still. Denny's? Taehyung parked far enough away that it was unlikely they'd be noticed, but when Jimin went to follow you and Jungkook inside, he tugged him over to the windows instead.

"Seriously?" he asked incredulously, staring at his friend in disbelief. "This is literally the creepiest thing we could be doing, and that's saying a lot considering where we work."

"I'm not hungry," Taehyung replied with a shrug, crouching behind a bush to hide his form from the parking lot. Jimin rolled his eyes but followed suit. When Tae got like this, it was usually better to just humor him.

"Man, she's really pretty," said Jimin, trying not to think about the fact that he was currently admiring a girl through the window of a Denny's while hiding in a bush. Surprisingly, the date actually seemed to be going well - you were laughing, Kookie was laughing, and you were smiling more often than not.

Honestly it was beginning to get boring and Jimin was feeling more and more like a stalker. And watching the two of you eat an absurd amount of eggs and bacon was starting to make his stomach grumble. He was cold, tired, hungry, and it didn't seem like things were going to get interesting any time soon.

"Can we go yet? I think he's doing fine."

As if on cue they watched as you tried to touch his hand and, in true Jungkookie fashion, their friend panicked and ran away. Taehyung gave him a pointed 'I-told-you-so' look, which Jimin ignored as he got up and dusted himself off before heading towards the restaurant doors. If Jungkook was too scared to properly flirt with a pretty girl, then his hyungs would just have to show him how it was done.

~~~~~

"Hi! I'm Jimin!"

"Uh, I'm [y/n]," you replied automatically, before cursing yourself for giving your name to a stranger for the second time that night. Should you be worried? Weird things definitely tended to happen when you sat alone at a Denny's after midnight, but they usually involved alcoholics or tweakers, not beautiful mystery men. Well, maybe they were alcoholics or druggies and it just hadn't destroyed their systems yet.

Seeing the trepidation on your face, the other boy gave you a reassuring grin that simultaneously relaxed you and made your face warm.

"I'm Taehyung. We work at the maze too. We - er - we came here to get some food, and recognized you."

A lightbulb went off in your head when he said his name and you gaped in shock. What the fuck? The creepy murder-clown was secretly also a hot guy? Was everyone that worked at that maze secretly a supermodel? They both laughed and you realized you had said the last bit aloud.

"That's really sweet of you," said Jimin, scooting a little closer to you with a twinkle in his eye. Despite the fact that he had probably been outside scaring people all night, he still smelled quite nice. "I'm not aware of that being a prerequisite, but if it is you'd definitely be a shoo-in."

You felt your face flush bright red at the compliment, but luckily you didn't need to respond because Jungkook chose that moment to return. He looked incredibly pissed, which was honestly pretty hot. And confusing. If he wasn't interested anymore, shouldn't he be relieved to have a distraction?

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked flatly, crossing his arms as he eyed the way Jimin was crowding your space. You were clearly flustered, and the way Jimin was looking at you made his jaw clench in irritation.

"We just wanted to get some food," said Jimin innocently. He smiled at you again and inched even closer, pressing his muscular thigh against yours. "But now that I'm here, I think I'm more in the mood for dessert."

Suddenly his warmth was gone and you realized that Jungkook had picked his friend up by his armpits like a dog. The effortless way he lifted him had you eyeing the stretch of his jacket across his biceps, and you recalled just how firm his body had been earlier. He deposited Jimin next to Taehyung with an uncaring thwump and sat next to you, right where his friend had been. His thigh was just as firm as Jimin's, and you felt your chest go fluttery at his proximity.

"Can I get you guys anything else?"

The tired looking waitress sighed when she saw the two new additions to the table, and while they ordered, Jungkook turned to you with that bright smile.

"Did you want anything?" he asked softly, leaning in closer so you could hear him. You were incredibly confused. First just a brush of your hand was enough to send him fleeing, but now he was sitting in your space and looking at you like you were the only person in the room. Maybe he really did have to pee that badly and you had bad timing? Either way, you wanted to prolong this time with him.

"Um, I could go for a milkshake," you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and trying not to stare at how close his lips were to your own. "I don't know if I can drink a whole one though."

"We can split one!"

Jimin's voice broke through the small bubble that had enveloped you and Jungkook, and you looked across the table to see a cherubic smile on his face. You didn't know him well enough to know that this was actually his shit-eating grin, and you also didn't see the knives Jungkook was currently hurling out of his eyes.

"No way, she's gonna share one with me," he protested with an annoyed huff, before turning to you again and looking uncertain. "I mean, only if you want to."

Fuck, this boy was way too cute. You were getting an enjoyable whiplash from the way he switched between being possessive and shy. You nodded, unable (and unwilling) to resist the hope glimmering in his eyes. You gave your order to the waitress, who had started tapping her foot impatiently - not that you could blame her - and brought your attention back to the table.

"So you really punched our Jungkookie in the nose?" Taehyung asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. The full force of his attention amplified your embarrassment and you covered your face with your hands.

"Wait, what?" chortled Jimin, reaching across the table to tousle Jungkook's hair. The former zombie scowled and flicked his friend in the forehead, and the two began to stage an odd over-the-table battle. You slumped further in your seat.

"Your hand looks bruised, let me see."

Warm, gentle fingers pried your own off your face as Taehyung pulled your hand closer to inspect your knuckles. You fought down the urge to shiver as he brushed his thumb across your skin, and the small smile he gave you - more of a smirk, really - made your cheeks heat up.

"He's hard-headed for sure, but it doesn't look too bad," he said with an unfairly attractive arch of his brows. The hint of a smolder in his dark eyes made the gesture seem more suggestive than it should have, and you swallowed hard, unable to look away. "Want me to kiss it better?"

All of a sudden, your hand was back at your side, but now enclosed in another warm grip. You looked at Jungkook in surprise, though you couldn't say you weren't pleased at his attention. He laced his fingers through yours, and you marveled at how perfectly your hand fit into his.

"Leave her alone, hyung," the boy said with a glare, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You hadn't prepared for how hot that looked, or what it did to your insides, and your cavewoman brain short-circuited at the action.

"Are you going to kiss it better then?"

Oh fuck, you had said that out loud. You watched the glare evaporate off his face as he whipped his head to stare at you, then your joined hands. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears as his brain buffered, and your insecurity began to re-establish itself. Until he pulled your hand up to his face and brushed his full, soft lips against your skin, making you shiver.

Your own lips parted slightly in surprise as you stared at him, fully aware that your heart was pounding and your skin was tingling. His own dark eyes looked back at you, and the intensity in his gaze made you wonder if perhaps he wasn't so innocent after all.

"Is that better?" he murmured against your skin. You nodded, momentarily mute, and his happy smile took your breath away. In a burst of courage, you leaned forward and planted a soft peck on his nose.

"Just returning the favor," you said with a shy grin, ignoring the "ohhhhhhh nice one" from Taehyung. The dazed look on Jungkook's face was definitely worth it.

"You know, I think I cut myself shaving this - "

"Shut the fuck up hyung, you grow like five hairs."

Jimin's offended expression made you laugh, and some of the embarrassment you felt at the two other boys witnessing your awkward fumbles with Jungkook dissipated. His grip on your hand tightened as if taking ownership, which set your silly, weak heart aflutter. You relaxed a little further once Jimin's food arrived and he focused his attention more on eating than on sending you flirtatious glances. Until the waitress brought your milkshake.

"What flavor did you get?" asked Taehyung interestedly, eyeing the tall glass with poorly concealed mischief.

"Um… cookies and cream…?" you ventured with a frown, considering the coloring made it pretty obvious. Taehyung's cheshire grin widened, and from the corner of your eye you saw Jungkook's ears turn pink.

"Oh, do you like cookies?" asked Jimin, having been lured away from his pancakes by the promise of being able to tease his friend. You glanced between the duo, feeling like you were missing something.

"Uh… doesn't everyone?" you asked. Jimin chortled in glee at your response and you spared a peek at Jungkook, who looked resigned and annoyed.

"Well our Jungkookie here is the sweetest of all, wouldn't you say?" said Taehyung with a shit-eating grin. "And his cream-"

He was cut off by a stream of milkshake hitting him in the face. Jungkook glared at him from beside you, straw to his lips and pointed straight at his friend. You and Jimin burst out laughing at the shocked expression on Taehyung's face, and you couldn't help but want to rib him back for how much he had been teasing Jungkook all night.

"Well tell me," you drawled, "how does his cream taste?"

Jungkook choked from beside you, and Jimin laughed so hard he fell sideways into his friend's lap. Taehyung just grinned and wiped some with his index finger, then held it out to you.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" he countered, recovering from his surprise impressively quickly. Your jaw dropped in surprise, and as if he took it as an invitation, he brought his finger closer.

Only for Jungkook to lean forward and lick it clean instead. Which was not hot. Definitely not.

"Thanks, hyung," the boy said with zero expression on his face while Jimin gasped for air. You were actually starting to get concerned for his lungs. "The ice cream was good, tasted like there was some bullshit mixed with it though."

"Maybe Taehyung should take his head out of his ass," you said without thinking, then blushed when you realized you had acted as if you were with Meej and the rest of your friends. They were just so goofy that you had gotten too comfortable, too fast. You needn't have worried though, because Jimin had fallen to the questionably clean floor under the table and Jungkook was staring at you with an even dopier grin than when you had punched him.

"You're amazing," he breathed, making you blush even harder. To avoid having to respond, you took a large slurp of your milkshake, then sighed in contentment.

"Kookie, you invited her to the Halloween party already, right?" asked Taehyung, eyes amused. He clearly wasn't offended by your remark, and that helped you relax again. Especially because Jungkook took that sparkling gaze off of you to scowl at his hyung. His attention was making you feel too many things.

"I was going to, before you showed up," he complained, and you fought down the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth at how cute he sounded.

"Oh please, you ditched a pretty girl alone at a Denny's after midnight before we showed up," retorted Jimin, who had finally recovered and was running his hand through his hair to fix it. You couldn't help but giggle at the way Jungkook's plump lower lip began to jut out in a pout, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"So what's this about a party?" you asked him, chest tingling at the way he immediately perked up and turned back to you. His eyes were so large and bright that you were left momentarily breathless.

"My roommate and I are having a Halloween party this weekend," he explained, looking adorably hopeful. "Um, if you're free, would you want to come? You're welcome to bring some friends if you want."

"If you give me your number, I can - OW!"

You suppressed another giggle as Jimin glared at Jungkook, who had not-so-subtly kicked him under the table.

"I'd love to," you replied, ignoring the two older boys. Jungkook's face lit up brighter than the moon outside, and you unlocked your phone and handed it over to him so he could enter his contact information.

He pouted a little when you did deign to get Jimin's and Taehyung's numbers as well, though he snickered when he saw that you named them TweedleJim and Taedledum. They did tone down their aggressive flirting - slightly - but by the time everyone had finished eating and paying, you wondered how purple the older boys' shins were going to be tomorrow. There had been a lot of kicking from your irritated date, and he had decidedly muscular thighs and calves.

"It was great meeting you," said Jimin as the four of you left the restaurant. The mischievous cast had returned to his face, and he pulled you into a hug that lasted far longer than necessary and only ended when Jungkook shoved him away. Taehyung didn't hug you, but instead took your hand and pressed his lips on your knuckles right where Jungkook had.

"Can't wait to see you this weekend," he said with a wink and throaty chuckle as the youngest ripped your hand away. He stomped towards his car, towing you behind him, and you gave a half-hearted wave to the two monkeys sporting identical grins behind you. You had to half-jog to keep from falling over, but the way Jungkook's cheeks were puffed out ever so slightly was too cute to be annoyed with.

Despite his irritation, he still opened your door for you, and your insides melted further. When he entered the driver's side, you took a moment to admire his pouting profile as he started the car. Then you grabbed his right hand, tracing the skin of his knuckles with your thumb.

"Jungkook, you know I think I like you a lot, right?" you asked, smiling at him. It was a little embarrassing to say aloud, but he seemed like he needed the reassurance after being teased by his shameless friends all night. His large eyes widened in surprise and a slow smile began to consume his face.

"Yeah?" he breathed, eyes shining as he looked at you. You noticed he had a cute mole under his lower lip.

"Yeah," you confirmed softly, gazing back at him and feeling your cheeks warm. You weren't sure who moved first, but then his soft lips were pressed against your own. The kiss was sweet, sweeter than the vanilla still lingering on his lips, and you sighed in contentment as you tangled your fingers in his baggy shirt to bring him closer. He complied, letting his own hands cradle your cheeks gently.

Then twin thuds sounded from either side of you, and you broke away to see Jimin and Taehyung grinning from opposite windows. You screamed in horror and clung to Jungkook before realizing who the fucking idiots staring at you were, and Jungkook swore under his breath.

"I'm going to murder them," he hissed as you laughed weakly and pressed a hand to your pounding chest. It had gone from butterflies to straight up heart attack far too quickly for your preference, and you whole-heartedly supported his statement.

"I'll help," you offered with a scowl as the two idiots gave you cheeky waves and scampered off to a different car. "Do you have an extra shovel?"

"Oh, I couldn't let you do physical labor like that on our first date," Jungkook replied innocently and you smiled in spite of yourself.

"But Denny's and getting harassed by your friends is fine?" you countered, though you placed a chaste peck on his cheek to show you weren't actually bothered. Despite the fact that you had literally just kissed, his cheeks flushed.

"We'll do something better next time," he promised, and your heart fluttered at the casual way he said it. Still, you couldn't help but give him a little shit.

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?" He whirled to look at you, eyes wide, and you began to giggle.

"That wasn't nice," he complained, that adorable pout making its way onto his face again.

"I'm sorry, what can I do to make up for it?" you teased, eyes flicking back down to his lips. He grinned and leaned forward, but a loud honk from what was presumably Taehyung's car startled both of you again.

"Let's get you home," he groaned, leaning back in his car. You laughed and took his hand, twining your fingers with his as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I mean, I doubt they'd follow us all the way to my place…" you said, brushing his hand with your thumb. Jungkook drove a little faster.

~~~~~

Sinker

"You think I should've put a shirt on under this?" you fretted as the Uber driver pulled into the parking lot of a decently sized apartment complex. Mijin rolled her eyes as she adjusted the halo atop her cow onesie, which was the exact opposite of yours in terms of being revealing.

"You're the one trying to seduce a guy who's clearly already gone for you," she deadpanned, making you flush.

"We just met a week ago! How would you know?" you protested, checking the tape keeping your robe semi-decently over your chest for the hundredth time since you'd entered the car.

"I've read your texts, they're disgusting," she said fondly. "He texts you good morning and good night every single day with hearts and everything, it's pathetic."

"I think it's cute," you said defensively, making her laugh and ruffle your hair.

"That's because you're just as whipped as he is."

"Be nice to me," you warned. "Or else we can go back and you won't get to meet any of his hot friends."

"Bitch I'm the one who agreed to come in case this is secretly an enclave of hot serial killers."

"Er, not to interrupt, but is this the right apartment?"

You both looked at the Uber driver, who you had completely forgotten about, then at the building outside.

"Yep, thanks! Sorry about that," you confirmed, opening the door and hopping outside. You shivered in the cold and mentally cursed yourself for going the hot girl route instead of the sensible funny costume route. Then again, you had goals for tonight that hopefully involved a cute ex-zombie between your legs.

As soon as Meej got out of the car, you nodded to the Uber and scurried up the stairs to the proper apartment. Even without knowing the apartment number you could've guessed which unit was the right one from the music pulsing in the air.

You opened the door cautiously, not really knowing what to expect, and a wave of warm air and bass blasted out at you. There was a decent amount of people in the room, and you stepped inside with Meej in tow.

"So where's your man?" she asked, trying to scan over the sea of heads. You shrugged, also looking around to see if you could find him.

"You made it!"

You turned to see twin gorgeous boys wearing togas and wreaths, and smiled despite knowing they were probably up to something already. Mijin outright ogled, and you couldn't really blame her.

Jimin was a vision in white, with a golden belt bearing a sun motif and a laurel crown. Combined with his smooth, pale skin, he nearly glowed. Taehyung wore a green toga, with silver moon adornments and a small toy bow-and-arrow. It played wonderfully with his tanned complexion, and you stared for a moment despite being preoccupied looking for Jungkook. They were already gorgeous before, but in their costumes they truly personified the Greek gods they were dressed as.

"Hey guys," you greeted, but before you could introduce them to Meej they grabbed both of you and all but dragged you further into the house. You sighed internally. It appeared that their antics were already in motion.

~~~~~

"Where is she?" Jungkook complained from his seat on the couch as he pouted into his plastic cup. He had been daydreaming about seeing you again since pretty much the second he had dropped you off that fateful night. The two of you had made out for an inordinately long amount of time in your parking lot, and he had driven away with a happy heart and a raging boner.

Between that right hook, first date, and the constant texts you'd been exchanging throughout the week, it was safe to say he was completely enamored. Not only were you scrappy, but you were gorgeous, funny, and nice, and talking to you just felt right. And amazingly, you seemed to feel the same way. So where were you? You said you couldn't wait to see him, so why weren't you here yet?

Jimin chortled at his younger friend's expression, patting his head like a child. Which he definitely looked like considering he was sagging in his seat in a cookie monster onesie.

"She'll be here," Taehyung assured him with a grin. "If not for you, then for me."

Before Jungkook could respond to his obnoxious friend, a slightly slurred, high-pitched voice came from his side and he winced.

"Jungkookieeee!"

"Uh, hi Dina," he said with a polite smile at the girl dressed as a slutty cookie. So this was why she had pestered him to know what his costume tonight would be. He looked around for help, but of course his two friends had oh-so-mysteriously disappeared in his time of need.

The sound of the door opening drove Dina out of his mind, and his gaze shot hopefully towards the entryway. It was hard to see, but there you were with that friend who had forced you to go out with him that night. He needed to remember to thank her for that. She would probably be the maid of honor at the wedding.

Even from halfway across the room, obscured by other partygoers, you were so pretty he wanted to die. Had you somehow gotten cuter since he had last seen you? He shot up immediately, not even noticing that Dina had been trying to sit on his knee, and she was sent toppling to the floor.

"Owww," she whined despite not looking like she had hit anything. Jungkook sighed in frustration. He really did not want to deal with her right now, not when you were right there, but he wasn't an asshole.

By the time he had helped her up, made sure she was fine, and pried her clinging acrylic talons off his arm, you were nowhere to be found. With an annoyed scowl, he realized that neither were Jimin or Taehyung. His eyes narrowed. They wouldn't.

He found you in the kitchen, sipping a drink and being caged against the counter by Taehyung. Jimin was engaging your friend, who looked more amused than charmed. Your expression was decidedly patient, which soothed Jungkook's ruffled feathers somewhat despite the way his hyung was staring at you like the hunter he was dressed as. Then he got a full view of your actual costume.

He had thought he couldn't be any more attracted to you, but you had proven him wrong. You were wearing a silky boxing robe tied tightly over some criminally short shorts that revealed a very appealing amount of leg. Your knuckles were wrapped in athletic tape, and his nose and his dick twinged at the same time. You were perfect.

Jungkook would have taken more time to admire you, but Taehyung was way too close, and currently playing with the hem of your robe. Something in his brain growled mine.

Then the older boy tugged you towards him by the tie of your robe and Jungkook went on autopilot, striding forward and ripping you away from his hyung. He opened his mouth to yell at Taehyung, until he realized he was holding you and his hand was touching warm, bare skin. He looked down and you stared back, mouth open and face pink. He looked further down and realized your tie had gotten undone. Your breasts were somehow still covered, but it was completely obvious you were wearing nothing underneath. His brain short-circuited.

Jungkook stood there, frozen and gaping, for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Then your friend surreptitiously stomped on his foot, and he came back to his senses. He was not about to let his hyungs see you like this.

You gave a squeak as he scooped you into his arms, clinging to the front of his onesie in a way that he quite enjoyed as he strode wordlessly out of the kitchen. He didn't even see Dina, who he almost trampled into crumbs in his haste to get you away. He quickly made his way to his room and shut the door behind him with his foot.

"Um, Jungkook?" you asked timidly, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes. He froze again when he realized what he had done, and that your robe was still untied and revealing a tantalizing amount of skin.

"S-sorry," he stammered, trying and failing to not ogle at the expanse of skin revealed by the cascading fabric. "I just… didn't want them to see…"

Your lips began to twitch up into a smile, and you brought your arms around his neck.

"Oh?" You asked softly, voice almost a purr. The look in your eyes made his heart stutter and his dick twitch. You brought your lips to his ear, and your hot breath sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. "And why's that?"

You licked the shell of his ear, tongue warm and wet, and something in him snapped. Jungkook tossed you into his bed, and crawled over to trap you between his arms. The flash of worry that he was going too far vanished when you grabbed the front of his onesie to pull him down and crush his lips against yours.

"Because," he said as he pulled back, slightly breathless. You were a vision below him, splayed out and licking your lips as you stared up at him with hooded eyes. "You're mine."

He saw your mouth begin to curve into a smile before he was on you again, hot and hungry and demanding. Your lips slotted against his perfectly, and the whimper you gave when he sucked your lower lip between his teeth added more fuel to the heat blooming in his abdomen. You evidently felt the same, because you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring his hips against yours, making you both gasp as his erection rubbed against your clothed core. Despite the tickle of his costume, it sent arousal flooding through you.

"O-oh, Kookie," you moaned as he turned his attention to the line of your jaw, planting soft kisses and nips until he reached the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Then he began to suckle harshly, making you gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair encouragingly. If his hyungs couldn't keep their hands to themselves, he'd just have to show them who you belonged to.

His hands skated across your bare stomach, making you shiver, until they came to rest at your covered breasts. Then he sat back, looking perplexed.

"Why isn't this moving?" He complained, tugging lightly at your robe. You burst into giggles at the confusion on his face.

"It's boob tape," you explained, and laughed harder at his uncomprehending expression. "It's basically double-sided tape for clothes. Did you never wonder how girls wear drapey stuff without nip slip?"

"I just thought it was some weird boob magic," Jungkook responded sheepishly, and you dissolved into giggles again.

"You're cute," you said between chuckles, then gasped when he ground his hips down hard against you.

"Cute?" he asked darkly, making your mouth go dry. He proceeded to peel the robe off your chest - luckily the tape stayed on the fabric and not your skin - and his gaze went molten. He stared long enough for you to begin to squirm beneath him, and you brought your arms up to cover yourself. His own shot out to grab your wrists and pin them on either side of your head.

"No, let me see you," he demanded, and the pure want in his voice went straight between your legs. His eyes raked over you like hot coals, the heat in them bringing a pretty flush to your cheeks.

"God you're so beautiful," Jungkook whispered reverently before descending again to devour you. You moaned into his mouth, wrists straining half-heartedly against his grip, and he took the opportunity to part your soft lips with his tongue. He licked into your mouth in hot strokes, and your thighs tightened around his hips in an effort to bring him closer. The whine you let out as his cock rubbed you through your shorts made him even harder, and he broke away from your mouth to trail wet kisses down your jaw and your neck. This time, he went past your collarbone to suck bruises that bloomed red and purple on the skin of your chest.

"Jungkook," you moaned breathily, trying to control yourself despite how good he was making you feel. The way he was pinning you down so easily despite how shy he had acted at the beginning was doing a number on you.

He paused to give you a boyish grin at complete odds with the way he was making your pussy clench, before dipping his head to roll your pert nipple around his tongue. Then he sucked hard and you keened, arching into the warm wetness of his mouth.

"Fuck, touch me please," you begged, desperate to feel his hands on you. His eyes darkened further and that innocent grin turned wicked.

"Anything for you, baby," he promised, and the pet name turned you on even more. He released your hands to explore your soft curves, and yours immediately went to the buttons of his adorable but currently unappreciated cookie monster onesie.

You were able to make quick work of them despite the distracting way he was nipping your neck and pinching your nipples, and you forced him backwards so you could shove the upper part of his costume off his frame.

"Oh, fuck you," you groaned when you got a full blast of his glorious body. Jungkook smirked as you ogled his abs, no trace of that stumbling boy left in his dark eyes.

"I mean, if that's what you want," he teased, preening under your gaze. You wanted to roll your eyes, but they were still glued to the hard ridges of muscle on prominent display.

"Shut up and take this off," you grumbled, shoving his onesie further down his waist. "It's tickling me."

Jungkook grinned impishly at you before obeying, and when he kicked his costume to some random corner of his room you sighed in a mixture of arousal and despair at the way his muscular thighs flexed. He was just so perfect, and by the size of the bulge straining against his boxer briefs he was going to be just as perfect there too.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him back down to smash his lips against yours again, not particularly caring that this kiss was much sloppier than prior. By the way Jungkook groaned against your mouth when your tongue skimmed his, neither did he.

It was even headier now, with his toned chest pressed flush against your breasts. You ground your hips against his with a breathy whine, raking your nails lightly down his back. When you squeezed his ass - yes, it was just as firm as you'd hoped - he bucked forward, driving his cock harder against you. You briefly wondered if you were soaking him through your shorts, then decided you didn't care.

When you began to wiggle out of your shorts, shy Jungkook made his appearance again. He pulled back, eyes wide, though he couldn't stop himself from licking his lips.

"A-are you sure? I was just… kidding," he said, as if you couldn't see his dick leaking through his boxers and you weren't half naked on his bed and begging for his touch. It was cute, but this sweet Jungkook wasn't what you wanted right now. So you pouted and began to push yourself off the bed.

"Fine, then I'll go see if Taehy-oof!"

Your gamble was rewarded as you were immediately forced back onto the bed, Jungkook's hard eyes blazing above you.

"I said you're mine," he growled, giving your nipple a hard pinch. You yelped at the mixture of pain and pleasure, and felt yourself grow impossibly wetter at the edge in his tone. You threaded your hands in his hair to bring him down for a kiss, but he paused, lips hovering over yours. "You're mine, right?"

Despite the aggressiveness of his actions, there was a hint of pleading in his tone, and you couldn't help but smile as your heart fluttered.

"Only if you're mine too," you replied, making his eyes light up. Jungkook had been yours since you had delivered that knock out punch to his nose heart. He closed the distance eagerly, and you lost yourself again in the heat of his lips and tongue. When one of his hands found its way between your legs, he groaned at how damp you were even through layers of cloth.

"Yours," you murmured, rubbing against his hand shamelessly. His eyes flashed and before you could process what was happening, your shorts and underwear were ripped off and you were bare beneath him aside from the robe halfway off your shoulders. His hand went back and you moaned as his fingers dragged along your wet folds before changing course to start rubbing light circles on your clit.

"You're so sexy," Jungkook groaned against your mouth as you bucked your hips forward, chasing the friction. He pressed his middle finger into you, and the sound that you made was almost enough to make him explode then and there. You were so hot and wet and tight around him already, and if you felt this good around a finger he couldn't wait to feel you around his dick.

You licked sloppily into his mouth, rutting against his hand as he pumped his finger in and out of you and swallowed your whimpers. When he added a second finger your breath caught in your throat, nails digging into the skin of his back.

"J-Jungkook," you gasped when he began grinding the heel of his palm against your clit while rubbing his fingers against your walls. He was working you up embarrassingly quickly, and when your orgasm hit it almost took you by surprise. Your body went rigid as waves of pleasure shuddered through you, and Jungkook hissed and pressed wet kisses all over your neck, working you through your high as your walls spasmed around his fingers.

"Wow," was all you managed when you came back to reality. It was partially due to the orgasm, but mostly caused by the beauty of Jungkook's flushed face and disheveled hair hovering above you as his hungry eyes drank you in. You tugged him towards you by his hair and kissed him hard for a moment before pushing him back a little and giving him your best seductress eyes.

"Fuck me now, please," you said sweetly, in a husky voice you were surprised came from you. Jungkook's eyes somehow went even darker and he almost dove to the side of his bed to open his nightstand, retrieving a condom he ripped open in record time. You giggled a little at his eagerness. Until he kicked his boxers off. Dicks were always objectively funny looking even at the best of times. So why did his make your mouth water?

"Is there anything about you that isn't sexy?" you said in a half grumble, making him laugh as he rolled the latex over his tantalizing length. He hovered over you, one hand by your head and another on his cock as he lined himself up, and you reached up to thread your fingers through his silky hair. He smiled down at you, eyes bright. Then he rubbed his tip against your folds and you moaned, tightening your grip.

"If it makes you feel better, everything about you is sexy too," he breathed, eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and lust as his lips fell to capture yours. All you could do was gasp against his mouth as he began to press his cock past your aching folds. Despite how wet you were, it was still a slow, excruciatingly delicious stretch, and he cursed, hips stuttering against yours.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, thrusting lightly in and out to coat himself further in your wetness. The feeling was definitely mutual, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to encourage him to go deeper. When he bottomed out, you both stilled for a moment to get your bearings, though he wasn't sure how much good it did him with you quivering beneath him and your walls hugging him so tightly.

"Please move," you finally whimpered when you couldn't take it anymore, giving a little buck of your hips that had Jungkook hissing. His lips crushed yours again as he began giving slow, measured, pumps that had you arching your chest against his hard pecs. He was glad he'd made you cum once because he didn't really think he was going to be able to last very long. Though that didn't mean he wasn't going to try again.

So when he angled his hips a certain way and you cried out and clenched around him, he maintained that position despite the way his thighs protested. He kept one hand on your waist, locking you in place, and brought his other to rub his thumb lightly against your clit.

"Oh fuuuuck," you groaned, head falling backwards Jungkook worked his magic on you. You were usually content if you could get on top and rub one out with a guy during sex, but this boy seemed determined to ruin you for anyone else and the worst part was that you wanted him to. He was hitting all the right spots and doing all the right things as if you'd been having sex for years, and between the thick drag of his cock and the attention he was giving your clit, you were hurtling towards the edge a second time.

"God, do that again," Jungkook groaned, and you hazily wondered what he was talking about, unable to think past the delicious way he was pounding into you. You didn't realize you were pulling his hair, and when the coil inside you snapped again you gave another hard tug with a desperate whine.

He fucked you through your second high, shuddering at the way your already snug walls squeezed him like a vice. The sounds he was forcing out of your throat were too much, and he felt himself starting to lose it.

"Fuck, [y/n], I'm gonna cum," he cursed, pace growing uneven even as his thrusts became harder and deeper. To his shock, panic, and disappointment, you pushed him off of you and onto his back. Then you ripped off the condom and engulfed him in the confines of your greedy mouth and he gasped, hips stuttering against you.

"Fuckfuckfuck," he choked, spilling himself down your perfect throat as you swallowed around him. Even after he was done, you kept swirling your tongue around his length as he moaned and let his head fall back against his sheets. You gave a little suck that had him whine and thrust against you despite the oversensitivity before you pulled back, looking way too innocent and cheerful for what you had just done.

"Taehyung was right, your cream's pretty good," you said with a wink, and he felt his entire neck and face go red.

"Oh my god," he complained, tackling you back down onto the bed and holding you against his chest as you giggled and wrapped your arms around him. The two of you lay there, snuggling and enjoying the post-coital haze.

"Jungkook?"

"Hm?" he asked a little sleepily, opening his eyes and blushing at the cute way you were looking up at him.

"Did you mean it?" You looked sheepish, and he woke up a little more.

"Mean what?" he asked in confusion, and you flushed, looking uncertain. He brought his hand up to stroke your cheek, trying to reassure you even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was reassuring you about.

"Um… about me being yours. And you being mine," you mumbled shyly, avoiding his eyes. He felt his heart swell at the pink rising on your face, and he couldn't keep the stupid lovestruck smile off his face.

"Of course I did," he replied, holding you tighter and smushing your face into his chest. "You're my girlfriend now, you can't escape." Your muffled laugh was music to his ears, and you hugged him back just as hard until you finally pulled away, complaining you couldn't breathe.

"Okay, boyfriend," you said, eyes sparkling happily. He was elated that he had been the one to put that expression on your face. He was less elated when you began to clamber out of bed after kissing him on the nose.

"Nooo, stay here," he pouted, then tried to pose on the bed in an enticing manner.

"I want to, I really do," you told him ruefully as you blatantly eyed his abs. "But I can't just straight up ditch Mijin when I begged her to come with me."

"Oh yes, the maid of honor," Jungkook said with a nod, mollified by how disappointed you actually sounded. You looked confused for a moment before your attention was drawn by your robe.

"Ah shit, the tape isn't sticky anymore," you grumbled as you futilely slapped the fabric against your chest. Jungkook was momentarily mesmerized by the way it made your breasts jiggle before shaking himself out of his daze.

"I'll wear it, and you can wear mine," he suggested eagerly. It wasn't quite the same as seeing you in his clothes or anything, but it was close. You shrugged in agreement, slipping off the robe - which should not have been as arousing as it was when you were already basically naked - and tossing it towards him as you padded around the room to grab your shorts and the onesie. Jungkook stared at your ass for several enjoyable seconds before going to his dresser to grab some basketball shorts.

"This is… kinda big."

He turned around and felt himself torn between laughing and melting into the floor. You had put on the cookie monster onesie, which was sized for him, and were almost drowning in it. You had rolled up both the sleeves and the legs multiple times and yet it still looked hilariously large on your smaller frame.

"You look perfect," Jungkook promised, making your face flush that pretty pink again. Though you frowned when you looked at Jungkook, who was now wearing basketball shorts and your boxing robe. "What's wrong?"

"I… don't know if I want people seeing how hot you are…" you grumbled, eyes glued to his six-pack. Jungkook's heart fluttered when he realized you were jealous, and he grinned at your adorable pout. He strode up to you, enjoying the way you licked your lips when he cupped your face.

"How do you think I felt seeing Taehyung all over you?" he demanded, making your eyes widen before he bent down to capture your lips. Feeling you melt against him was enough to rile him up all over again, but when his hands began to wander you pushed him back a little.

"Fair enough," you replied breathlessly, sounding incredibly reluctant but firm. "Let's go."

You resolutely marched to his door and pulled it open, only to run into a very irate, very drunk cookie.

"Uh…" you began awkwardly, not exactly sure what this chick was doing here.

"Jungkookie, who is she?" the cookie wailed, pointing at you with a venomous glare. You would've felt more worried had Jungkook not looked so done with his life. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"This is my girlfriend, [y/n]," he said, shooting her point blank with the truth. By the way she reeled backwards, it might as well have been a real bullet. Jungkook took the opportunity to usher you past her, lock his door, then take your hand and tug you to the living. You were impressed at the speed in which he had done everything, and wondered just how many quick escapes he had to make from that girl.

"Nice costume."

You turned to see Mijin, Taehyung, and Jimin smirking at the two of you. A fourth extremely beautiful man had wandered somewhere near the vicinity and brightened when he saw you. Despite the pig nose and the blanket he was wrapped up in, he was still impossibly tall and handsome and broad. This had to be the last super hot guy in Jungkook's friend group, right? It was just impossible for there to be more.

"Oh! Are you Jungkook's mystery punching girl?" he asked cheerfully, seeing you with Jungkook. You blushed at the descriptor, and Mijin chimed in before you could.

"I'm Mijin," said your friend as she shook his hand, utterly unfazed by his weirdness. Well, he was a fucking dime so you supposed you couldn't blame her. The man beamed, making his eyes sparkle.

"Yep. It was love at first fight," she said with a grin, and you rolled your eyes at the terrible pun. To your surprise, the new guy's jaw dropped and he stared at your friend in wonder. Then he elbowed Jimin away from her and held out his hand with a charming smile.

"Then it's meant to be, because me Jin!" he said proudly, pointing at his wide chest and ignoring the way Taehyung facepalmed beside him. Meej chortled, giving his costume a very obvious once-over as Jin snickered at his questionable wit.

"Are you a pig in a blanket?" she asked, clearly vibing with her very handsome, very lame suitor.

"Holy cow! You got it!" Jin said cornily, and you heard Jungkook groan at the guy's terrible joke - considering Mijin's costume was exactly that. A cow with a halo. Unlike the rest of you - including a now pouting Jimin - your friend smiled widely.

"Yeah, can you believe [y/n] told me my costume was lame?" she asked indignantly, making Jin gasp in affront.

"They tried to say the same thing about mine!" he complained in commiseration, and the two of them cast peevish looks at the rest of you. You and Jungkook made eye contact and despite the short time in which you had known each other, you knew exactly what he was thinking. What the fuck is happening?

"Uh… we're gonna get drinks…" said Jungkook slowly, backing away from the two farmyard animals. He took your hand again and the two of you fled the scene, once again almost trampling a bawling Dina.

"That's just the way the cookie crumbles," you heard Mijin remark from behind you. All you heard after that was a weird squeaking, as if someone needed to replace their windshield wipers.

"Jungkook, is it weird to say that those two together scared me more than that maze?" you whispered loudly as he handed you a beer. He shook his head and stared behind him, shuddering.

"To never being that fucking corny," he pledged, holding his own bottle out. You nodded and clinked yours against his and took a much needed gulp. Then, unable to resist, you leaned in to kiss him. It ended up lasting much longer than you had intended, and when you pulled away he had a dreamy smile on his face. "I guess it'll be nice if the best man and the maid of honor are together though."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

Jungkook distracted you with another mind-melting kiss, and by the time he released your lips, your legs were jelly. He noticed the way you were clinging to him and grinned that sweet smile at you before easily picking you up and setting your butt on the counter.

"Better?" he asked, nestling himself between his legs and tilting his head up to look at you upside-down. You giggled and leaned down to give him a peck, then stroked through his hair with your free hand. The two of you watched the party from the relatively quiet confines of the kitchen, where Meej and Jin where getting increasingly close and Jimin was now attempting to avoid the advances of a sad cookie while Taehyung laughed his ass off on the sidelines. It was odd how easily things had come together when you were the last person who would ever willingly enter a haunted corn maze.

Jungkook snuggled his head under your chin and you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and letting your hands rest on his bare sides. Who would have thought getting lured out of the house by the promise of donuts would lead to so much more? You knew Mijin would use this as an excuse to drag you out to more activities, but when Jungkook nuzzled your shoulder you found yourself more excited than chagrined. Fall might be ending, but your time with him was just beginning.

~~~~~

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook smut #autumnleavescollab

[preeningpisces]

Kenjaku NSFW Headcanons

Don’t yell at me please, I have extremely questionable taste

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write something about any of these ♥️

18+ content below, mdni, implied chubby f!reader, dark content

TW: implied non-con, mention of odd kinks

ꕥ Definitely the freakiest freak. Bitch has probably tried everything. Wherever your mind went, the answer is yes, he probably tried that too. This dude is old and bored and has too much free time on his hands; a perfect example of why retirement homes are a thing

ꕥ Very detached the whole time which is unnerving, but also sexy in a way. It’s like he’s just conducting an experiment and observing the results

ꕥ Making him lose his composure, no matter how brief, is one of the hottest things you'll see. Trust meee

ꕥ Their libido is greatly affected by the vessel, even their kinks/preferences are affected. Very aware where his tastes end, and the vessels begins, but he’ll entertain them regardless. Hedonistic mfer

ꕥ Loves figuring out how new bodies work. He has very unique insights about sex because of this, and it makes him surprisingly skilled. He knows his way around very well, and how different preferences can be or how differently ppl can experience pleasure

ꕥ Attracted to intellect & humor—goofy bitches rise up. People who interest him in some way are more likely to be kept around than someone with just a pretty face. He isn’t loving tho, he just likes someone he can fuck around with, and pick apart their brain for entertainment (not literally…I think)

ꕥ Likes that your body is so malleable, and submits to his touch. When he squeezes, his fingers dip into your flesh, as if he's an artist and you're clay—oh so poetic

ꕥ On the topic of submitting: I don’t think he’d be want to be submissive. He’s too egotistical and doesn’t trust other ppl enough. Maybe they’d fuck with it occasionally with someone trustworthy enough

ꕥ Yknow when people say things like ‘my ex used to do this thing with their tongue’ and they don’t really know how to describe what they did, or why it felt so good? That’s what having sex with Kenjaku is like. Lots of odd tricks in that squishy lil brain

ꕥ His dirty talk is direct, smooth and cold. Usually condescending. Again, they’ve got that scientist vibe so everything they say is almost like an observation, but somehow he says it in a sexy way. He’s a manipulator, so he’s good with his words. Also bro has 0 shame, they will say the nastiest shit if the mood strikes them

ꕥ Talkative in bed, kind of like when he fights. What a nerd. Someone shove him in a locker for me. It pertains to whatever you’re doing, don’t get me wrong, he isn’t lecturing you about cursed energy while he’s got you bent over. Probably.

ꕥ Not possessive at all, will totally pimp you out. Very cocky when you quickly realize they aren’t as skilled as him

ꕥ Likes to do shocking things in bed just to toy with you and see how you react. Usually pretty cruel and sadistic when they do these things

ꕥ Toy enthusiast, idgaf. Will tape a vibrator to your clit, get a fucking machine, and just leave you there for hours. He’d probably record it to watch later so he can go do his nefarious plotting and deeds while you suffer

ꕥ Medical kink king, he absolutely fucks with a nice speculum. He’ll strap you down to an examination table & crank you open like it’s a car jack. Inject weird shit into you, maybe some erotic e-stim stuff too

ꕥ I consulted Gege, and he said clit enlargement/pump. He’ll get it all puffed up and raw before going to town on it—both hot and horrifying

ꕥ Breeding kink but in the worst way

ꕥ Very very into fluids & mess: I’ll let you decide what that means LMFAO

ꕥ IDK I just get the vibe he's a whacky and unpredictable in the bedroom because he's all about reactions. He's just a curious lil guy, don't be mad at him

#all 12 kenjaku fans here’s some food #it’s just a granola bar unfortunely :/ #Kenjaku smut #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x you #kenjaku x chubby reader #chubby reader #divider by plutism #tw noncon #dark content #dreams of kenjaku ☁︎ #nightmares ☽ #headcanons ☽ #dreams ☽ #wet dreams ☽

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

I Can Fix That... Pt. 2 | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

author's note: I decided to make a pt. 2 purely for my own enjoyment, though I hope there are others out there as sadistic as myself. I finally watched the Batman trilogy and did research on DC fan pages to write this. It follows the plot of Nolan's DC adaptation so all characters mentioned (like Ra's Al Ghul) are from the comics and movies.

Summary| She gave into Crane because she needed to survive, at least that's what she's tried to tell herself, but there was something about this man that just felt so painfully... right. Now Crane has a proposition and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer because he's starting to like her -- uh oh-- too much. Where will their new agreement lead them when Gotham devolves into chaos?

Warnings| Based on an DC action movie- drugging, slut shaming, fear and terror, dubious kidnapping, restraints, drugs, physical violence, spitting, toxic relationship, mentions of a gun, chaos, and needles. I know- it's a lot.

word count: 8596k (lol oopsies?)

Wires- The Neighborhood 🎶

Where did you sleep last night- Iridium, Salazar, Liam Marks 🎵

Caesar on a TV Screen- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

i 

The detective nodded her head, surprised that she’d so easily forgotten her plan. Dr. Crane sniffed and spun his set of keys around his finger casually. 

“Now the best thing about being the creator of my fear serum,” he started, moving to the shelf of vials he had previously sorted, “is that I have an endless supply and every opportunity to use it whenever I want.” She could hear him smile but she could no longer see him. Crane admittedly liked the girl and he’d fucked her as a minor pivot in his original plan for the night. Now, it was time for business. He pulled a dish of powder from a locked drawer and hid it away from sight as he crossed back into the girl’s view. “You may think you understand what my serum can do, but you’ll never truly know until you try it.” She furrowed her brow and shook her head, wishing that she could back away from him but she couldn’t move. He changed the subject swiftly, not giving her a moment. 

“I applaud you for your performance tonight. I was more than willing to humor you and of course, your present state did you many favors. I like my women tied down…” he joked and chuckled darkly. “But now, we need to get practical.” He removed his glasses and folded them slowly. He slipped them into his breast pocket. “You know too much, Miss —, and we both know that your current allegiance to your job would prioritize a crude sense of justice over your affection for me. We can’t have that, can we? So, I’d like to propose a solution or a treatment of sorts.” He clenched his jaw, angling his head down so that he was looking up at her through his eyelashes. “You’ve already proven to yourself tonight that the mind has complete control over the body. Desire rules judgment… and I want to rule you.” He smiled darkly. Before she could speak, powder was thrown into her face, blocking every orifice with a sickening gas. 

The anxiety was immediate. She saw strange creatures approach her from all sides, poking and prodding her with dirty nails. She saw the walls leak a disgusting fluid, like blood and fecal matter and it spilled over the floor. People sorted through the liquid for scraps, children screamed and cried around her. She’d been one of those children, raised in an orphanage because her parents couldn’t afford to keep her. Strange men swarmed the children, offering toxic treats and money for favors which the children shied away from. She screamed, pulling at her restraints as she tried to fight off the assailants. She shook her head violently side to side, and she screamed involuntarily with raw terror at what she saw. In the midst of a nightmare of Gotham’s poverty and dark underbelly, Dr. Jonathan Crane stood calmly before her. He watched her, his arms crossed against his chest. He cocked his head to the side. 

“What do you see,” he asked calmly. She turned her attention to him like he was a beacon of light in a horrible storm. 

“Jonathan, help me!” She cried. 

“Tell me what you see,” he said again and clucked his tongue to calm her. She looked around again at the people she saw, rummaging through mountains of trash. 

“Horrible… horrible poverty. The things… the things I saw as a child. People starving, children crying…” she whimpered. Rats scrambled across her body and she screamed again, shaking against the table. “Jonathan, please!” She called for him and he waded towards her, oblivious to the horror around him. He stood above her and stroked her face. He removed the restraints from her waist and her wrists and helped her sit up. The things she saw darted out of her peripheral vision, distorted now and hard to understand. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t tell where she was anymore, where her body was in relation to her perspective. Did she even still have a body?

Dr. Crane grunted as he helped her off the table and held her up beside him. She fainted in his arms and he carried her out of the secondary lab into the corridor. He punched the elevator’s call button with his free hand and dragged her inside. As the large steel doors closed, he fished for his cellphone in his pocket and called his driver, telling him to meet him outside the hospital immediately. Crane hushed her, gently patting her head though she was still unconscious. The elevator dropped them at the floor she’d entered on originally and Crane carried her to the side door, ignoring the looks the night attendants gave the strange couple. A sleek black car waited outside in the alley, the engine running and dispelling smoky exhaust into the air around them. Crane opened the car door and helped her inside, smirking at the security guard at the door. 

“Our meeting was successful, thank you officer.” He waved goodnight to the security guard who shifted awkwardly in his seat at the side door. Climbing in after her, Crane leaned over the console to speak with his driver. 

“My apartment, please.” He gave the order sternly, even with the addition of the ‘please,’ and the driver nodded, speeding off into Gotham’s dark streets. His hand rested comfortably on her thigh as he watched her. She started to come to in the backseat, though the effects of the drug had still not worn off. Her breath was fast and she leaned deliriously into Crane’s shoulder, seeking protection from what she saw outside the tinted windows. She was so afraid that she felt safer in the arms of the man that had drugged her, and it would take hours to realize that, but by the time she did, the psychological effects would have already taken root. 

ii 

The car stopped outside of a dark apartment building in one of the only nice parts of town in Gotham city. It was raining as he helped her back out of the car and into the large lobby of his apartment building. She clung to his arm as he led her into an elevator, playing a soft melody that sounded like shrill screams to her intoxicated mind. As the elevator doors opened, effects of the drug began to wane though her heartbeat was still racing. She looked up at Crane’s sharp jaw and how he clenched it as he opened the door to his apartment and pushed her gently inside. 

“I pay my people extra to turn a blind eye to everything that I do. I understand these circumstances appear even more nefarious, being that I have admittedly drugged you and brought you to my apartment. What can I say, I’m a bad feminist.” He smiled darkly and locked the door. 

“When do I stop seeing… these things?” She collapsed into a chair behind her and cradled her head in her hands. 

“The effects will be gone in an hour,” he responded coolly and switched on some of the lights in his modern apartment. The apartment was two stories with a spiral staircase and an elevator that led to the upstairs. She looked around, trying her best to ignore the hallucinations and study the actual apartment itself. 

“You’ll be disappointed to know that I don’t have a lab here, it’s against the building’s codes. I spend very little time here actually, I’m always at Arkham or dealing with detectives… like you. I’m a busy man. Like I already told you, I have plans to ‘treat’ Falcone tomorrow so I’ll need that room free. This is the next best option and I think you’ll find it more comfortable in comparison.” He smirked and flicked a switch, immediately two restraints looped tightly around her wrists, emerging from a panel in the arms of the chair that she hadn’t noticed. Second restraints looped around her ankles, reminding her as her ankles were spread apart that he had removed her underwear. She turned her knees inward, hiding her crotch and scoffing with frustration. 

“Again?” She groaned and pulled at the strong leather material holding her to the chair. 

“You sound disappointed,” Crane observed with a small smirk. “It’s only temporary. I didn’t get a chance to question you back at the lab, so we’ll do that here.” He gestured to his empty apartment and started to walk toward her slowly. His lips curled cruelly as he looked her up and down, strapped to the chair. “So tell me, what do you know?” He whispered and she stopped struggling for a moment. She still felt jumpy and nervous but having him so close relieved some of those feelings. The effects of the drug wore off more but the underlying sense of anxiety and loss of control prompted her to answer honestly.

I know that you are trying to make a powerful drug that mimics fear and so far, you’ve put it in a powder form. It works when ingested in some ways and immediately elicits a response that incapacitates the victim. You want to use it widely, to control Gotham…”

“Right, what else.” He leaned on the arms of the chair, his hands grasped around her wrists. 

“You don’t work for Falcone but you work with someone else. You’ve just been using Falcone’s drug operation to move your own prototypes of the fear serum. You want to be in charge and you know that fear can do whatever you want it to. The mind controls the body,” she recalled a sentence that he had used before he had thrown the powder in her face. “You’re also somehow connected to the missing micro-wave emmitter. I don’t know why but it may help you in some way, how?” She was breathing heavily like she was going to fall asleep. 

“Good work, detective.” 

“What are you using the micro-wave emitter for?” She asked. He chuckled and removed his hands from her wrists, backing up. He approached a small liquor cart and poured himself a drink, straight gin. She continued as he drank. 

“Who are you working with and how do you expect to control Gotham when everyone loses their minds?” She could barely contain her voice, anger and confusion rose into her throat like bile. 

“So many questions…” he swallowed and set down his glass, turning back to her slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to figure that out for yourself?” He raised his eyebrow. 

“The mirco-wave emitter would dry out any water supply that it comes into contact with. Wouldn’t it be easier to poison the water supply, you would reach more people… unless it doesn’t have the same effect when administered in water.” She looked up at him but his face was hard. “That’s why you’ve been using it in a powder, it only works in a powder form. If you dry up the water supply and release the powder into the air, there isn’t a way to combat the effects, is there?” 

Crane smiled and nodded slowly, “right again.” 

“How can you control people who have lost their minds on the serum? You can’t control chaos.” She furrowed her brow and leaned forward, questioning him. Crane cocked his head and studied her for a moment, noticing the last traces of the fear serum leaving her body. 

“Control has many forms, Y/N. The chaos that will come from my serum is planned, its existence is strategically executed.”

“But why are you doing this?” 

“I love it when you get flustered,” he chuckled darkly at her and licked his lips, his eyes rolling before returning to her face. “It’s not just me, I work for a large organization that has been responsible for all historical catastrophes throughout history. We deal in balance, balanced chaos. They hired me because I can control fear, I know how to use it and weaponize it. Gotham needs to be balanced and it cannot be balanced without it first destroying itself. Create a closed environment with the population’s problems and confront them with chaos, the balance will soon be restored.” 

“Who do you work for?” She whispered, her eyes wide. 

“Don’t you mean, who do we work for?” He crouched at her feet and placed his hands on her thighs. He smiled crazily up at her and she leaned away from him. 

“What?” She whispered. 

“I work for the League of Shadows, and now, so do you.” He dug his finger into the soft bottom of her chin and pushed her head up so that she could see the second floor more clearly. 

Standing at the rail were men clad in dark armor. One man stood out from the rest. He wore a black suit and carried a gold-tipped cane. He had long whiskers of gray hair like a mustache and steady cool eyes, deadlier than Crane’s.  

“Good work, Dr. Crane.” The man kept his focus on her and her blood went cold. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss —. We’ve heard so much about you and of course, you’re the one that has caused us so much trouble!” He laughed sarcastically and descended the spiral staircase. 

“Who are you?” She growled. 

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” he smiled and the wrinkles on his face creased, pulling against his eyes. “I see you’ve already become acquainted with Dr. Crane, our very own criminal mastermind.”

“You’re too kind,” Crane smarted back, watching the girl’s face as she tried to take in all of the new information. 

“Now, I have a job proposition to offer you, Miss —. You seem to have figured most of our plan out but I don’t think you understand the complexity of our organization. You see, the League of Shadows is an ancient organization that has balanced the harmony of every major city in the world since the beginning of time. Gotham has gone bad, to the point of no return. Your ‘Batman’ as you call him can’t reverse what has been brewing for years. He never saw what you did, how the people of Gotham live in filth and poverty while the elite few enjoy the spoils. This city needs to be reborn, it needs chaos to restore the balance.”

“But wouldn’t you be killing thousands of innocent people?” She interjected and Al Ghul shrugged slightly. 

“Nobody’s innocent,” he answered quickly and then inhaled, clarifying, “Anyway, that’s not what we want to do here. If we take control of the city and hold it for ransom, we can work out a deal to replace the crooked government with some of our people. I’m offering you a role alongside my people. You’re smart, all that evidence you collected against Crane- none of the senior officers could have held a match to it. We destroyed it of course, as soon as Crane told us about your little visit.” She looked past Al Ghul to Crane who leaned against the wall calmly. Had they destroyed the copies? How could she be sure that they were telling the truth? “The box of evidence you had put aside for Sgt. Gordon was the hardest to find but we found it. What made you suspect Dr. Crane? Was it a gut instinct?” He drew on before she interrupted him. 

“You want me to help you kill people?” She furrowed her brow and nearly laughed in disbelief. 

“We want your help to save Gotham from itself and establish a new and better government.” He corrected, fixing his posture. Crane watched her closely and spoke up from the back of the room. 

“She’ll do it,” he answered and she opened her mouth to interject but his smirk silenced her. “She’ll do it because whether or not she wants to admit it, Miss —, is like us.” Crane reached into his breast pocket and removed his glasses. He cleaned the panels with a dish towel and pushed them onto his nose. She looked between Crane and Al Ghul, her heart beating quickly in her chest. 

“Will you join us, will you help us save Gotham?” Ra’s Al Ghul placed both of his hands on top of his walking stick and shifted his weight evenly between his feet. Crane folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile played on his wide pink lips. Her decision surprised her but the serum had already changed her chemistry, Crane had revealed her true self to herself and there was only one choice left. 

“Yes,” she whispered. 

Crane nodded, “good girl.” 

iii 

She was released from her restraints and she rubbed her wrists where the leather marked them. Ra’s Al Ghul snapped his fingers and a map was rolled out on Crane’s dining room table. The map was of the entire city of Gotham, showing the sewer and water lines. They explained the plan, showing her where the micro-wave emitter would be placed in the city and how it would be moved through each neighborhood. 

“What about the police?” She asked and gestured to the map of the city. Crane laughed and shook his head. 

“You were the only cop that suspected this, the rest will have no idea until it's already started. The person we really need to worry about is Batman,” he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at Al Ghul, “luckily for him, an old friend is coming by to visit.” Al Ghul nodded and smiled kindly at her. 

“Batman and I go way back. I’ll take care of him.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Crane caught himself staring and cleared his throat. 

“You’ll help me with the production of the powder, ensuring that your cop friends don’t figure out too much and keeping Sgt. Gordon away from Arkham or leading him astray… anything,” Crane answered, setting his face as he spoke. She nodded. 

Though they had asked her to join their efforts, they also obviously didn’t trust her completely. They wouldn’t tell her everything, she knew. Her night had gone in a completely different direction than how she had imagined it. Everything had changed after the fear serum, it had shown her that what she feared most had already happened. The police were corrupt, run by small-time gangsters and criminals and crime continued to run rampant as the state lost more and more money, forcing social service organizations to close and more families out on the streets. This whole time she thought that the police could solve the problem but they only caused it. Crane was right, she was like him and she would do anything she could to change the city. After the meeting, Crane poured her a drink and dissolved a packet of powder into the liquor. He stirred it in front of her and Al Ghul before sliding it across the table’s surface. 

“This will put you to sleep for a few hours, twelve at most. It’s only a precaution to make sure that you have truly promised your allegiance to us. Everything that you say will be monitored from this point on.”

“Everything?” She looked at Crane who clenched his jaw, a faint tease of blush spread on his cheeks.

“Everything. Do as we say and follow our rules and you stay alive,” Crane finished and tapped the rim of the glass. “Now drink.” 

“How do I know that you aren’t just poisoning me?” She asked the men around her.

“We’re learning to trust each other, but you have to go first.” He smiled and when Al Ghul said nothing, she took the glass and drank it slowly. The last thing she saw were Crane’s eyes, set perfectly on her. 

She was conscious enough to set her glass down before falling back onto the couch. Crane approached her quickly and checked her pulse, monitoring her reaction to the drug. 

“Did it work?” Ra’s Al Ghul asked behind him and he nodded. 

“Yes, she’s out. Because of all the drugs in her system already, this one may take longer to wear off.” 

“All the other drugs?” Al Ghul raised his eyebrow and Crane chuckled. 

“I couldn’t help myself and besides,” he turned to Al Ghul, “you wanted her alive.” 

“I’m not convinced that we can trust her,” Al Ghul shook his head and pointed at the map for his men to clean up. 

“Oh, I’ll make sure we can.” 

“With your mind tricks?” Al Ghul teased and Crane sighed, rolling his beautiful eyes. 

“Don’t insult me, Ra’s. I know what I’m doing.” He warned the man calmly and nodded to the men. Two men helped carry her body as Crane led them back down the elevator into the lobby which was deserted at that time in the early morning. They climbed into Crane’s waiting car and pulled away from the curb. The girl’s body was limp against the seat and Crane resisted the urge to stare at her, fascinated by her sleeping body. The men carried her up to her apartment on the third floor of a small walkup. Crane rummaged through her coat pockets for the key into her apartment and unlocked the door. 

Her apartment was small and cozy, furnished with minimal couches and chairs. Books and art decorated the walls. Crane pushed through the door and directed the men to lie her down in her bedroom, the small room off of the main living area. They men looked back at him expectantly as he stood by the doorway, watching her sleep. He rolled his eyes and shooed them away. What did they think he was going to do? He’d already fucked her. Alone in her apartment, he stood by her bed and stroked her cheek. She slept on, engulfed by unconscious darkness. He leaned over her slowly and grasped her throat gently, exhaling across her face. He said nothing but looked her up and down and smirked, pleased at the sight of her. He’d won another spoil: her. 

 She woke up in her bed, twisted in the sheets as if she had been restless all night. She was sweaty and hot, the air stuffy around her. Crane and Al Ghul were nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch and hurried out of bed, stripping off her clothes from the night before and into black trousers and a dark blue sweater. She stumbled into the living room and wound her hair up into a claw clip, moving towards the door when a voice startled her. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Crane spoke from the couch. He was in a fresh suit and looked well-rested. He was taking notes in a file on Falcone, his briefcase sat on the coffee table in front of him. She jumped, gasping from shock. 

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?” 

“I was waiting for you to wake up. We have work to do today. That bitch at the DA’s office wants to speak with me. I'm supposed to meet with her this afternoon. She’s questioning Falcone’s transfer.”

“I ordered the transfer after you did Falcone’s interview, maybe I could meet with her instead.” 

“No, I need you to take this file to the judge on Falcone’s case. I can handle her questions.” He stood and held out Falcone’s file. “I already gave my statement at the hearing but this file will confirm my medical opinion, hopefully that will get her off my back.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Do you think Falcone will talk if she speaks with him?” 

“Possibly,” he bent his head side to side and shrugged, “but we aren’t going to find out. Let’s go,” he snapped his briefcase closed and made for the front door. She glanced from the couch to her bedroom.

“Were you watching me all night?” She flushed angrily and followed him. He closed the door suddenly and spun her around, forcing her back against the front door. 

“I can only say this once because they aren’t listening now but as soon as we get in the car, they’ll be monitoring you. I am keeping you alive, Miss —. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive but the second you step away from me, you’re on your own. I know we have an understanding so believe me when I say that I would prefer very much if you didn’t die. Follow my directions because they’re following you.” He said in a harsh whisper, a strand of hair falling into his face. They stared at each other in silence, exchanging breath when he kissed her harshly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly against his lips. He bucked into her hips and she gasped softly against his jaw. And just as quickly, he pulled away, breathing heavily and led her out the door and down the stairs into the waiting car. 

“I’ll need my gun back,” she pointed out as they settled on the backseat. Crane sighed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He opened a small compartment in the car door and retrieved her gun. As he held it out, he took her jaw in his other hand, his thumb pressing into her fleshy cheek. 

“This is where that trust would come in handy, detective.” He whispered darkly. She looked at his lips and then up to his eyes, speechless around him. He watched her struggle for words and chuckled, handing her the gun. “Be careful, Y/N, and remember Ra’s plan.” He looked at her lips and sniffed, slapping the roof of the car. “This is her stop.” 

iv 

She met with the judge who oversaw Falcone’s case and gave him the thick folder. He looked at it briefly before recognizing the information. 

“I appreciate you coming out to speak to me about Falcone’s transfer to Arkham but I cleared everything with Ms. Dawes yesterday. She’s already scheduled a second psychiatrist to meet with Falcone first thing tomorrow morning. She mentioned that she’s also requested Dr. Crane’s case file. Has she seen this?” He waved the folder and she clicked her tongue, shocked that she had scheduled a second opinion and that Crane didn’t know about it.

“I’m not sure, sir. I was the detective working with the prosecution and I was the one who oversaw Dr. Crane’s examination and request for transfer. I can attest to Falcone's mood at the time as well. He screamed nonstop as Crane was trying to conduct a test of sanity. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you saw Dr. Crane’s diagnosis in the aftermath of his transfer. This has updated notes that Dr. Crane shared with me. It might be useful in your deliberation.” She smiled and the judge looked down his nose at the folder. 

“Good point. Thank you, detective. This is helpful.” He opened the folder on his desk and put on his rounded spectacles. 

“Well now that we’ve spoken, I’ll try to catch Dawes and save her the trouble.” She pushed back her chair and brushed off her trousers. 

“Miss —?” The judge called from his desk. 

“Yes, sir?” She looked back.

“Dr. Crane has committed many of Falcone’s men to Arkham in the past few months, is that correct?” 

“Yes,” she nodded and her heart raced. 

“That must be a pretty crazy group.” The judge laughed and went back to the folder, completely missing the pattern. She sighed in relief and left quickly. She started to walk to Arkham, moving so quickly she felt like she may have been running. Dawes had already scheduled a second opinion, meaning that she was probably at Arkham pressuring Crane for his detailed diagnosis. It would take Dawes one second to figure it out so she hoped she could get there quickly enough to do something. She had no plan which she knew was stupid but whatever was bound to happen in the next few hours would be bad and she needed to help Crane. Her phone began to ring and she put it to her ear. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N.”

“Ra’s?”

“Are you on your way to Arkham?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Turn around and go back to your precinct. I want you to stick close to Sgt. Gordon, go where he goes. You’re his top detective so run with it. If anything happens at Arkham, he’ll be there and I want you there with him. Crane will be fine.”

She slowed to a stop, skeptical but wanting to believe what her new boss was telling her, “ok, sir.”

After a second of silence, Ra’s added, “It’s Batman’s birthday and what better way to celebrate a playboy than with chaos?” The call ended before she could respond. 

She spun around and headed straight for the precinct. She spotted Gordon at his desk, working on paperwork. She hurried over and knocked on the door, letting herself in when he waved. 

“Good, I’m glad to see you. I need to run some ideas by you for the Falcone case.” 

“I just dropped off Crane's diagnosis for the judge but he said that Dawes may be seeking a second opinion.” 

“About that -” The intercom went off with a loud screech. 

“Attention all units! Attention all units! Batman was spotted at Arkham Asylum. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. Backup is requested at this time.” The voice repeated with a robotic drone. Sgt. Gordon looked from the speaker to her and grabbed his coat from his chair. 

“We need to get to the asylum right now.” Gordon yelled and she followed him closely, checking that her gun was still secured to her hip. She clipped her badge to her front pocket and pretended to sound confused. 

“Why are we going, Sgt? Do you think this is about Falcone?”

“It might, I’d feel better if I was there to find out; and if Batman is there, someone’s in trouble.” They hurried down the stairs and climbed into a car. Gordon sped away from the precinct and ran red lights. The tires bled across the roads as they came to a screeching halt behind a row of police cars parked outside the Asylum. 

“Why is everyone waiting outside?” She yelled over the noise. An officer standing with his gun aimed at the building yelled back. 

“We’re waiting for backup!”

“They’ll be here soon, sir. We should wait!” She yelled over the noise at the Sgt. 

Gordon looked up at the building and pulled his gun from his holster. He started moving towards the building, looking back to wave her on. 

“I’m going in. You coming?” He called. 

She groaned anxiously beneath her breath before responding, “yes, sir!” They raced up the stairs into the lobby which was left completely vacant. Gordon held up his gun and she followed suit, staying close behind him. She felt the urge to kill him now and find Crane but her gut warned her that someone else was in the room, watching. They walked slowly through the main corridor, past the abandoned security checkpoint, creeping closer to the wide atrium. When they stepped beneath the enormous domed ceiling a loud noise broke through the top of the building. She looked up and covered her face with her forearm to protect her eyes from large shards of falling glass. She saw a large dark blur surround Sgt. Gordon and pull him up to the roof. 

“Sgt. Gordon!” She yelled after him. She knew immediately that the blur was that bastard Batman. A small laugh escaped her mouth as she shook her head and lowered her gun. A group of SWAT ran in seconds later. She pointed at the ceiling with her gun and called them over. 

“He came down and took Sgt. Gordon!”

“Who?” Someone yelled at her and she shook her head, pretending to be unsure. 

“I don’t know! I think it was Batman.” She yelled, adding to their panic. 

“Batman!” Someone shouted and in the moment of distraction, she slipped away into a side corridor. She bolted towards a staircase and stopped at every floor, looking for signs of activity. Her body burned with soreness as she sprinted down each corridor. She wanted to scream his name but her lungs wouldn’t allow her the extra air to do so. She rounded a corner and ran into a group of police. They all started shouting at her until she showed them her badge. 

“I’m a detective- What the hell is going on here?” She yelled. 

“We’re looking for Dr. Crane!”

“Have you seen Sgt. Gordon?” She asked, panting and trying not to panic when they mentioned Crane’s name. “He disappeared and I've been looking for him.”

“No, we haven’t. We got a call that they found drugs in the building and then Batman showed up. Crane was running the operation.” One police officer responded and jerked their head to the side where they were going to run next. “It's down this corridor!”  

“I’ll come with you,” she shouted and led the unit, her gun pointed at the ground. Two large doors were falling off their hinges further down the hallway. The room itself was smokey and gaseous. She looked down from the doorway where there were stairs leading into a cement lined room like an empty indoor pool. Tables were littered with Crane’s fear serum and men that she assumed were dead. Huge vats of liquid marked with a toxic symbol sat on their sides by an open waterline. 

“This is it,” she said to the officer beside her and started to descend the staircase. The smoke made it hard to see so she moved slowly, looking around the floor for Crane’s familiar face. The men she saw were all part of Falcone’s posse who had been hired to help the drug operation run. Something snapped beneath her food and she looked down, seeing Crane’s scarecrow mask which she recognized from his drawing. She picked it up and looked around anxiously, her fingers around the gun shook. Then she saw him. Crane was propped up against a wall and bleeding slightly from the head, a thin trail of blood oozed on the wall behind his head. He was panting and flailing around, his pupils were mere penpoints. He’d been attacked with his own fear powder. She looked around before dropping into a crouch beside him. He recognized her but continued to shake, his eyes darting around her head. 

“Jonathan,” she whispered, “it's me.” 

“Did you find him?” Someone shouted and she yelled back that she had. He raised a judgemental eyebrow, his mouth forming a cuss word. His glasses were gone. 

“Trust me, Crane.” She whispered against his ear and held his wrists together. She took her handcuffs from her belt and handcuffed him. 

v 

She leaned against the wall and tapped her foot anxiously as they strapped him into a white straightjacket. She crossed the room and helped the officer secure the last belt, thankful for any excuse to touch him and remind him that she was still there. Looking up at her, he spat and she flinched slightly. His light eyes were ringed with red swollen skin and she wondered if he really felt betrayed by her. She wiped his spit from her cheek and returned to her place by the wall. 

“So this is the scarecrow,” Sgt. Gordon entered the room and let the door slam shut. Crane jumped from the noise and closed his eyes, taking a deep shaky breath. 

“Scarecrow… scarecrow.” Crane whispered with his eyes closed and shifted within the straightjacket. Sgt. Gordon pulled up a chair, the metal scraping against the floor, bristling Crane into opening his eyes. 

“What was the plan, Crane? How were you going to get the toxin into the air?” Gordon asked calmly and fingered the scarecrow mask. Her stomach turned watching Crane struggle to regain control over his mind. He shook and his eyes darted around the room, landing once or twice on her. She kept a straight face, giving no sign that she was terrified that something would happen to him or she would accidentally reveal something about him that they didn’t already know. When Crane didn’t respond, Gordon continued, his voice rising. 

“Who were you working for?” Gordon pressed and Crane’s eyes snapped to his, a crazy smile pulling at his lips. 

“Oh, it’s too late. You can’t stop it now.” He spoke through shivers, cutting up his words. He smiled at the end and Gordon shook his head. He stood and shoved the mask into her hands. 

“Here. Stay with Crane.” He growled and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the heavy steel door. She looked down at the mask in her hands and hid her smile. There was only one officer left in the room with them and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to come up with a quick plan. 

“Are there any officers outside?” She asked the cop by the door who peeked his head outside the door. 

“No, ma’am.” 

“Good,” she smiled and raised her gun when the door snapped behind him. “Then this should be easy.” She cocked the gun and cornered the officer. “Face the wall,” she ordered and when he turned, she hit him over the head with the butt of her pistol, knocking him unconscious. She quickly handcuffed him and checked outside one last time before running over to Crane. He was still recovering from the toxin, his face set in a deep frown. She began to free him from his restraints, glancing at the door every few seconds. His eyes stayed on her face and he kept muttering things below his breath. When she undid the last restraint he jumped up and it fell from around his shoulders to the floor. She started to smile when he lunged at her and pushed her up against the tiled wall. Her hair clip cracked against the tile and clattered to the floor in pieces. She gasped beneath his hands, one holding her throat and the other grabbing the slack in her sweater, exposing her navel. 

“You betrayed me,” he growled, “you told Gordon... I saw you.” His eyes were wild and glazed, he looked right through her.

“What?” she gasped out though his hand was crushing her windpipe. 

“I saw you two! You fucked him. You fucked him!” He yelled, his body shook with anger like he was coming down from an adrenaline high. 

“No, I didn’t!” She struggled beneath his hands, “this is the toxin talking, Jonathan! I didn’t betray you-”

“But you fucked him,” his voice twisted into a heatbreaking whine, an image flicked before his eyes and he closed them quickly, shaking it from his head.

“No!” She coughed and she could feel herself getting light-headed. 

“You love him,” his voice was breaking beneath him and his eyes darted between hers as the toxin showed him more and more; everything of which included her.

“Jonathan!” she screamed and hit his chest hard with closed fists, “I can’t fucking breathe!” 

His eyes snapped open wider and he released his grip around her throat. Her feet landed on the ground and she coughed, sinking into a crouch against the wall. Crane stepped back and watched her silently. He was still shaking as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair. 

“Why would I save you if I loved him?” She cried in frustration, rubbing her bruised throat. “It’s the toxin, Jonathan… I didn’t do the things you think I did,” her voice softened. She looked up at him and stood slowly, grabbing onto the wall for support. Crane cradled his head in his hands and whimpered. 

“What do you see?” she asked quietly and stepped closer. He shook his head and created more distance between them. “Jonathan, tell me.” She pressed and he exhaled with a soft shutter.

“You… fuck,” he started through heavy breaths, working himself up again. “I see you and Gordon…” He rubbed his eyes and looked back up at her. “It’s been so long since…”

“Since what?” She furrowed her brow, questioning. His eyes darted away into the corner and he shook.

“Since my father last used it…” he took a deep breath and finished his sentence with a lengthy exhale, “on me.” 

“The fear toxin?” She whispered, slowly starting to understand what he was suggesting. He nodded and flinched as if something had attacked him. Was he saying that his father used a prototype of the fear toxin on him? She grabbed onto the sleeve of his suit jacket and tugged his attention away. 

“It’s just me. There’s no one else- nothing else in here except for me,” she gestured to the nearly empty room (the officer was still unconscious in the corner). “And I’m here for you,” she whispered and closed the distance between them, her hands slipped around his small waist beneath his suit jacket. She felt his body tense beneath her embrace before slowly (very slowly) releasing its tension. He didn’t hug her back but rested his forehead on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, and found the shallow wound on the back of his head. She ducked her head as she pulled away, finding his mouth and kissing him gently. The toxin was slowly wearing off and she could tell he was only beginning to return to his normal self. 

“We need to get up to my office,” he muttered and looked at the door. “They’re releasing the patients.”

“What?” She furrowed her brow. Crane sighed and shook his head. 

“Ra’s gave orders to open all of the cells. The patients will be let loose into the city.” He licked his lips and looked down at her. “We need to get upstairs.” His expression was tense as she could tell he was trying to fight the lingering effects of the toxin. She nodded. 

“Show me where to go.” 

He pulled her through the door and they ran down the corridor to an elevator. When the doors opened, Crane used his key to override the system, preventing anyone else from calling the elevator. He pressed the button for the floor with his office, not realizing that his other hand was squeezing tightly around hers. When the doors opened again, they rushed down the hallway and into Crane’s office. He sighed when the door was locked and the blinds closed. 

“What are we going to do?” She asked him quietly and he inhaled slowly. 

“I need to inject you with the antidote so the toxin doesn’t affect you when we leave the building.” He murmured, more to himself.

“We’re going out there?” She tried to keep the fear from her voice but he detected it instantly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Are you scared?” He asked automatically. 

“Of both of us dying out there at the hands of one of your old patients, yes, yes I am.” She nearly laughed. 

“Don’t you want to be part of the fun?” The Jonathan Crane she knew was definitely coming back. 

“I’d rather not become the ‘fun’,” she quipped and he smirked. 

“As you wish.” 

She followed him into his lab and he rummaged through a collection of vials arranged on one of the counters. Finding the right one, he slipped it inside a cartridge of what looked like an epipen. 

“Pull down your pants,” he ordered and then it was her turn to raise her eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that and do what I tell you,” he said sternly and she did as he asked, pulling down her trousers where he had access to her thigh. “This will hurt,” he warned her before immediately plunging the needle into the fat around her thigh. She hissed in pain and heaved out a breath. 

“The good news is that you don’t have to ever do this again,” he patted her leg and buttoned her pants for her. “Now me,” he changed the vial and unbuckled his pants. He raised the hem of his boxers and punctured the needle into his upper thigh. He grunted in pain and closed his eyes for a moment and whistled out a tight breath. A large explosion shook the ground below their feet. She jumped and winced as she landed on her sore leg. Without opening his eyes, Crane nodded. 

“And that would be the patients leaving the building now.” He withdrew the needle and tossed it to the side, buckling his pants. 

“Let me see your head,” she touched his arm and he leaned forward slightly, turning his head where she could see it clearly. She carded her fingers through his dark hair and parted the dark roots away from the shallow wound. “It's a small cut, you’ll live.” 

“Thanks, doctor.” He smirked. Her fingers shifted through his hair as he straightened and she tried not to look disappointed when they were no longer twirled around his black locks. 

“Are you back now?” She looked up into his eyes, looking for trances of fear. 

“I think so,” he responded and traced his index finger around the collar of her sweater. There were small bruises where his fingers had been when he forced her against the wall in his state of panic. “Was I terrible?” He whispered. 

“Not more than usual,” she laughed lightly and covered his hand with hers. “I’m ok.” She insisted and he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips. 

He was going to apologize, he was going to tell her how much he loved her and that was why he had reacted so strongly to the toxin, but the words died on his lips so instead he said, “We should leave before the city goes all the way under.”

“They’ll raise the bridges so no one can leave, it’s too late.” 

Crane chuckled and leaned against the lab table behind him, his fingers grasping around the edge. “And once again, you severely underestimate me. Come on.” 

vi 

“Get on,” Crane held the bridle and gestured for her to mount the large black steed. 

“You’re kidding right?” She looked around at the burning city and then back to the police horse who’d lost its rider. 

“I wish I was,” he sighed and tugged her closer by her waistband, “now giddy-up, Miss —.” He joked flatley and pushed her up onto the saddle. He hoisted himself up after her and sat in front, taking the reins in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed her thighs around the horse's stomach, holding on for dear life. 

“Where the hell did you learn to ride a horse?” She yelled over the panic and she felt him chuckle. 

“Oh, there are a lot of things that you don’t know about me, detective.” He smirked and kicked the horse into action. She gasped and held him tighter as they flew through the violence-strewn streets. She couldn’t imagine how ridiculous they looked to the people of Gotham but under the influence of the fear toxin, she hoped people were more afraid than amused seeing a man in a full suit riding a horse. Crane focused on the route ahead, navigating them through the broken city. 

“Where’s Ra’s?” She yelled into his ear. 

“Forget about him.” He growled and urged the horse faster. 

“Why? What happened?” 

“He tricked me. He didn't just want to impose an arguably better government, he wanted to kill everyone and to kill us too. He tipped off Batman and that’s how Batman found me. He didn't need me after the toxin had been released. He kept you away from me, didn’t he?” He called over his shoulder, leaping over a crashed car. 

“Yes, he told me to go to the precinct instead when I tried to warn you about the DA.” 

“He wanted Batman to find me and he assumed that you’d get stuck here after you followed Gordon. Two birds with one stone. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” He growled and turned the horse onto a side-street and into an alley. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, her grip tightening around Crane as she saw people screaming in the streets. 

“To my father’s house.” 

“How?” His father’s house? After his father had probably done something horrible to him?

“Just hold on,” he warned and flicked the reins again. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the terror in the streets. While some of it gave her pleasure to see the raw side of humanity express itself, it reminded her of what she had seen as a child- the side of people that came out when they needed to survive. 

They rode to the edge of the city and Crane slowed the horse to a stop beside a tall building that looked abandoned. He hopped off of the horse and helped her down, catching her as she forced herself to slip over the saddle. The building was far enough away from the inner-city that it looked like it hadn’t been touched yet by the chaos, though the toxins had definitely reached it. 

“We need to get to the roof,” he informed her calmly and pointed her to the elevator. 

“Another elevator…” she whispered beneath her breath, knowing it wasn’t the right time to mention how much she hated the idea of going into one when the world around them was ending. Crane pressed the button labeled “20R,” and the elevator began to soar up. The elevator had windows that opened into the city. As the elevator climbed, they could see the destruction of Gotham and right across the bridge, normalcy.

“Ra’s is moving the micro-wave emitter by the high speed rail. If his plan goes accordingly, the emitter will poison the other side of the city beneath Wayne tower.” He pointed out the tall Wayne building from their vantage point. “I hate Gotham and I hate Batman, but I think I hate Ra’s Al Ghul more.” He sneered distastefully. “We could have run Gotham…” he sighed and shrugged, “maybe another day.” 

She couldn’t help herself but laugh. Being with Crane had opened her eyes to a new side of herself, one that was dark and masochistic. She liked this side better, way better. She liked thinking that one day she could be in charge, force out all of the government officials that were too dumb or sexist to listen to her. She could lead beside Crane… 

When the elevator doors opened a gust of wind met them. The doors opened onto the roof of the huge building. A helicopter stood in the center of a large bull’s eye, its blades running in circles above their heads. Crane’s hair ruffled in the wind and he squinted his eyes against it. Her mouth fell open in shock and Crane chuckled at her reaction. 

“That’s the funny thing about, trust, detective. I don’t believe in it,” he smirked and beckoned her to the helicopter’s doors. 

“You planned this?” She yelled as he gestured her to climb onto the landing gear. 

“Of course,” he smiled, "I always have a backup plan." Her mary janes slipped across the bars as she climbed and Crane supported her back, guiding her back into the body of the machine. He pulled himself inside after her and collapsed in one of the seats. She tried to orient herself, looking around the small helicopter, landing on the pilot. The pilot nodded at Crane, he was wearing a thick mask and goggles to keep the toxin away. 

“Ready doctor?” The pilot called from the front and Crane nodded breathlessly. He looked at her and clenched his jaw, returning to the version of Crane she knew so well. 

“Yes.”

#cillian murphy #fanfiction #cillian fanfic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane #dc scarecrow #hot scarecrow #young cillian murphy #cillian fluff #robert fischer #batman begins #long reads #multi chap fic #cillian x fem!reader

[ghosty-writes-23]

Incorrect COD Quotes Part. 2

!WARNING!: Suggestive (Slightly spicy) & dark humored content.

Ghosty's Notes: Some of these might be a little suggestive or contain dark humor, so you have been warned, V is my own female OC but can be read as x reader if you prefer that, also thank you so much for the recent support, I was a little hesitant to post these, but seeing how people have been liking them, I promise to make more in the future :)

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

V: *is watching Ghost workout with König* “They are so big and so dumb, and one day I'm gonna top them.”

Soap: “you and me both Lass.” 

*both V and Soap highfive*

----------

Gaz: “I pull women”

Soap: “I pull men.”

V: “i’m gonna pull the fucking trigger in a second.”

Price: *is looking at V horrified*

----------

*V is in Price’s office after a successful mission*

Price: *pats V on the shoulder* “I'm proud of you kid.”

*Alexia play daddy issues by the neighbourhood*

V: *holds back tears and voices cracks slightly* “T-Thanks sir.”

Price: *processed to give her a papa bear hug gently patting her back*

----------

Task Force 141 men: *sees V covered in blood, laughing with an almost psychotic grin on her face*

Ghost: *looks at V with almost hearts in his eyes* “I'm gonna marry that woman one day.

Soap: *chuckles* “Not if I do it first.”

----------

V: *is being help captive by Valeria*

Valeria: *is standing inches away from her face* "tell me everything you know."

V: *giggles like a school girl and would be twirling her fingers in her hair, if her hands weren't tied to the chair* "your eyes are really pretty."

----------

*Task force 141 + V are at their local pub after a mission well done*

Soap + V: *are sitting at the bar slightly intoxicated* 

Ghost + Price: *are playing a game of pool, but are keeping an eye on the two at the bar*

Soap: *finishes his drink* “I bet you can’t do a wheelie on your motorbike right now.”

V: *gasps and looked at him offended* “I will have you know sergeant, I bet I can, watch me.”

Gaz: *who is the most sober out of the three* “Guys, I don’t think that is a good idea.”

V: *is already pulling out her keys and is slightly stumbling to the door* “Oh please Kyle, what could go wrong.”

Gaz: *is slightly worried she is going to try and actually do it* “maybe you killing yourself for one.”

*Before she makes it out the front door V’s keys are suddenly pulled out of her hand*

Price: “I'm taking these until you are sober.”

V: *pouts but nods*

----------

*Both V and König are in his room, V has her legs resting comfortably on his broad shoulders as she brushes her fingers through his hair and König is cleaning his knife from his previous mission*

V: “How is your hair so soft?” *keeps running her fingers through it, pouting slightly*

König: *is thankful she can’t see his face at the moment as it would be the same colour as a tomato* “I don’t know.”

V: *smirks slightly to herself, deciding to tease him slightly and gives his hair a soft tug*

König: *lets out a groan like moan before looking up at her his eyes wide*

V: *is smirking widely before placing a kiss on his forehead* “Cute.”

König:

----------

Price: *takes the task force 141 men + V out on a camping trip*

Gaz: “how much further.” *is close behind Price*

Price: “not that far.” *steps over a fallen log*

V: *rests her head on Ghost shoulder as she is getting a piggyback, because she sprained her ankle standing in a rabbit hole, not even 20 minutes into the camping trip*

Soap: *decides to tease Ghost* “Do you want to switch there L.T, your looking a little tired.”

Ghost: *scoffs quietly under his mask before tightening his grip on V’s thighs slightly* “I’m fine.”

V: *starting humming a tune* “Toss a coin to your witcher, oh valley of plenty”

Ghost: “You watched that TV show with Johnny didn’t you.”

V: *smiles wide and nods* “The song is catchy.”

*By the time they got to the campsite, the whole group was sing toss a coin to your witcher*

----------

©️2023-GhostyWrites22 All Rights Reserved.

❌Please don't repost, translate or copy any of my work without permission.❌

#tw: dark humor #tw: suggestive #cod x original female character #cod #task force 141 x original female character #task force 141 #cod headcanons #incorect quote #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #mw2 #Original female character #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod incorrect quotes #cod mw2 #original female character #cod konig #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #konig call of duty

[dreamandback]

ALWAYS FOREVER (na jaemin)

OH, DARLING, IT'S ALARMING TO THINK OF US APART

synopsis: going to an amusement park for a first date was so like jaemin. fun and lively, and full of memories.

genre: fluff, newly established relationship, non idol!au, college!au

warnings: jaemin x male!reader, featuring/mentions the other dreamies, swearing, mentions alcohol and being drunk, vague mention of heights, food mention, a little sappy towards the end, kissing, overuse of the word fond lmao

word count: 2,025

author's note: sigh, i fell even more in love with jaemin while writing this. dividers by cafekitsune. comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated!

when jaemin asked you out, you had never felt more elated. you spent most of the night picking out your outfit and on the phone with jeno as haechan rummaged through your clothes. he claimed, “you need to look good but not like you’re not trying to look good.” whatever that meant. jeno just sighed over facetime and told you to wear something comfortable and to remember to bring a jacket. haechan, the self-proclaimed genius, suggested you don’t bring one so jaemin could offer you his.

in the end, you threw on a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie. “it’s an amusement park, hyuck. it’s not like he’s taking him to some fancy fucking dinner.” jeno stressed from where he sat in his bed in his dorm, video game lights flashing on his face. haechan just shook his head, claiming jeno had zero fashion sense. he perked up when your phone went off, the brunette jumping in place and ushering you out of your dorm when he read jaemin’s text aloud. “he’s downstairs in the lobby, you idiot, go!” haechan shrieked, pushing you towards the door after throwing you your phone that you miraculously caught.

“i’m going, bye jeno, hyuck! love you guys!” you called out as you closed the door behind you, hearing your best friends bickering as soon as you left. you almost wished the elevator ride down was longer because you weren’t prepared for how good jaemin looked. his hair was still green, dyed on a dare from a drunk chenle and jisung, but he pulled it off. he wore a leather jacket over a hoodie with a pair of jeans. it looked like he had the same idea in mind. he beamed brightly when he noticed you walking towards him, eyes crinkled in that overly endearing way. “hey!” he grinned, taking in your outfit. 

“looks like we decided to match.” he teased, his hand immediately finding your own and linking your fingers. his thumb found a soft rhythm against the back of your hand, calming your nerves ever so slightly. it was like a dream, being with him like this. yes, you’ve held hands before. yes, he’s rubbed circles into your skin. but that was all before you knew he reciprocated your feelings. you could only grin bashfully back at him, entranced by his smile that sparkled like the stars at night. 

the walk to the amusement park wasn’t far, the time flew as jaemin cracked jokes with his odd humor that made you laugh until your stomach hurt. by the time you reached the ticket booth, your face hurt from smiling so hard. when you went to reach for your wallet, jaemin gave you a look. “nuh uh, i asked you out, so i’ll be paying. thank you very much.” he scrunched his nose up at you before a smile broke out on his face again. you held your hands up in defense, letting him do as he pleased. 

he kissed your head before getting the tickets, leaving you with your fluttering heart. you watched him fondly as he chatted animatedly with the vendor, grabbing the slips of paper before beckoning you over. you couldn’t help the skip in your step as you walked next to him, passing through the amusement park gates. an involuntary gasp left you at all the pretty lights, every ride and booth giving off neon hues. jaemin watched you fondly as you took in the sights, the smells, and the people.

“jaem, i’ve never-” you tried, but he beat you to it. “been here at night time, right?” he finished, a cheeky smile pulling at his pretty lips. you stared at him in awe for a moment, hardly believing he remembered that. you had told him that you’d never gone at night when you, him, and mark were drunk off your asses after exams had ended last year. his soft eyes only stared back at you fondly, layers of affection running deep within the warm pools hidden behind long lashes. 

he let out a soft chuckle, pulling you along with him and past the entrance to the park. he scanned the various attractions, one catching his eye and lighting a fire within him. he turned to you abruptly, face serious. you wondered what was wrong at first. “i’m gonna win you the cutest fucking stuffed animal ever.” he said firmly, tugging you behind him as he beelined over to the colorful booth. you let him, staring after him dumbly before breaking into a large grin.

he grinned at your happy chuckling, feeling accomplished. because it was getting late, the booth didn’t have a line. it still had some cute prizes, too. jaemin zeroed in on the bunny nestled in the corner of the prizes, it was a warm brown with a red bow around its neck. he immediately decided that one was going to be yours. the vendor greeted the both of you with a smile, one far too tight-lipped to be genuine, as he set up the cups. if there was anything jaemin was weirdly good at, it was carnival games. 

he slapped some money in the man’s open hand and picked up one of the balls on the counter. the man’s grimace of a smile turned more smug, sure of himself that jaemin wouldn’t knock down each small pyramid of cups. you smiled back at the man, deviously so, and it made him gulp. you watched with satisfaction when jaemin knocked each stack down effortlessly, the man’s mouth opening and closing like a fish. jaemin grinned, asking for the bunny he wanted, presenting it to you proudly once it was within his grasp.

you giggled at his sunny demeanor, finding him so painfully endearing as he pulled you along again. you spent around an hour visiting different booths and games, stopping to grab popcorn or cotton candy. you hummed happily as the wispy candy dissolved on your tongue, scrunching your nose at jaemin when he pressed a sticky kiss to your cheek. he laughed joyfully at you as you wiped the residue off your skin, grinning impishly when you playfully punched his arm.

when your eyes met, it felt like the whole world slowed to a stop, yet sped up all at the same time. the lights from the merry-go-round you stood in front of bounced off jaemin’s hair and skin, lighting him up. the sweet song from the ride vanished as you zoned in on the sugar still clinging to the corner of jaemin’s mouth. you found yourself leaning in, slowly, eyes flickering to the warmth of his. when his eyes lidded, honey brown dazedly looking into yours, you found the confidence to close the gap.

pressing your lips against his skin was all too sweet, electric surges shooting down your arms and into your fingertips. gently, you licked the sugar from his lip before pulling away. when he chased after you, hazy eyes darting between yours, you felt like you could do anything. you gave him a lazy smile, taking in his awe as he continued to gaze at you. this time, you pulled him along, sending him a smile that could rival the sun itself.

the walk to the ferris wheel was quick, with jaemin’s surroundings blurred as his focus remained solely on you. he stumbled over his feet, suddenly having two left ones as he tripped over himself just trying to keep up with his emotions. he tingled where your lips met his skin, he was still trying to catch up to what happened only moments ago as his mind replayed the feeling of your tongue against his lip. 

he was brought back to the present when his back hit the seat of the cabin you chose, suddenly aware you were now off the ground. your hand was still holding his, warm against his cold one. everything about you was so very warm. you made him feel warm, his heart would race just at the thought of you. he didn’t realize he was staring at you, watching your every movement and committing the curve of your face to memory. he felt himself flush when you turned to him, smiling that obscenely soft smile you seemed to reserve for him. 

“what is it, jaem?” you cooed, bringing his hand enclosed by yours to your lips. those pretty lips that felt like flower petals against his skin. he felt himself stutter. the lights from below that poured through the windows of the cabin made you glow, and jaemin felt his breath catch in his throat. you were stunning. “i really like you… like a lot, " he mumbled, holding your hand tighter. his doe eyes were swimming with genuine emotion, and if you looked hard enough, you were sure you’d see hearts floating within them. you grinned fondly at him, squeezing his hand back. “i really like you too, nana.” 

he breathed out slowly in relief, no longer holding it in as he smiled cutely at you. you brought your free hand up to his face, delicately cupping his cheek. your thumb caressed his heated skin slowly as you just looked at him. really looked at him, for all he was. he was the boy who had always been there for you, the one who always helped you study even if he had an exam coming up. he was the boy who helped you mend your broken heart after a breakup in freshmen year, unaware that you fixed the fracture in your chest by falling in love with him.

he was the boy who knew your food and drink orders, the one who’d help soothe your social anxiety when it became too much. he was the boy who sent you songs that reminded him of you. he was the boy of your dreams, and you could hardly believe that he thought the same of you. he was the boy you fell in love with. you both leaned in a little closer, close enough where you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. his gaze flitted between your eyes and mouth, silently begging you to let him kiss you. you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. without warning, you closed the small gap just as your cabin stopped at the top of the ferris wheel.

jaemin felt like his chest was exploding, his heart fighting desperately to escape his ribcage and seek refuge next to yours. you weren’t faring much better, a soft noise spilling from you when jaemin held the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deeper, into the kiss. he gently prodded at your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for permission. you denied him, instead pulling away and enjoying when he chased after you again. the fireworks in your chest never fizzled out, bursting within you as you pressed your forehead against his, catching your breath. his eyes fell shut, fighting the urge to kiss you senseless. 

“i know this is kinda sudden, but will you be my boyfriend?” jaemin panted softly against your lips, pretty eyes searching yours. you beamed at him, radiant and luminous as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “there’s nothing i’d want more than that.” you whispered ecstatically, brushing his hair away from his eyes. he laughed in disbelief, that charming smile back on his face as he stared at you, knowing that this moment was to be over as soon as your cabin met the ground. that didn’t matter though, because he knew that he’d have many more moments with you like this. “i love you.” he finally said, the night sky his witness to his confession. 

“i love you, too.” you said back, still admiring his eyes as they sparkled just for you. “i always will, jaem.” you sealed your promise with another kiss, a chaste one, but it meant just as much. jaemin grinned at you once more, and you were sure it was the prettiest one you’d ever seen. “always and forever.” he promised back. and with that, you knew your heart would be safe with him, for as long as he wanted to hold it.

dreamandback 2024. do not rewrite, repost, modify, or translate.

#jaemin #nct dream #nct #nct dream jaemin #nct jaemin #na jaemin #neo culture technology #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #jaemin x male reader #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you #nct x reader #skz smau #nct x male reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #jaemin fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x you #kpop x male reader #kpop x y/n #kpop fluff

[fdelopera]

Antisemites are going mask-off. And we Jews see you.

So some shit for brains antisemite sent me this message the other day. This is one of several antisemitic Anons I've gotten recently, but this one is the most blatant.

My first response was to taunt them. I thought of writing something like this:

"Hey, you fucking loser, you forgot the part of your Nazi script where you try to deny that the Holocaust happened. Lame ass motherfucker, you can't even get your own lies right. Next time you try harassing a Jew online, at least try to tow the Nazi party line, you white supremacist. Also, you fucking COWARD, how dare you come to my inbox on Anonymous. If you’re going to tell me you wish I would die in a Nazi gas chamber, at least have the common courtesy to tell me your username so I know who I am blocking."

But then, I thought: No. That's not how to respond. Because that's not what this is about.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. Making fun of a stupid a Nazi by telling them that they forgot to deny the Holocaust when they decided to harass me for being a Jew — that is gallows humor of the darkest kind. But a morbidly glib zinger of a reply doesn’t actually address the real issue here.

The real issue is that a lot of you with antisemitic tendencies have been going completely mask-off the last few weeks, and you have been diving headfirst into Jew-hatred.

You are finally feeling liberated to speak the Jew-hating words that you have been dying to say.

You have been practically champing at the bit to tell a Jew that you wished there would be another Holocaust so you could get rid of all those millions of "bad Jews" that you don’t like, and now you feel liberated to scream those words from the rooftops.

Over the last few weeks, we Jews have been watching you, some of you that we considered to be friends, and we’ve seen many of you turn on us and spit out the most vile, hateful things about us.

And we know exactly what you will be doing when the next Nazi craze spreads like wildfire from country to country, throughout cities and towns.

You like to claim that you would have been punching Nazis in the face during World War II. You like to claim that you would have protected us. Some of you even like to claim that you would have sheltered us, like the heroes who hid Anne Frank.

But we know better.

No. That’s all just romantic bullshit that some of you like to tell yourselves to make yourselves feel important.

In reality, you would have been deciding who is a "good Jew" and who is a "bad Jew." You would have been deciding who you should rat out to the police for a reward. You wouldn’t be protecting us! You would be saying, "I really don't like that Jew. I’m going to go tell the Gestapo about them." Or worse, you would be saying, "Oh, that Jew over there, they’re just an animal. They’re barely human. The Nazis can kill them, I don’t care."

Most of the people who turned against their Jewish neighbors in Nazi occupied Europe weren't monstrous, inhuman beasts. Most of them were people, just like you, who had been conditioned to hate Jews by nearly two thousand years of Christian antisemitism coupled with a targeted campaign of white supremacist propaganda. This widespread antisemitism allowed the Nazis to transform an irrational and enculturated feeling of distrust towards Jews into a feeling of intense hatred, where gentiles demonized Jewish people and blamed "those Jews" for all the bad things that were happening in the world.

And the white supremacists are doing it again. And YOU are falling for their trap. Again!

Don't you get it? This is the oldest trick in the book! Periods of antisemitic violence usually erupt every 70-100 years or so, after most of the Jewish elders who hold the living memory of the last genocide have all passed away. And the Holocaust was 80 years ago. And here we are. Again.

And just like the Christians in Europe who turned on their Jewish neighbors, you are starting to turn on us.

You buy into antisemitic conspiracy theories, just like the white supremacists do.

You stand in the streets, screaming "gas the Jews" and "die Jews die."

You sound like the Proud Boys. You sound like Nazis. Do you even hear yourselves???

You pretend that all Jews are all a monolith and a hive mind, and you try to convince yourselves that we are all a proxy for the fucking Israeli government, which the vast majority of Jews fucking despise. If we could, trust me, most of us would strangle Netanyahu with our bare hands.

You celebrate Jewish deaths because you have convinced yourselves that killing a random Jewish civilian is "just the same" as killing Netanyahu, because you have manipulated yourselves into believing that all Jews are the Israeli government.

And you don't see how fucking STUPID that is!!

Jewish people are no more the Israeli government than YOU are YOUR government.

A people are NOT their government.

According to Tumblr statistics, nearly half of you reading this will be from the US. Shall I blame YOU personally for the actions of the US government? Of course fucking not! And you'd better fucking not blame random Jews for Netanyahu!

And some of you Jew-haters, in pretending that Jews are all a monolith and a hive mind, even say vile, antisemitic shit like, "Looks like the Jews are becoming the Nazis."

You choose those words carefully, twisting the Shoah, our greatest tragedy, into a knife. You try to weaponize the slaughter of our people against us. You try to reduce the 6 million of us who were murdered into a white supremacist meme.

YOU SOUND LIKE THE FUCKERS AT A TRUMP RALLY, FOR FUCKS SAKE. DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELVES???

And you do that to dehumanize us. You do that to feel morally superior. You do that to feel less uncomfortable when you laugh at our deaths.

But we know that WE are not becoming Nazis. But YOU are. The reason you say that shit about us is because YOU are projecting YOUR insecurities onto us.

Because you know that you are slowly, insidiously being coopted by the Nazi ideology of David Duke and Richard Spencer.

And perhaps somewhere deep down, you feel uneasy about it. So you accuse Jews of being a monolith, a hive mind, and then you say stupid antisemitic shit like, "Maybe the Jews are the Nazis after all."

And you say that to yourselves so that you can turn off your empathy and celebrate as you watch us die.

What a disgusting way to try to absolve yourselves of YOUR guilt.

And we Jews are watching you. We’re watching you very carefully. And when the dust settles, you will have found that we have vanished from your life.

Very soon, you won’t see us again.

And no, that won't be because we'll be walking into the gas chambers, as much as you'd like us to, like some historical movie about the Holocaust that you watched when you were a child but turned off halfway through because you just didn't care.

NEVER AGAIN MEANS NEVER AGAIN.

As much as we know that you ENJOY watching our deaths (sanitized, of course, with a blur filter over the video so that you don’t have to feel too guilty about watching us being tortured and murdered), that’s not the reason you won’t be seeing us again.

The reason you won’t be seeing us again is because we will be walking out of YOUR life.

You have lost us as friends, and you might not even know it yet.

We are gone from your life, because we know that we can’t trust you.

We know that when the Nazis come to our community and march down the street hoisting their swastikas and doing their Sieg Heils (I've seen it with my own eyes) … when the Nazis harass us Jews in the street (I've seen it with my own eyes) … when the Nazis SHOOT US DEAD (it happened at a synagogue a block away from my synagogue, and many of those who saw it will never open their eyes again) — we know you won’t help us.

You will shove us into the line of fire.

And we know that you’ll absolve your conscience, so you won’t feel too bad about our deaths. You’ll tell yourselves, “It’s okay. Why should I have protected that one? That one was a bad Jew.”

We Jews see you. We see your hypocrisy on full display.

And we are telling you this:

If you see Jewish civilians being tortured and murdered, no matter what country they are from, and your first response is to CELEBRATE … if your first response is to post memes that say shit like, "The Jews fucked around and found out" … if your first response is to say that mass murdering Jews is "brutal but justified" … if your first response is to behave like a Q-Anon believer or a MAGA-hat wearing Republican and treat all Jews like we're a monolith, a hive mind…

When THAT is your response to seeing a tragedy unfolding, you are a FAILED ally, and a FAILED advocate.

You are an antisemite.

But mostly, you are just a really horrible, shitty person.

And we don’t want you in our life.

#jumblr #judaism #jewish #jewblr #a message to the next person who sends antisemitic bullshit to my inbox - at least don't be a fucking coward about it! #sending anon harassment like this is the most chickenshit thing you can do #and no i won't be turning off anon so that if there are more cowards who want to send anon messages i'll be able to block them #oh and as always i'll be monitoring the comments and if anyone posts antisemitic bullshit here i will be reporting and blocking you #antisemitism tw #holocaust tw #shoah tw #nazi tw

[tmntxthings]

一∑ Collection of Lies・゜・。

author’s note: it’s high time for something slightly fluffy, not all the way, but kinda sorta, at least not dead on heart-stomping angst right??? RIGHT???

warnings: crack, cursing, gaslighting, manipulation, slight angst, sprinkle of fluff, attempt at dry humor, unedited

word association: compulsive liars, denial, heartbreak, telephone-game, sarcasm, dramatic flair

song: “ 50 Ways to Die by Train ”

—————————————————————————

When you thought the next couple of weeks were going to be rough. You didn’t think people were going to call you worried about fatal accidents. Not once did this happen. Not twice. An unreasonable amount of times did your friends call you up, texted you, or even barged into your humble abode to question your wellbeing.

It had been heartwarming at first. Cute afterwards. And quickly became annoying and overplayed later on.

You hadn’t been to the lair in a week. You were busy watching a show when Mikey called your phone that night. You answered on the second ring, before you could speak a word, Mikey could be heard wailing. So much so you had to bring the phone away from your ear. You put it on speaker instead.

“Mikey?!?” You shouted over his sobs.

“Y-y/n?!!???!!?” He sounded surprised that you had answered. “Is that really you???” He was all sniffles. “Uh, yeah, you called me!” You reminded him.

“But I thought you were in a plane crash!” He exasperated. You were stunned to say the least. “What???” Was all you could think of.

“You went to Tahiti or at least tried to! But the plane went down and you died!” Michelangelo expounded further, only furthering your confusion. “Mikey, none of those things happened. Who told you that??”

The line went silent for a moment.

A moment more.

“Hello???” You said into the receiver wondering if the call was still going.

“Still here! Hmm! Looks like I got some things mixed up, whoopsy! OH— gotta go Y/n it’s Hypno—“

And just like that the line was dead.

Now that last bit was nothing out of the usual. The turtles all seemed to be perfectly fine with calling you during odd times like fighting a villain.

What was not normal was the death assumption?!

Whatever!

…

The next day.

Donatello texted you.

[ Is it true that you got crushed in the back of a garbage truck? ]

[ .-. no. wtf? ]

[ Thought so. Thanks. ]

[ hey, you can’t just drop that bomb and dip! ]

[ donnie??? ]

[ akwkcjkwpifiowpwjdeppqoddjqk ]

He didn’t text you back until you had just dropped the topic completely.

But you’ll never guess what happened the day after that. April checked up on you! Visiting your apartment, when you had opened the door to greet her, her face instantly looked relieved! Like she was expecting the worse.

“Hey April?” Long into the visit you decided to ask what had been bugging you. “You didn’t hear anything weird like I’d died in a plane or garbage truck did you?” You were sure April had been asked weirder questions.

“No no nothing like that!” She assured. But her eyes darted away after holding contact for three seconds. Your eyes narrowed quickly. “But?” You threw out.

“…but I heard you fell into a pool of cement mix..”

Your eyebrows couldn’t raise any further. Conveniently. Too conveniently. A call buzzed April’s phone, saying it was her mom and she had to rush back home. She spoke over all your hurried questions and thrown out accusations.

This was getting fucking weird!

And Raph, the last person to check-up, had no hopes of getting out of your questions. Because when he landed on your fire escape. Tapping on your window. You didn’t say a peep until he got inside your room. And just as quickly as you let him in, you locked the windowsill. Now you knew Raph could easily break down the wall if he wanted to escape. But that was the thing, he hadn’t really wanted to. In fact he looked pretty torn up whenever you asked who had spread the rumor “that you had been eaten by a lion.”

A fucking. LION. Where in New York City would I—

“At the zoo!” Raph said tapping his index fingers together meekly.

“Raph, just tell me what I want to hear.”

You had a pretty good guess as to who was behind what now but you needed the affirmation that you weren’t just going batshit crazy.

“It’s…”

“Well…”

You wanted to pull out your hair!! He was being torturously slow. “Spit it out Raphala!”

“Ever since last week Leo’s been acting so weird! And every time we ask why you’re not hanging around or coming over he keeps giving us these weirdly detailed responses about…well how you died!” He says this in one big breath, like he couldn’t get it out fast enough.

You had clued in on it being Leo, but it was just too childish. All because you had broken up with him? He was going this far??

Raph watched as the gears in your head turned. As your expression grew harsher. He cleared his throat. “Ya know.. Raph thinks Leo’s pretty torn up about the whole thing. He won’t admit that you two broke up. He’ll say anything other than that.”

Oh boy had he. Raph thought it was helping to provide the list of lies Leo had fed them all this past week, ‘That you had:

Met a shark underwater,

Drowned in a hot tub,

Fried getting a suntan,

Struck by lightning,

Fell down a flight of stairs,

Caught in a mudslide,

Run over by a crappy minivan,

Danced to death at an east-side night club.’

By the time Raph noticed this wasn’t helping whatever case he was trying to build he coughed and went back on track. “What Raph is trying to say, is Leo’s in denial. Bad. What happened between you two?? If you don’t mind Raph asking..”

You sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s for his own good Raph, a case of the right person, wrong time.” Your eyes were set in stone on that one. Raph nodded in understanding. “A-and I didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings so I was pretty honest.. maybe brutally..”

You rubbed the back of your neck. You hadn’t wanted to give him any hope. As mean as that sounded. If he wanted a chance in the future with you, then he needed to seriously focus on himself for now. At least that’s what you had thought. Leo obviously didn’t agree. You smiled at his pranks now. Rolling your eyes at the drama of it all.

“I don’t want there to be any hard feelings Raph, especially between all of you.. Mikey, Donnie, April.. you guys are my friends!”

Raph gave you a soft smile. Nodding. “And you’re ours. He just needs more time. The lies were pretty unbelievable to begin with but ya know, we had to check just in case!” He gave you a teasing wink before standing and going over to the window. He unlocked it and you watched from your seat.

“Tell him, he’s being ridiculous!” You called as Raph gingerly maneuvered out of your window.

“Oh he knows that already.” Raph assured.

You got up, racing to the window to watch Raph take off to the building next door. “Tell him… he’ll be okay.” It was spoken low, but you knew Raph heard it as he jumped from your building to the next.

You closed the window. Locking it.

Wondering how many more ways you would die.

—————————————————————————

。・゜・。{ Leo’s POV }。・゜・。

He heard fractions of words.

His heart was paralyzed.

“…Meant to be…It’s me not you….For your own good…”

Words from your lips.

Hurting him. Stinging his heart and pride.

Whatever. He didn’t care. It’s cool.

How could you leave him??? The two of you were perfect! It was meant to be! You wanted space??? Fine! He’d go on like this never had happened in the first place.

So when his brothers asked where you were? Since ya know the two of you had been attached at the hip for so long! He lied. Lied recklessly. Lied habitually. Lied in detail with intensive background. He didn’t care as long as it meant he didn’t have to say the words “broken up.”

He’d never ever admit to that.

“Huh? Y/n? Oh she took a trip to the Sahara, Desert and dried up! Yeah just poof sand!”

Okay maybe they weren’t the best lies ever created. But it got the job done. It spelled out, “don’t ask.” And yet all his brothers kept doing was just that. Like they were expecting him to finally say something different.

Like he was going to say how disappointed he was. Not even in you. But in himself. For not changing, not seeing the signs, not doing enough before it was too late and now the consequences were at his shell.

Leo sighed, flipping a page of a Jupiter Jim comic without even really reading it. He wasn’t good at goodbyes. You knew that. Surely you knew this was how it would be. What was worse, Leo still wanted you. Wished for you to be back already. Missed you. He still had some of your things too! But until you saw the error you drastically made, or he somehow lost his big old ego! Things were at a standstill and he surely wouldn’t quit lying…

Until he ran out of them. That and ways to say ‘die.’

—————————————————————————

#tmnt leonardo #leonardo #tmnt leo #leonardo hamato #leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #leonardo x you #rise leo #rottmnt leo #leo #leo x you #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt fandom #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo x you #rise leonardo x you #rise leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2018 #song inspired

[domripley]

Joey Nsfw Alphabet

pairing: joey (abigail 2024) x reader

warnings: mentions cnc, mentions piss kink, mentions cuckolding. also mentions joey x rickles and sammy x joey

edited by my lovely girlfriend @specialinterestshows 🥰

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Joey will make sure you drink water during sex and after it is no exception. She’ll massage your back once you’ve peed, and afterwards she’ll pick out pajamas for you to sleep in. If you need something to eat, she’ll make you something easy, not wanting to be too loud at night.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Joey’s favorite body part on herself has to be both her fingers and thighs. She loves her fingers because of how good they make you feel. Her fingers are long and thin and she loves watching them slide in and out of you.

Joey loves her thighs because of how she’s made them look with her workout routine. She is proud of the progress she’s made with them, but she also enjoys making you ride her thighs (as well as making you clean the mess you’ve made with your tongue.)

On you, Joey loves your tongue. On her pussy, all over her body, she never hesitates to tell you that she wants you to make her come with it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Joey loves cum.

She loves coming on your face, licking it off you after she pulls away from you. Joey loves when you come on her face, fingers, and any toys she decides to use on you. She loves telling you how pretty you look when you come.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Joey loves the idea of sharing you with either Sammy or Rickles (or both). She wants to watch others make you feel good, and it gets her going, imagining them making you come.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Joey is very experienced in a lot of things. She knows what she’s doing and you’re in very good hands.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) She doesn’t have a favorite because she loves almost all the positions that are comfortable. Her go-to position would have to be cowgirl; she loves watching you ride her. Another position she also loves is fucking you while you’re both on your sides, especially when she’s fucking your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) When doing a scene that calls for her to be serious, she’s serious. Other than that, she doesn’t mind laughing and joking with you while she’s fucking you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Joey doesn’t shave and she has never found the need to even trim. She also really loves body hair on other people.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) When it’s much softer sex, she takes her time making sure to make you feel good and come over and over again until you can’t anymore.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Joey masturbates at least twice a day when she’s away from you. When she’s with you, though, she doesn’t need to; Joey can and will fuck you multiple times a day.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Oh, Joey has so many kinks, but her main ones are: CNC, Puppy Play, Anal Only, Piss, Cuckolding, and Voyeurism.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Joey will only fuck you in her bedroom at night. She doesn’t want her son, Caleb, walking in. When he’s not home during the day, she’ll fuck you in the living room and the bathroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) You are her motivation. All she has to do is think about how pretty you look when you’re begging her to let you come and she’s turned on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) She will not sub or bottom for anyone. Joey will also not do anything you’re uncomfortable with, even if it’s one of her main kinks. She respects your boundaries and always wants you to feel safe and comfortable with her.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oh, Joey is so good at giving - and she prefers it. If you’re nervous, she’ll reassure you that you’re okay and that you’re safe. She genuinely enjoys giving for her own pleasure, but she will never say no to receiving. She especially loves to sit on your face when she’s domming you, edging you often while she does it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Joey is mostly fast and rough with her pace when fucking you, but sometimes she loves to switch things up and be soft with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Although she does do quickies with you, she isn’t a big fan of them. Joey would rather take her time with you and she hates feeling rushed.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Joey is always down to try new things, especially if it’s things you’ve never done before.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) During the day when the two of you are alone in her house, your rounds can last up to an hour or two (with both water and bathroom breaks). The two of you sometimes go two or three rounds throughout the day. But at night, Joey and you usually only go one round that lasts from thirty minutes to an hour.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Joey has a collection of toys. Everything from buttplugs to dildos to vibrators. She also has handcuffs and rope for when she wants to tie you up - along with a few rolls of bondage tape, but she’s not the biggest fan of it. During a CNC scene, she prefers to use duct tape if you’re okay with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Joey loves to tease you and although she has a hard time keeping her hands off you, she can go hours without touching you if it means she’s able to tease you. She loves how needy you get when she’s been teasing you all day.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Joey isn’t loud at all when she’s fucking you except for breathing heavy. She’ll degrade you and praise you while she’s fucking you. When you’re eating her out, she does get loud, often having to cover her own mouth as you make her come at night. During the day, she doesn’t care how loud she’s being.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Joey has thought about fucking you when you’re being a brat. She occasionally fucks Sammy and Rickles and she’s sure that either of them would be down to help her with this idea.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) She’ll sometimes pack when you’re on a mission with her just so she can fuck you quickly in a different room.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Joey’s sex drive is so high, it sometimes surprises you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Once she’s fed you and has helped you clean yourself up, she’s up for a bit before falling asleep. Joey is usually up preparing for tomorrow: making Caleb’s lunch for school the next day, putting his clothes out for him, and kissing him goodnight before climbing back into bed with you. She wants to make sure you’re completely okay before falling asleep.

#joey x reader #abigail 2024 #my writing #mine

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] A oldie from 2021. I did a little editing so if it seems different... that's because it is. [ SYNOPSIS ] You and your slutty boyfriend decide to smoke weed and fuck on his ugly couch. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, marijuana, dubcon (fucking under the influence), hair pulling, oral sex (f + m receiving), unprotected sex, general Zeke bossiness, weed-induced paranoia, teasing, he finishes in your mouth.

“So… How annoying should I expect you to be?” 

You were sitting on Zeke’s hideous suede green couch, playing with his lighter. The blonde was planted on the floor between your legs, hunched over his equally hideous oak coffee table.

“You want me to quantify how annoying I am going to be?”

You giggled and watched as he folded a crutch for the joint. It was cute how focused he was under the effects of two edibles. Brownies, to be specific. You had baked them yourself so the potency of said brownies was essentially a mystery.

Initially due to overwhelming impatience, the two of you thought they were shit and that you managed to bake plain, unexciting brownies. It wasn’t until Zeke was being significantly sweeter than usual and you were hyperaware of your fingers that you realized the brownies were a success.

“Did I stutter?” you asked, pressing your hand against Zeke’s back.

He wore a plain black v-neck that clung to his body. You couldn’t help but touch him in some way. You dragged your thumb down his spine. He shivered and you yanked your hand away.

He paused and turned to you, eyes filled with concern.. “Is there something on my back?”

“… Me? I was.”

“Oh. I thought a small animal was crawling on me.”

“I mean… It might as well have been.”

He shook his head. “No, I pictured like a small deer.”

“How high are you?”

He sprinkled weed into a rolling paper. “Not high enough.”

You peeked over his shoulders to get a view of his nimble fingers.

“Shit,” he whispered. 

You were wrong to assume he would retain his dexterity. The joint looked folded rather than rolled.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you asked.

You were legitimately not sure. It pained you to lack faith, but his jumbled hands were hardly promising.

“I—I don’t know. I really… I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Do you, like…” Your brain grew slower by the second. “Like, do you need...”

“Help?”

“Yeeeeaaaaaah,” you drawled. The word melted out of your mouth.

Zeke sighed and unfolded the joint.

“I’ll be fine. I got this. I’m going to do great. I just have to pretend that these are my own hands.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Sweetie, those are your hands.”

“I’m well aware. They don’t feel like mine though.”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing you said would quell his anxiety. You rubbed his back, massaging your thumbs between his shoulder blades. A muted groan wriggled free from the depths of his chest.

“Fuck. That feels good.”

You let your hands roam past his shoulders, down his chest. You started to tug at his shirt.

His calloused hand grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Take it off,” you purred.

“Why?”

He went back to rolling the joint. He had greater success this time around. The joint was actually conical in shape. Not a depressingly flat rectangle.

“I don’t know. It’ll be fun?” You didn’t have a good reason, but it wasn’t like you needed one. You just wanted him as close to naked as possible. “Please humor me,” you continued. “I made the brownies. The least you could do is walk around shirtless.”

He shook his head and handed you the joint over his shoulder.

“Please?” you begged.

“This is demeaning,” he said, smirking.

He stood up and proceeded to take off his shirt. You stared at his god-like figure, unable to hide your lust. He blushed.

“Here.” He handed his shirt to you. “To my biggest fan.”

You held it like it was an Oscar. “Wow. This is truly a moment in history. People will be talking about this forever.”

“I can’t wait for the retrospective article in ten years.”

“Oh, it’s going to be incredible. I’m going to overanalyze this moment so fucking hard.”

“Heh. Hard.”

“Seriously?”

“What?” He sat down beside you and put his head on your shoulder. “Are you going to light that?”

You looked at the joint in your hand. “Did you hand me this?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes and held the joint between your lips, ready to light it.

“Wrong end, pet.”

You looked down and noticed you were two centimeters from fucking everything up.

“Thank you.” You proceeded to light the joint properly. You took a long drag and let the smoke drift from your mouth. “That’s good.”

You handed the joint to Zeke. He took a hit and exhaled, tossing his head back.

“It’s awful.” He hit it again, longer this time.

“Really? Awful, huh?”

“The worst weed I’ve smoked.”

“Can I?” You reached for the joint but he held it out of reach.

“No, no, no. It’s horrible after a couple hits. You wouldn’t like it.”

You stretched yourself over his lap trying to grab the joint. He laughed at your pitiful attempt. You looked like you were body surfing.

“Alright, fine. Since you’re so desperate.” He pulled on the back of your shirt, lifting you up. Rather than body surfing you now looked like a sea lion performing for a snack. He held the joint to your face and you inhaled eagerly.

“That’s good shit. It smells nice.” You took another hit. Zeke let go of your shirt and gently laid you back down on his lap.

“I was definitely expecting something disgusting. But I always expect something disgusting, don’t I?… I’m gross. I’m a garbage man. Don’t look at me.”

“I wasn’t. I can’t from this angle.” 

You were in fact facing away from him.

“Good. You shouldn’t look at someone like me. I’m… Ugh.”

“Are you going to be okay? Like, seriously? I’m concerned-ish.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He finally took a hit. “I just don’t understand why I was born, that’s all.”

You flipped over so you could look up at him. He gazed down at you.

“Please don’t look at me from this angle. You can see right up my nose.”

“You’re so self-conscious.” You sat up and started to toy with his hair.

“I don’t know what’s up there… My secrets could start leaking out.”

“You’re such a weenie. Gimme that.”

Zeke didn’t protest. He relinquished the joint. You took a drag and an idea hit you like a sledgehammer.

“Shotgun.”

“Oh, no. I cannot drive anywhere.”

“No, Zeke, I’m not calling ‘shotgun’. I’m saying shotgun. As in, ‘Let's shotgun this weed.’”

He looked at you like a perplexed puppy. He clearly didn’t understand.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god.” 

You took another hit off the joint and turned his head towards yours. You placed your lips on his. You slowly breathed the smoke into his mouth. You pulled away and he exhaled. He met your eyes, but averted your gaze soon after.

“Don’t look at me.”

“You’re so sensitive.”

“It’s like you’re judging everything I do.”

You hit the joint. “What? No. I am totally staring at you and shit, but not out of judgment. More out of, like, I’m a huge pervert or whatever.”

He gave you an impish grin. You fucked up. You shouldn’t have admitted to such a thing.

“Is that why you wanted my shirt off?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me.” He stood up like he was giving a presentation and pulled off his grey sweatpants revealing his navy blue briefs. You were entranced by his shapely thighs. “Is this what you wanted?” He did a 360 degree turn so you could get a good look at his body.

“Hmm. Not quite.” You took a hit.

“What do I need to do?”

“You still have socks on.”

He took them off. You hit the joint again.

“Glasses,” you purred, letting the smoke roll out of your mouth.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

He took them off and placed them on the coffee table.

“Undies.”

He went to take them off, but stopped. “Hold on! Wait a minute. Nope. What is this?” It was like he woke up from a dream.

“Sorry, I took it too far. Let me get on your level. It’s only fair. Here. Finish this.”

You passed Zeke the rest of the joint. There wasn’t much left at this point. You shed all your clothes minus your bra and underwear.

“Alright.” He held the joint in his mouth and stripped off his underwear.

“Whoa! You, uh. I was kidding…” You paused and let your eyes wander down his body. “For the most part.”

His erect cock stared you down. Beautifully veiny with a pleasant pink hue, framed by trimmed blond pubic hair. It was picturesque.

You clasped your hands. “I swear every time I see it feels like the first time.”

The smug fucker smirked and finished off the joint. He stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table.

“You gonna take care of it?”

You nodded and quickly undressed. He walked over to you, stroking himself, as you reclined on the couch like a lounging goddess. You outstretched your arms and pulled him into your embrace. You kissed him, shoving your tongue into his mouth without warning. He hesitated for a moment but quickly reciprocated. He was operating on a slight delay. You felt the tip of his cock gently prod your glistening cunt.

“Not yet,” you murmured. “Go down on me.”

He lowered himself, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He pulled down your underwear. He traced his tongue down your folds. His beard tickled your thighs. A small moan left your lips. You held his head in place, letting your fingers get tangled in his hair.

“Pull on it,” he demanded as he bit on the inside of your thigh. 

You clutched a chunk of his hair and pulled. He let out a voracious groan and gave your clit long, languid licks. A whiny moan burst past your lips.

You paused. “Shit. Was that loud?”

He stopped and looked up at you. “No. At least I don’t think so. Why? Did you hear something?”

“No… At least I don’t think I did.”

You stared at each other. The fear began to take hold.

“Hold on,” Zeke said in a comically authoritative tone.

He stood up and slowly approached the door.

“Do not open the door. You’re scary hard right now,” you hissed.

“I’m not gonna open it. I… am gonna glance through the peephole.”

He peered through the hole. And there was nothing. Not a soul.

“Oof. We’re losing it, pet.”

He walked over to you and went back to work as if nothing happened. He swirled his tongue around your clit, this time applying more pressure. He wanted to hear you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, Zeke. Don’t stop!”

He didn’t. Waves of pleasure came over you. You bucked your hips against his mouth. You craved penetration; you felt like you would perish without it.

“Need your cock,” you mewled.

He lifted himself up and lorded over your body, leaving you in the shadow of his. He pushed two of his rough fingers inside your dripping cunt

“You’re so wet,” he said, curling his fingers and pressing the pads of them up against your walls. “And so easy. I thought I might have to work for it considering you’re high.”

“Don’t be mean,” you whimpered.

“Then don’t make it so much fun,” he replied before lightly biting your neck.

His hot breath against your skin was driving you wild.

“Do you want my cock inside you?”

You nodded, your eyes wide and needy.

“Say it. Say you want my cock inside you.”

“I want your cock inside me. Please.”

“Attagirl,” he grunted as he guided his cock inside you.

Once it was fully ensheathed he began to thrust. His balls clapped against your taint as he picked up the pace, his tip pressing up against your cervix.

“Fuck!” you yelped.

Zeke angled your hips upward and drove his cock into you. Ecstasy flooded your core. He held you closer to his body, his thrusts growing in urgency. His breathing labored. He caressed your breasts, his long fingers pinching your nipple.

“I’m close,” he choked out. His grey eyes were hazy with arousal.

“You can wait,” you exhaled.

He groaned and continued to plunge his length into you. His fingernails dug into your hips, adding to your bliss. You grabbed onto his ass and rutted up against him. Your orgasm overwhelmed you and left you seeing stars. You felt like you were hovering above the couch, your pleasure letting you defy the laws of gravity. Though that was probably the weed more than your orgasm.

“Open your mouth. Now,” he commanded, releasing you from the mindless rapture you were lost in.

You did as you were told, getting into position. You hungrily sucked on his cock, milking every drop of cum from him. It flooded your mouth, trickles of it spilling down your chin and onto your chest.

 “Such a messy little thing, aren’t you?”

You wiped your mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. “Not my fault you shoot a huge load.”

He grabbed his shirt and tenderly cleaned you up.

“What the fuck, Zeke?”

He tossed the shirt aside and gave you a confused look, eyebrows raised.

“What did I do?”

“You just got cum all over my award.”

You both stared at the dejected black shirt crumpled on the floor.

“My bad, pet,” he said, scratching behind his ear.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #.fics #.aot #.zeke #x reader #reader insert