Somehow they fill the void @badumpum - Tumblr Blog

caught on camera

rindou haitani x afab! reader

2.7k words

summary: tired of being ignored for a late-night match, you take matters into your own hands.

little did you know that a frantic clash against the keyboard accidentally clicks his webcam wide open, giving his teammates a front-row seat to the entire thing.

tags: mdni 18+, desk sex, unprotected sex, established relationship, exhibitionism (accidental camera stream), voyeurism, guys being a pervy (sanzu and ran), pet names, handjob, spitting

🎴🎌 ctto of this scrumptious rindou fanart i stumbled upon on (っ'ཀ')っ ♡

badumpum

If he was real railing him up everyday would be my hobby

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #rindou haitani #rindou haitani x reader

puck-luck

hello!!, wondering if i can order a mocha with juraj slafkovsky, peppermint (roommates to lovers) and vanilla syrup (maybe some oral m receiving)

hi! i hope the ending of this isn't too much of a blue ball but it was a perfect place to stop (i'm going to dinner with the fam)

“Slaf!” you shout from the entryway, bothered and annoyed by your roommate’s inability to pull his weight around the apartment. You asked him this morning to take the trash down the hall to the chute and it’s still sitting by the front door when you returned from work.

badumpum

The fact I've read this like 4 times already. I come back to this everyday.

#juraj slafkovský #juraj slafkovsky x reader #andy writes anything🍄#juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky smut

newtsniffles

BETWEEN YOUR EYES

the jackal x oc

chapter one

WARNING: this fanfiction will contain mature scenes, violence, and coarse language.

word count: 1.6k, a short set-up chapter. enjoy!

if you enjoy this fanfiction, please don't forget to interact.

CHAPTER ONE: ONE SHOT, ONE KILL.

Grace McCarron loved the smell of coffee. Especially in the early mornings when the sun hadn’t risen and the streets were still wet with last night’s rain. It irked her though, how people could be so loud at such an early hour. Couldn’t people just be quiet? Talk at a normal volume, it was only the hour of six.

The blonde’s fingers rap against the counter in a steady rhythm. Her expression reads neutral as she watches the customers enjoying their breakfasts, discussing work projects and gossip. It was all so mundane, every word they said was capable of drawing a yawn from her lips. Nobody is interesting this morning.

With a sigh, Grace reaches under the counter for the remote, flicking on the television in the corner. Her head tilts, blue eyes sparkling with intense focus at the headline written across the lower third of the screen.

Manfred Fest assassinated.

Grace’s eyes narrow, something interesting. Her attention is only being drawn away by the sound of a customer waiting to order. A young woman, brunette, she’d be mid-twenties.

‘It’s horrible isn’t it?’ The woman says.

‘I’m on the fence,’ Grace admits. ‘What can I get for you?’

‘A latte, please… You don’t think it’s bad?’

‘That a fascist offended somebody and got himself killed? Not really.’ Grace presses the coffee, clicking it into the machine before foaming the milk. With practised expertise, she fills a takeaway cup with the espresso and milk, creating lines of art on the top.

‘I don’t know much about foreign politics,’ the woman taps her card.

‘Take it from me, be glad he won’t be the new German Chancellor.’

Grace’s attention is brought back to the screen as the customer walks away with her latte. A single sniper shot from a distance of over three kilometres. Impressive. More than. The corners of her lips tilt into a small grin, leaning back onto the counter with crossed arms, she watches the news report.

It had started raining again, like it usually did in London. The sound of tires driving over the slick roads was comforting to Grace. Red brake lights reflected in the puddles by the footpath, headlights and street lamps casting a warm hue despite the darkening sky. She loved the rain, the sound of it pattering against whatever surface. However, it did make it hard to get a decent line of sight. Her lips quirked slightly, a lover of challenge. One blue eye closed, a glint of thrill in the other as it stared through the scope of a personalised sniper rifle.

Sleeping with the blinds open, Grace could never understand it, but it certainly helped her in this case. The target laid across his bed, his thumb scrolling across the screen of his phone. The lights in his apartment were on, everything visible. He was so stupidly vulnerable. She could’ve shot six times over by now, but would there be any fun in that? Her finger taps against the trigger as she recalls the deviance of the sleazy man. The world would be better off without him.

BANG. One shot, one kill.

Grace pulls her head back from the sniper, standing up, she starts to pack down the rifle. Her eyes don’t leave the window of the now-deceased target as she unscrews the barrel, packing it all into a case. She hurries downstairs, unlocking her car and driving off swiftly. Chances are nobody would find him until morning, but it is still safer to get away as quickly as possible.

The internet cafe was practically dead at this hour, a lone stranger or two. It had started to rain outside again, Grace could hear it on the roof, see it on the windows. It was also a Wednesday, unlikely that it would be busy. She plugs a USB into one of the many PCs, accessing Dark Core.

Access Chatroom:

Username: xxxfOxTROT22971x$

Password: ************

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___ job complete.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___he will not bother you anymore.

FPOxENT779X___thank you.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___yes.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908 one new message.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Big admirers of your work. Have project we think will interest you. Superlative remuneration.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i don’t work for money.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___What do you work for?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___enforcement of consequence.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___There is a man who needs to face consequences.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Can’t talk here.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Will you meet in person?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___where?

Grace sits back in her seat, her finger traces her bottom lip as she waits for a response. This was an odd one, but they seem insistent. For them to know of her work, they had to have communication with sources she had helped in the past.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Will make a transfer of good will. Location attached.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___tomorrow morning.

Logout.

A sum of $10,000 has been transferred to your account.

A transfer message has been left.

Grace shuts down the computer, taking out the USB, she packs it into her handbag. Her lips quirk as she exits the internet cafe. Something new, something interesting, a potential challenge. This calls for a stop at that delicious dessert bar down the road from her apartment, a nice meringue or maybe some ice cream would do.

For once the sun was out in London, albeit only slightly, but it did still make Grace look less ridiculous for wearing a cap and sunglasses. She notices a woman sitting on the park bench, must be her. Her black coat flutters behind her in the wind as she sits beside the other woman.

‘Who are you?’ Grace asks.

‘Irish?’ The woman responds with a question.

‘And you’re American.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why am I here?’ Grace leans back against the park bench, crossing her legs. ‘What did he do? Was it assault, did he hurt the kids…?’

‘Ulle Dag Charles.’

‘UDC… the River man?’

‘Yes,’ She answers.

‘I don’t see how exposing the rich is a crime,’ Grace grins. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve wasted my time.’

‘If he releases River, it’s not just the rich who fall. All secret networks will be exposed, you’ll be discovered.’ The woman turns to face Grace, trying to get a look at her expression. She quickly realises it’s impossible with the cap and the darkly tinted glasses. ‘You’ll go to prison for a long time.’

‘If that’s the case, hidden networks of paedophiles, rapists… it will all be exposed. You think they’ll go after little old me?’

‘I think even after exposing the rich, they’ll still have the power, and they’ll still be protected.’

‘You’re very insistent,’ Grace observes. ‘Why me?’

‘Because you always get the job done.’

Sighing, Grace looks up at the cloudy sky, the sun peaking out slightly. She sucks in a breath of the fresh park air before responding. ‘This job is a bit harder than the others…’

‘Which is why we’ve hired a second… professional, such as yourself.’

‘First, you ask me to eliminate a man for wanting to expose the rich, and now you tell me I’d have to work with another person?’

There is a silence that passes momentarily between the two women as they stare each other down.

‘River is good for nobody. You will go to prison.’

‘No, I won’t.’ Grace smirks knowingly. ‘Who is the other person?’

‘He is one of the best, alongside yourself.’

‘Who is he?’

‘I don’t know his identity…’ She answers. ‘He took out Fest.’

‘Ah.’ Grace’s lips immediately quick upwards, a grin taking over her expression. She stands up, hands in pockets, she stares down at the woman still sitting. ‘And what do they call you?’

‘Zina.’

‘Zina… I don’t kill innocent men. Give me one good reason to take this job, and not because of River.’

‘...’ The American woman sits there contemplating for a moment, her mind working a million miles an hour. ‘You don’t have to take the shot. We need you to… babysit.’

Grace lets out a loud chuckle, ‘babysit?’

‘It seems our other hire is caught up in a few… troubles after the fest situation. We need you to ensure he gets the job done, and if he fails to, you step in and finish it.’

‘Well… let’s hope he doesn’t fail.’

‘Is that a yes to the job?’ Zina sits up straight.

‘He is aware, I assume?’

‘He will be made aware.’

‘Get me in contact,’ Grace turns around and walks away, her coat once again billowing behind her.

It was another early morning, three days after Grace’s meeting with Zina. She sat behind the counter at the cafe, it was a very quiet morning. A Sunday morning, not many were up and about. She opened her laptop, plugging in her USB.

Access Chatroom:

Username: xxxfOxTROT22971x$

Password: ************

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___who are you?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___should i not be asking you?

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i do not need babysitting.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___ah.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___the other ‘professional’

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___nice shot.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___refuse the job.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i don’t think i will.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i get bored sometimes.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___then stay out of the way.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i do the job i’m hired for.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___don’t get into trouble, and i won’t have to step in and clean it up.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i don’t need anybody to clean up.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___a little birdy told me otherwise.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i am not the enemy.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i don’t work in teams.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___there is a first time for everything.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i’m not here to steal your job.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i’m here to cover your ass so you can get it done.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___you said you don’t work in teams, that means you have no connections.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___you will fuck up, you will go to jail.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___Munich.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i will send the hotel details.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___see you there.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

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taglist: @ysabay @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm @fawkes5050 @our-future-is-up-to-us-2 @itszara-theurbanwitch @wintercrows @rosie-read-that @kpopgirlbtssvt

inayakaisen

The Art of Not Bleeding

A Kaz Brekker x reader fic

TW:angst, no happy ending

"You're too smart to act this stupid."

An errant remark, but one you knew was irritated.

You'd learned to listen for that black note of quiet danger in his voice long ago when you had first joined the Dregs, a fifteen year old girl from the higher area of Ketterdam. He'd called you a merchling then, shot sarcastic retorts at every single remark of yours. You weren't deadly, you weren't rough enough, you weren't one of them, he'd told you then. He'd shook his head every time you tripped, every time you fell behind the rest of the gang, everytime you apologised for being too slow, for not being experienced enough. He'd seen your kindness as a deception, one he experienced everytime you brought him coffee or included him in a conversation. He hadn't known why you did it, but he'd feigned nonchalance and ignored you as best as he could.

Two years, and the Barrel still hadn't stolen that caring part out of you. No matter how many mansions you'd broken into, no matter how many times you'd carried yourself back into your room at the Slat after university classes, a job, an afterparty, exhausted, dark circles under your eyes and a hand clutching the bandage under your shirt, you'd still get up and make coffee for everyone, fret over their hangovers, make them breakfast. He hated that about you, how you put everyone else first. He hated how you'd never tell him if you were in pain, if everything was falling apart. But then again; he hadn't exactly been a perfect confidante either. He'd never given you reason to trust him. With every sarcastic remark, every snide word, he'd chipped away at your trust until you'd learned to stay away. And that was good for him. It gave him less reason to worry, less reason for the gangs to catch onto his weakness. The further you strayed from him, the better off you'd be.

"I'm fine. The others got away. We got the loot." You breathed out, one hand clutched over the knife gash on your stomach. It was lucky enough that the two of you had managed to escape from the Stadwatch, but a new gang had started up on the edge of the Barrel, one which specified in knife throwing, and their aim was good. They'd gotten you while Kaz and you were looking for one of the more subtle hideouts. Now that you were here, it wasn't as welcoming as it had sounded while the two of you were running, albeit staggering to it, but it was something, at least.

Broken bricks lined the perimeter of the abandoned warehouse, boarded up windows and graffiti adorning the walls. There were dusty divans and a few arm chairs that missed springs, but it was good enough for you. Your mood distinctly improved when you noticed the broken cupboard stocked with dry biscuits and a few three in one coffee packets. The very prospect of it might have sent fifteen year old you into a disgusted thought spiral, but you were starving, and anything sounded good right now.

"It's not them I'm worried about, (name)." You heard the smooth thud of his cane hitting the concrete floor, his slightly asymmetrical steps approaching you. You barely had time to look up before you felt his gloved hand on your shoulder, fingers brushing your coat aside.

"I know they can take care of themselves. You, on the other hand..." He continued, ignoring your look as he proceeded to glance over your wound, letting out an annoyed scoff as you squirmed.

"Hold still." His voice is clipped, brisk as he leans down beside you, gloved fingers peeling back the torn fabric around your wound. His touch is featherlight, the only sensation you can feel cool, expensive leather. For a moment, there's only silence as he stares at the knife embedded in the side of your abdomen, the scars and smooth skin around it. Despite who he is, you wonder if Kaz is in disbelief. He pauses for a bit, shooting you an almost begrudging glare, then sets to work.

The warehouse is dim, lit only by the weak glow seeping through the gaps in the high windows. Every movement of his is precise as he rummages through the supplies he took off some unsuspecting fool earlier. His hands are steady. Yours are not.

"This is the third time this month."

He dabs at the wound, albeit an aperture, left behind when he'd pulled out the dagger, a little rougher than necessary, making you wince and bite your fist to keep down a whimper.

"You think getting yourself killed, putting yourself in harm's way makes you look tough, doesn't it? I don't know why I bother."

But he always does, and he always will. That’s the problem.

His gaze flicks up, sharp and assessing, searching your face for signs of pain you won’t admit to. His dark eyes meet yourself, the color of rich coffee. You wonder how they look in the sunlight.

He clicks his tongue in irritation when you flinch.

"You think this makes you brave?" His voice drops lower, quieter, but no less biting. You wince again, but this time not from the pain. It hurts. He hurts you, but you know he means well. But then again, you've never been a good judge of character. After all, you had once believed that your parents loved you, would never hurt you. Maybe it was the same with him. Maybe all these years, you'd just been chasing after a dream that would never come true, a gentle touch, a kind word that you'd never receive. It was just like you- begging to be hurt, to be tortured, then smiling and thanking the people who hurt you.

And yet he’s still here, bandaging you up, making sure you’re not bleeding out on the cold warehouse floor.

Maybe he's just giving you the amount of care that is deserved by an old acquaintance, even an old friend. He'd probably do the same for Wylan or Nina or Jesper. He'd do more for Inej, or even that Imogen, but not you.

His fingers still for a fraction of a second against your skin—barely noticeable—before he pulls away and adjusts his gloves.

"Don't move." He says, moving to the cupboard and setting out a pack of dry cod and biscuits, then settling a flask of water into your hand. "Warm this up for me while I check the perimeter."

You rolled your eyes as he turned his back. He'd never asked you to use your Inferni powers thus far, and you'd only used your Healing to heal any of the Crows or some of the Dregs. He knew what you'd gone through, and in that aspect, he was kind.

"Kaz, wait." Your tongue slipped, and what you'd been thinking came tumbling out like a waterfall of words before you realised. "Why do you hate me?"

Immediately, you cringed. Such a horrible, horrible question- It'd better befit some simpering, darling Kerch girl than you. You were supposed to be titanium, to not care or yield. To be soft to only those who were soft to you. You certainly didn't go around asking people why they hated you. Nonetheless, your eyes settled on his turned back, waiting for a turn, a response, a physical motion- anything.

You'd be happy even if he turned around and cussed you out, even if he replied with something harsh and biting- you only needed an answer so you could move on. Two years pining, two years being basically ignored- it was too much for you.

You hadn't meant to say it. Not like this. Not with your voice breaking, your chest tight and aching. But the words had slipped out before you can stop them, raw and exposed, and you wait on the edge of an abyss, hurting like you'd never hurt before.

Kaz goes still. Not the kind of stillness that comes before he strikes, not the sharp calculation you’ve seen a hundred times before. This is different. Like you’ve caught him off guard, like the ground beneath him isn’t quite steady. His hands twitch, curling into fists, and you notice that at some point, he'd taken off his gloves. His pale, slender fingers flex at his sides, unscathed but covered in your blood.

He doesn’t answer.

You make yourself get up and hobble closer, desperate for something, anything—some kind of reaction, some kind of truth. But the second you move, his shoulders go rigid, like you’re a threat he doesn’t know how to defend against.

"I don't—" His voice catches, and that alone is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. He never stumbles over his words. Never hesitates.

But now, he does.

A war is waging behind his eyes, but you don't know if he's fighting against you or himself. His jaw clenches, his throat works around something unsaid, and when he finally speaks, his voice is lower, rougher.

"You deserve better."

It’s a deflection, not an answer. But you hear what he isn’t saying, what he’s never said.

I don’t hate you.

I never could.

But I can’t be what you need.

And you can't be what I need.

And maybe that hurts more than hatred ever could.

***

After that moment in the warehouse, you began to speak to him less. After all, why would you speak to someone who'd told you in no unclear terms to stay away?

You knew very well what he'd meant to say- I'm not good enough, but neither are you- we'll never be enough for each other.

Those words kept replaying in your head as you threw yourself back into your university classes, dousing yourself in extra credit work and essays, sipping a meagre black coffee between classes which you'd never felt the need to drink before, grabbing a bite of something or other at the end of the day. You'd begun avoiding the Crow Club and the Slat, declining the Crows' calls, refusing jobs and pleading illnesses and clashing classes. You couldn't bear to look at Kaz again.

A week passed, then two. The calls from the Crows never stopped, but they became less frequent; perhaps they'd caught on to you and Kaz. You'd known that they'd known, but it still stung, them knowing that you had begun avoiding them only because of Kaz's wrongdoings. You missed them, you did, but you knew that going to the Slat meant running into Kaz, and you didn't think you could bear meeting those dark coffee eyes again. You looked in the mirror and all you saw was insignificance, dark circles, wan skin. The depth of his refusal.

"You've been out of it for weeks."

Your head snapped up as you felt a calm hand on your shoulder. It was your friend, Saige, her warm green eyes settled on yours. You shrugged, neck and back aching from the hunched position you'd been settled in since noon.

"I'm finishing the assignment. That's all." You replied, tapping another calculation into your calculator.

Saige paused, eyes flitting over your face. The two of you, along with your current friend group, had been friends for almost four years, and you trusted them with all your heart- the only secret you'd ever kept from them was Kaz. You'd never fallen in love until him, believing love didn't exist, abiding by some unspoken rule: don't love, don't break. But he had a habit of dragging you in like a wave into a rocky shore. Too bad you'd evaporated on those very rocks you'd first found appealing.

"You're lying, and you know it." She bops your nose, drawing a tired laugh out of you. "Tell me."

"I won't, because you'll make fun of me or something." You whined, settling down the calculator. You knew she would, but she'd also comfort you, then start her psychoanalysis. You didn't think you wanted to hear that you were attracted to emo gang leader cripples because of your traumatic past. After all, you already knew that.

"I'm not." She replied sagely, moving your books to the side. "I'm not going to laugh. Tell me."

You didn't know what went on in your head, but you told her, all of it. It spilled out like blood from an artery, a fountain of words. The two of you sat there for an hour as you talked and talked and talked. You told her everything you'd never told anyone before- why and how'd you'd joined the Dregs, how you'd been going on jobs with them since you were 15, your friends there, the Ice Court heist, the chaos afterwards, your strange attraction to Kaz. She listened, nodded once in a while and at the end, let out a long breath.

"I'm going to kill him."

"No!" You scrambled. "It's not his fault, it's not-"

"The first time you fall for someone and he breaks your heart?" Saige looked vindicated. "I'm breaking that cripple's other leg, and then, I'll break his third leg too."

You only stared, then burst into laughter- probably the first time you'd really laughed this month.

"No need for that." You replied, sighing and tapping your phone with one hand. "I'm trying to move on."

Saige ran a hand through her dyed violet hair, lost in thought. "Yeah. You do that, and then I can psycho-analyse you all I want."

You giggled. "Sure."

The two of you talked for a while, then parted ways when she had another class. You lay back in bed, scrolling through your new messages.

Nine from Nina. Seven each from Inej and Jesper. Five from Wylan. Three from Matthias. Your fingers itched to write a reply, but you stopped yourself. Better to stay away, to cut ties. Easier for your heart.

None from Kaz.

It kind of broke your heart.

You mumbled a curse under your breath and moved on. It was better, really, to let him go. He didn't seem the type to marry, to settle down, to have kids and a family, to get you flowers. The only gifts you'd gotten from him were appreciative nods and switchblades and quiet nights by his office's window, sharing a few words but never touching, always on opposite sides of the room. And a few sarcastic compliments, maybe. That was all.

New message from ♠︎ Kaz ♠︎

You dropped your phone on the floor.

You gaped at the glowing screen. It contained a single sentence, alarming in its hostility, in its suddenness, in its confidence.

♠︎Kaz♠︎: I need you here for a job. Now.

Fuck you, bastard, you thought in sudden anger, picking your phone up and trying to ignore the pang in your chest. I could live a thousand years and still not understand how your mind works.

Your blood boiled at his shenanigans, that piece of shit. You typed furiously-

->you emo piece of shit, you demjin, your hair looks like it hasn't been washed in decades, you look like a dying Victorian child who swallowed shit, your parents probably found you drowning in a septic tank as a baby, and you probably carry 200 different kind of STDs. I don't know how you'd get them though, with that 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖞 haphephobia shit you have going on.

You finished typing and sighed, falling back onto your bed, heart giving a painful twinge. You knew you'd curse his name, but you'd still crawl back to him. Bastard of the Barrel. Dirtyhands. He had your little heart clutched in those leather gloves.

***

"You'll never find love." Your mother had told you one cruel winter night in Fjerda, the whole family by the elaborate fireplace. The maids had just served cocoa and your hands were occupied with that. "Every bad thing that happens to you is deserved. Demjin. A devil. A homewrecker. You broke up my marriage with your father and now you're trying to break up this one, too. Learn something from your step sisters. Or maybe just stay away."

Your brother'd looked at you, eyes flitting, but you'd said nothing. The next day you'd left for Ketterdam, for your college. It was hard, staying away. But ever since your mother had started to introduce your step sisters as her only daughters, it'd been easier. Easier when her calls stopped. Easier when she told your brother to stop talking to you. Easier when you met Kaz.

You still sent them cards for every holiday. That silly, simpering heart was what brought you to the Barrel now. Clad in a black corset dress and knee high boots, you figured you could at least go out in style. Maybe you'd even punch him once. Would he let you do that? You had no idea.

They'd changed the locks on the Slat's windows months before, and you'd forgotten your keys. Failing to get a response at the door, you knocked once, twice on Nina's window, ensuring your feet were still on the ledge that you'd climbed so precariously and that your makeup was pristine. You were no Inej, but ledges were nothing to you. Easy, easy, because Ketterdam was forever mildewy. You stepped onto the loose brick and grabbed the window sill.

The curtains were open. You peeked in and saw something you shouldn't have. Not something that inappropriate, but deep down, you were still Fjerdan, and Fjerdans shied away at kissing scenes, let alone touchy feely makeouts in beds.

Good for them, you guessed as you refrained a shriek. No, no, please don't take it off- please-

You thanked Djel as Matthias and Nina's head shot up towards the window, where you awkwardly waved at them, cheeks burning. Nina shrieked and rushed towards the window, opening it instantly.

"(Name)!!" Nina cried, pulling you through the window with as much care as she could in her addled state. "On all the Saints, what?! Where have you been?"

"Places." You said meekly, returning Matthias's warm nod as Nina pulled you into a tight hug. He'd always treated you like a sister, on account of both of you being Fjerdan. And you supposed you were more polite than most of the Crows at first meeting. And Nina and you...well, you two were just differently bonded.

"You can't just...disappear and then come back and say "places"!!" Nina shrieked at you, clutching your shoulders and pushing you onto a chair. "I want an hour long explanation, right now. But first, you need to meet everyone. We've been going insane, and you know giving space isn't our thing."

You sighed, trying to think of something, focusing your eyes elsewhere as Nina righted her clothes and Matthias rebuttoned his shirt.

"I'll tell you later. It's just...university."

Before Nina or Matthias could protest, you stepped up and out of the room, murmuring promises of explaining.

First, you had to find Kaz.

Secondly, you had to kill him.

Very easy, you thought as you opened and shut doors, earning shouts of "she's back!!" from random Dregs. You shot smiles their way and started to go up the stairs, eyes fixed on the unfinished wood. You missed him. Saints, you missed him so damn much. And you hated him so much, too.

You were about to step on that one stair that creaked when you heard a door opening and found yourself shoe to shoe with a pair of black boots and the telltale thud of a cane.

Think of the Devil and he appears.

(Name.)

(Name, you're too gullible for this. You're too good for him.)

"Firstly, I-"

"Where have you been?" He hissed. You didn't meet his eyes, grabbing his collar but not missing the jerk he gave. That fear. Always there. When would he really trust you?

"I hate you, Brekker." You spat. "And I always will. That’s all I came here to say."

You met his eyes. He met yours. Your arm brown eyes against his shark-like ones.

"That's for the best," he said dismissively, already turning away.

Deep down, you knew he was right. But you couldn’t leave it like that—not without the last word. A stubborn Fjerdan flaw, maybe. Or maybe just your heart refusing to go quietly.

“But I’ll probably always love you too, you bastard.”

He froze. Just for a second. Then his eyes met yours—no longer cold, no longer indifferent. There was something else there now. Something raw.

He opened his mouth as if to speak—

But then he turned and the door slammed shut behind him. Gone again.

And maybe that was the last word after all.

badumpum

Damnnnnn

mi9yuz-deactivated20250714

medium rare 🐮 kmg

fluff wc 401 / since todays my bday…

Honestly, you weren’t even that excited to go out the night of your birthday. The whole "celebrating yourself" notion just dropped your stomach. Still, they all insisted, and well, that was maybe the beginning of Korean BBQ, loud laughter, and soju bottles scattered on the table before the first piece of meat went onto the grill.

You were halfway through pouring when somebody came up.

“Hi, I’m Mingyu. I’ll be taking care of you guys tonight,” and wow. That tall height, those dimples. Forearms and rolled sleeves. Very dangerous. “I heard it’s someone’s birthday?”

You gave him a half-wave as your friends all pointed at you as if you had committed some hideous crime.

The guy smiled. “Happy birthday. Would you mind if I took over the grill for you tonight?”

You blinked. “Oh—no, you don’t have to, we can—”

“Nah, I got it,” he said, picking up the tongs like he had been doing this forever. “Birthday rule. No cooking.”

badumpum

When will this happen to meeeeeee

hakunagis

BEHIND THE CLOSED DOORS | JWW

Genre: fluff /romance ⸝⸝ Content: est relationship, yapper wonu, mentions of alcohol and a half drunk wonu ⸝⸝ Notes: i firmly believe that wonwoo IS a yapper. Argue w the wall if u disagree. ⸝⸝ Wc: 500+

ᯓ★ There are things that other people don't know about you and your boyfriend—wonwoo—behind the closed doors. but it's a little secret between you two that no one knows.

“You must be the talker in your relationship y/n.”

Your friend mused. You and Wonwoo decided to attend her wedding anniversary, with Wonwoo chatting with his friends while you sat on one of the stools—watching him with heart eyes.

“Really? What makes you think of that?” You laughed at her comment, some people might be offended at her statement but not you. Because you know something she doesn't.

badumpum

As an extrovert all I want is thissss, an introverted bf is a dream come true for me

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #seventeen fluff #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader

fxstpace-deactivated20250705

“wonwoo,” you whisper, nudging his ankle with a sock-clad foot. “wonwoo, wake up.”

he grunts and mumbles something unintelligible, before his lips part and he lets out a soft snore. his hair is a mess—probably because he never seems to stay still when he’s asleep. you reach out and gently trail a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“wonwoo,” you try again. he shivers involuntarily. “baby, darling, light of my life. sugarplum. rubber duck. love boat.”

“i’m going to break up with you if you call me that again,” your boyfriend finally says, opening his eyes and squinting at you. you grin. he sighs, though it’s not a weary sound. more fond than anything else. loving, in the way only jeon wonwoo is. “what do you want?”

badumpum

As someone who cooks the most easiest dishes for others bcs "it tastes better when you do it".. I want this irl pls.. When will someone cook for me instead huehue

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #wonwoo imagines

25shadesoffebruary

Joker of all trades

badumpum

My new man

ssentimentals

what about… seungcheol, suggestive prompt number 40 😼😼

seungcheol and 40 sounds great hehe ;) thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

suggestive prompt: 'yell at me again and i'll give you reason to scream.'

'i am this close,' you pinch your fingers together leaving a tiny space in between, 'to start throwing stuff at you. don't tempt me, seungcheol.'

normal man would've huffed and walked away. normal man would've apologized and tried to stop the fight. normal man would've tried to calm you down. but seungcheol is not normal, so he only goads you on with that goddamn smirk on his face: 'i'd like to see you try with your shitty aim.'

shout that you let out is almost not human. you grab whatever you can reach first - remote from tv - and fling it at him with the force that you didn't even know you possessed; it flies past his head and slams on the wall behind him. seungcheol turns back to check and huffs: 'you can't even break stuff, babe.'

you groan loudly. seungcheol starts coming close and you rush to the sofa, grabbing pillows from it and throwing them at him without any coordination, somehow hoping that this influx of pillows will stop him for reaching out. it obviously doesn't, but what it does is amuse him to no end. seungcheol is grinning like a madman by the time he reaches you, pinning you to the sofa with his whole body. 'are you done?' he questions, arching both eyebrows. 'there are no pillows left.'

'get off me,' you press, knowing that trying to push him away will not work. seungcheol doesn't listen though, only presses his body closer to yours. it wouldn't be the first time for your fights to end up in something less about fighting and more about fucking, but this time you're way too angry. 'i said get off me!'

your scream surprises both of you. you have this pact, this unspoken agreement that you two don't scream at each other under no circumstances. this is not what any of you is willing to tolerate and you know it, that's why this scream leaves you shocked as well. seungcheol stares at you, unblinking and you instantly deflate, embarrassed at this outburst. it's okay for you to shout or groan loudly but never at him.

'yell at me again and i'll give you reason to scream.' he mutters, eyes full of intent. you gulp and he softens just a little, gently reminding you: 'we don't scream at each other, baby. remember?'

you nod. 'yeah, i do. get off me now.'

he easily complies this time, giving you his hand to help you stand up as well. you both stare at each other in silence, breathing heavily before seungcheol whispers: 'let's go to bed.' at your quirked eyebrow he adds: 'not for that. to talk. but it can be for that too, if you want.'

'god,' you moan, hitting him lightly. 'you're such an idiot. i hate you.'

seungcheol grins, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you towards the bedroom. he kisses your head and smiles at the way you lean on him, tired of the fight. 'i know. you tried to kill me with the remote, afterall.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

badumpum

This is soo cuteee

choerrypuffs

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.”

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier.

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes.

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely.

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson.

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly.

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.”

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state.

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.”

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention.

badumpum

This is a sweet as a midnight snack... Argh as a baker this is soooo cute like, the fluff is fulffing

#nct imagines #haechan fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #haechan

wheeboo

love. | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo shows you love in it's simplistic forms - through the five love languages. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing alot of kissing, mild cursing, brief wonu shirtless shower moment, they shower together, some suggestive innuendos, reader wears a dress + jewelry, some creepo harasses reader, last scene is suggestive + contains allusions to sex, i'm rlly just torturing all the wonwoorideuls out there (me included) WORD COUNT. 8.1k

notes: what are all of u guys love language(s) ?!?! mine is quality time and words <3. i also truly believe wonu is peak quality time, acts of services, and words ughhhdsfjkhdd. tbh all sections of these feature pretty much all the love languages lol its hard to emphasize just one specifically

i. in the moments where my hands speak what my heart can't say

A snowflake lands on your tongue.

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, shivering slightly as you walk your way back from a meet up with some friends. Wonwoo had texted you earlier, asking if you needed anything before he would come over to your place for the first time, and you had told him that he didn't have to come because really... your place wasn't exactly the tidiness right now.

badumpum

If my relationship ain't like this, then what's the point

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo fluff

bvidzsoo

Cold Red Iron

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

⎊ Warning: suggestive speech and content, cursing, violence, weapons, stabbing, blood, hostage situation, mentions of domestic violence (not against MC) ⎊ Word count: 27.6k ⎊ Rating: mature, nsfw ⎊ Genre: Iron Man!AU, humour, Marvel references, superheroes!au, workplace!au, they can't stand each other but end up working together!au ⎊ Summary: Each day you wake up wondering what you did in a previous life to deserve your prick of a boss, who is also a womanizer and owns a company that made him a millionaire. But the job pays well, and there's Mrs. Bae too, so you suck it up. But one unfortunate event at the metro station seems to change your life for the better (?).

A/N: I actually thought I could make this oneshot 15~18k, who's the clown here now? Hii, hello, welcome back my lovelies to a completely random and uncalled for Marvel oneshot that is humorous (I hope so) but also deals with serious topics. For the sake of the story, Mingi is aged up and is closer to his thirties and our MC is around 25-ish, though unspecified, and Mrs. Bae, who is Irene/Bae Joohyun, is aged up a lot lmao, so yes, Yunho is younger than everyone ~oops. I think this is all I wanted to say, sorry for mistakes 'cuz some always somehow slip through, and if I missed tagging any warning lmk. I appreciate your feedback lots, so let me know what you thought of this little story, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ^^ divider

🕸️(you can find my Spiderman!Yunho oneshot here)

badumpum

Gosh why my life have to be so boring.. I want this typa romance so baddddd

#mingi as iornman is sooo ooof

highvern

endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, FWB to idiots to lovers

warnings: cumshot/facial, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m & f receiving), rough sex, breath play (choking), mentions of exhibitionism, face fucking, virgin wonwoo mentions, idiots in love, edging (emotionally), impact play, sir kink (brief), alcohol consumption

Length: ~19.5k

Note: thank you to @gyuswhore my love, my life, for suffering through this with me. this fic is set in the same universe as her gyu fic for this collab so check it out (threat). also thank u @haologram and everyone else who beta'd this for me bc im sensitive. follow @camandemstudios for more fics!!! i will come back later and tag the people who commented on the teaser but rn im getting day drunk hehehe

summary: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

badumpum

I love how thier deep into each other n yet crack jokes and call names so cute.. I wan that thypa relationship

kaipaedyn

judecardan freak cannot be matched 🎀

🎨: baaozher

badumpum

Is somebody gnna match my freak?

miniimight

DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...

prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"

with married!rindou + fem!reader

warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.

you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.

you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?

it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.

badumpum

When I say I want to read angst, this is what i mean

haoiism-deactivated20250727

jeon wonwoo x gender-neutral reader ; 0.2k ; fluff, established relationship au ; modified & reposted from my old blog. happy (early) new year!

[12:01 AM] ★ you’re woken up by a kiss.

wonwoo smiles against your lips, only allowing a hair’s breadth of space to form in between you both as you let out an annoyed huff. you roll onto your back and he towers over you, arms braced on either side of your head.

“hi,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“go to sleep,” you grumble, cracking one eye open lazily.

“it’s midnight.”

“exactly.” you try to turn over, but wonwoo nuzzles into your neck, pressing a brief, open-mouthed kiss to the sliver of skin exposed near your shoulder.

“you know what that means.” he presses his fingers into your waist, bunching up your t-shirt. his hair tickles your neck; you smile.

“it means you need to sleep,” you say pointedly, squinting into the darkness. you bring a hand up and card it through his hair. he sighs softly when you lightly scratch on his scalp.

“and it also means it’s a new day already.”

“‘s not a new day ‘til the sun comes up,” you murmur sleepily.

wonwoo doesn’t argue. he only grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. the muted city lights that penetrate the darkness through your open window are reflected in his eyes—but he looks at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the sky, just for him. “happy new year,” he says, mouth splitting into a wide grin, and despite your drowsiness, you let him pull you into a kiss, and somehow you already know this year is going to be a special one already.

badumpum

What a way to start the year 😭🤚 I need a bf like this

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #seventeen x reader #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #i need a bf like him

jae-bummer

My Hospital Bed or Yours?

Prompt: I feel like this could fit him really well - Changkyun and #15

Prompt:

15) You hurt yourself and your bias is in the hospital bed adjacent.

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: Monsta X Changkyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff

TW: Hospital setting. Mentions of fractures/appendicitis.

"Appendicitis," you muttered. "You're telling me it's appendicitis?"

"Unfortunately," your doctor sighed, tapping the side of your hospital bed.

"Well, I don't want it to be appendicitis," you grumbled, crossing your arms, only to cringe in pain from the movement.

"I certainly didn't want that either," the doctor chuckled. "But unfortunately, this is what it is."

"Sooo what's the next steps?"

"We'll have you stay the night and get you ready for surgery tomorrow morning," he nodded.

"Can't you just give me some antibiotics and I can go home?" you groaned.

"Not if you want to be back here in 6-8 weeks to try again."

You leaned your head back on the pillow and whined. "I don't like the hospital."

"I won't take that personally," the doctor chuckled. "I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

With that, your doctor sidestepped around the side of your privacy curtain and began talking to the patient who was in the room with you.

"How are we feeling today, Mr. Im?"

"Same as yesterday," a deep voice croaked. "My butt is numb and my leg is itchy."

"Would it be helpful if the nurse brought you a few more pillows to make yourself a bit more comfortable?"

"Comfort is an illusion here," he muttered bitterly. "I would however like my pudding cup at your earliest convenience."

The doctor let out a surprised laugh. "I'll have someone get right on that."

You heard the physician's steps exit the room and begin to retreat down the hallway. After a moment of silence, the voice on the other side of the curtain cleared its throat. "So, what are you in here for?"

"Appendicitis," you said weakly, but you guessed he had probably already heard that bit. "You?"

"Leg fracture," he sighed. "I'm currently in traction."

"In traction?"

"You know, where they put your leg into a tiny hammock and make it stay there for the rest of eternity?"

"Traction," you repeated. "Got it."

The silence lulled on for another moment. "Whatcha wearing?"

"I'm sorry?" you gasped, hardly believing your ears.

"Don't sound so scandalized," he laughed. "My vote is your hospital gown matches mine. Is it hideous?"

You looked down, furrowing your brow. "I mean...it's not the first thing I would pick to wear."

"Push the curtain back. Let's compare," he said. You could tell from the sudden fluttery motion of the fabric between you that he was attempting to grab at it with his fingertips.

You chewed on your lip, trying to decide if this was a good idea or not. You could just ignore the stranger, whoever he was. Surely he would stop trying to talk to you after some point. Then again, you would be stuck in a room with him for the next day or two. If you decided to stay silent, how awkward could things get?

"I'll make it worth your while," he tried again. "Half of this pudding cup could be yours."

"Fuck it," you thought before narrowing your eyes and focusing on the small pull stick that controlled the curtain. Trying to move as slowly and comfortably as possibly, you grabbed it and pushed it as hard as you could toward the opposite end of the curtain track.

The burst of movement maybe moved the fabric only four feet or so, but it was enough to expose your roommate.

You were shocked by the man you had uncovered. He was smirking mischievously at you, the smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. His hair was black, long, and disheveled, but it suited him. His tan skin had no pallor to it, which was a surprise considering he had been stuck in the hospital room since who knows when.

"Well hello to you too," he grinned, watching you as you took him in.

"Sorry," you squeaked, shaking your head. "I just...I... you weren't what I was expecting. That's all."

"Midsize, dark, and handsome?"

"I...well...midsize?" you fumbled.

"Yeah, I'm nowhere near "conventionally tall" so don't get your hopes up whenever they let me out of this hospital bed," he chuckled. "The adage of "tall, dark, and handsome" didn't quite work."

"Got it," you said quietly, your eyes still roaming his face.

"I'm Changkyun, if you were wondering. And my hypothesis has been confirmed," he nodded. "We are in matching hospital gowns. I've got to tell you, washed out mint is really your color."

"Thanks?" you pushed out. Was this guy for real? "I'm Y/N."

You allowed yourself to finally look away from him and face forward. Taking a deep breath of air through your nose, you slowly blew it from your mouth.

"I was eavesdropping and heard you have surgery tomorrow," Changkyun offered. "That's a bummer."

"Yeah," you said shortly, closing your eyes. You didn't want to even recognize that you were stuck in a hospital bed right now, let alone going in for a procedure.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. "Sorry if I'm making things worse. I can shut up."

"Please," you said quietly. "And thank you."

After several beats of silence, he cleared his throat again. "It's okay to be scared."

"I'm not scared," you grumbled.

"Didn't say you were. Just saying it was totally okay if you decided to be."

You groaned, opened your eyes again, and turned to face him.

"I'm freaked out," you said quietly, admitting it more to yourself than this stranger.

"That's a synonym for "scared"," he whispered back with a small smile. You couldn't help yourself as you let out a laugh that hurt entirely too much. "Don't think on it too much though. Everything will go great and then they'll wheel you right back here."

"I can hardly wait."

"I can tell," he grinned. "Seriously though, if you don't have anyone else to be here for you, I'm as good a choice as any."

"Oh?" You quirked up your brows. "How so?"

"Well, for starters, I am an A+ cuddler."

"Who said I wanted to cuddle?"

"That's comfort 101, baby," he hummed. "Plus, I'm cute, you're cute, according to science, that makes sense."

You couldn't help but smile. "You're absolutely ridiculous. Do you realize that?"

Changkyun attempted to sit up a bit. "I do in fact live in my head 87% of the time, so i have some idea. Back to the topic at hand though, my hospital bed or yours?"

You choked out a laugh and instantly regretted it as your insides throbbed.

"Sorry," he winced. "You can tell me to shut up again."

"Please don't," you said quietly. This man was absolutely wild, but he was turning your discomfort into something else entirely. You could appreciate that. "You're an excellent distraction."

"You know what else is an excellent distraction? Kissing," he said confidently. "I've heard it works wonders."

It was your turn to sit up now. With wide eyes, you tried to find words. "I don't even know you."

"You could."

Shaking your head. "I think your pain medication is doing the talking right now."

"Is not!" he gasped indignantly. "I know beauty when I see it, and I want your face on my face!"

"Yep," you nodded. "Definitely the medication."

"I will tell them to stop these pills right now and prove to you these are my stone-cold sober thoughts!" he whisper-yelled.

"You're telling me, you just enjoy kissing strangers?"

"If they're beautiful."

You felt heat travel with alarming speed up your neck and to your ears. You knew you weren't at your visual best right now, so any compliment came across well. "You're a flirt, Mr. Im."

"But," he said tapping his chin. "Is the flirting working?"

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of knowing."

"Oh, just wait until I get freedom to move again," he gasped. "I am so hopping on one foot over there and suffocating you with unwarranted affection."

"And what if I'm discharged before you are?"

"I'll bar the door with my hospital bed if you don't leave me your number," he said simply.

"And then what?"

"Then we ride my electric wheelchair off into the sunset."

badumpum

Plsss why is this so cute arghhh

#changkyun #im changkyun #i.m #monsta x #monsta x i.m #changkyun fanfic #i.m x reader

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