#{ i have zero need for crack with this woman

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

As a mom who is radfem-leaning (I’m married with a kid, so I can’t rightly call myself a full on radfem) I greatly appreciate this post. I have so much to say about the way moms are treated in society but every time I’ve tried to respond to this it gets completely out of hand, lengthwise, and I realize I need to make my own post.

It truly breaks my heart to see the hatred and discrimination moms receive, especially from the very women that should be working to help them. I am well-loved and supported by my family and community, but so, SO many of the mothers in my life have nobody and nothing supporting them. And if they do reach out for support, they get called stupid breeders and idiots for having kids with men who abandoned them.

Do women need to make smarter choices about the men they have children with? Yes. But do we really need to antagonistically cut them down for choices that have already been made and that they are already suffering the repercussions of? Calling a single mom who is struggling a stupid breeder who deserves what she got for being a cock-sick man lover doesn’t actually do anything to help her.

Motherhood can be amazing if it’s what you want and what you actively choose at a time that is right for you. If it’s not what you want, great! I don’t want to be an athlete but I still fight for women’s right to have sex-segregated sports because I care about ALL women. Even if you don’t want to ever have kids (and that is your choice that I will defend to the death) you should still care about moms. Not just because we’re raising the next generation and a little support would be amazeballs, but because moms are women, too, and feminism should help all women, not just the ones who you agree with.

Admittedly the way people talk about motherhood makes me a bit sad. Both in the world at large and on here. It's true that as women we have essentially been treated as incubators and the natural capability of our bodies was/is exploited and used to keep us in line. But I really do think that motherhood, carrying and raising children, is beautiful and something to be appreciated. We literally have the power to create life and men don't. True, not all women can give birth but anyone who can give birth is a woman. And while I capitulate that we used to be treated like incubators in the past, some people use this term to even describe pregnancies that are wanted. And I think it's a bit misogynistic to compare something as cold and machine-like as an incubator to something women are naturally able to do. It feels objectifying.

I feel like a lot of radical feminists talk about pregnancy as if it were a travesty. As if you've become corrupted by an evil force. I know that pregnancy can have a serious impact on a woman's body but sometimes I feel like the way people talk about pregnancy on here is misogynistic towards women who want to be pregnant. I don't think it's really that progressive to talk about something that women's bodies are naturally able to do as if it were some sort of curse. Many of us see it that way because men used to use our reproductive capabilities as a way to control us, and still do to an extent. We can't stoop to their level. It's not inherently a bad thing.

I've also noticed that a lot of societal messaging seems to imply that pregnancy is an inferior state. Both misogynists and radical feminists talk about it as if it means your life is over. That you're nothing more than a mother now. That you've been defeated by the patriarchy. And while I understand that the feminist perspective is different (it's critiquing the misogynist perspective), I've never really seen radical feminists try to empower mothers or talk about how we can change the way society views motherhood. A lot of them seem to think no women should be mothers at all. Motherhood is just going to be a part of our reality. We're living things and it's in our nature to reproduce. It is ultimately a choice but human nature is powerful. Antinatalism is not going to happen, sorry. And I feel like pregnancy is mocked. Women are mocked for things like morning sickness and cravings. Pregnant women often aren't taken seriously because of their "hormones". There's a reason why so many people find m-preg so humorous.

In many ways it does suck to be a mother, but that's because of societal issues. I do believe it's misogynistic to denigrate the concept or pregnancy as a whole. I'll never believe that something women's bodies are naturally able to do cannot coexist with female liberation.

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

W.C › 5.6k

Warnings › Chapter 1. Male omegas have a bit of a strange anatomy. Tried to explain it well. In any case, male omegas have pussies.

Plot › You go through a Pseudo heat and learn more about what your parents truly did to your body

Kinks › use of pussy, dirty talk, cumming untouched

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮:

𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨 & 𝘼𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙨

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞

“Do they hate me?”

“Mhm? Who is they?”

“You know.”

“I don’t, (Name).”

“Yes you do. But mom actually likes you.”

“This again?”

“Yukina is gone. Now I’m her target. Why can’t you see that?”

“It’s nonsense, that’s why. No mother could ever hate her child. No parent would ever hate their children. Familial love is one that can’t be replaced.”

“…Naoki would understand. But you… you…”

“Naoki? Seriously? Have you taken your suppressants?”

“Naoki says I shouldn’t take it! No one else takes it. You don’t even take it. My scent is sweet, it’s not sour like yours. It’s fine—”

“(Name), think for a moment. You being an omega is already enough on the family. Would it hurt you to just try and make our parents proud? Can’t you just do this one thing for them? For us?”

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞

“Will he be okay? Has he even gone through a heat before? Is he a late bloomer?”

Miya sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she glanced over at Watanabe. You were barricaded in your bedroom—the smell of heat spilling in from underneath the door. Watanabe was by the kitchen, his hands grasped tightly at the wooden chair Miya usually used when she wanted to cook without standing.

She could already see the chipped wood forming beneath his palms. The sound of the wood breaking slowly.

She’d complain about that another time. It was a shock Watanabe was even lucid enough to not bust the door down and mate you. This sight of Watanabe was interesting. His cool bad boy facade was long gone, replaced by an anxious alpha.

You’d think Watanabe had mated you ages ago.

“Mhm. I don’t know. He’s never had a heat before because of…” Her voice trailed off, her lips pursing together. Did he know? Would it be safe to tell him? Would you even want her to tell him?

“Because of?” Watanabe muttered, finally looking over at Miya. She could see his eyes were blown, unfocused. They looked to be struggling to not narrow in at your bedroom door.

Miya didn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet. The whole journey here she wanted to get you away from him. But she could tell just from his soured scent that he wasn’t focused on fucking you. He was genuinely scared right now.

“He presented late, that’s all.” It wasn’t a total lie.

A strangled moan left your bedroom and Miya could see in seconds Watanabe’s gaze zero in on your door. His grip tightened on the chair and she heard the wood crack. Slowly his palms bleed red as he grit his teeth, closing his eyes as he began to whisper something to himself.

Miya inched over to the door, ready to defend your safety if need be. She didn’t care that she only reached his chest, stomach really. She’d fight to the death for you if she had to.

A knock on the door caught her attention. “Huh? Who…?”

“My mom.” Watanabe suddenly whispered, moving his hand away from the chair. The chair was totally destroyed, coated in his blood. His hands had pricks and splinters as he plucked out the large ones and dropped them by the trash as he stiffly walks to the front door.

“When did you even call your mom?” Miya asked, wondering what his mother could possibly do in a situation like this.

“Texted.” He bluntly said, pulling the front door open.

A chubby woman with greying brown hair pulled into a neat bun was shown, dressed in a nurse garment. Ah, that’s why. Her lips were pursed as she narrowed at Watanabe’s bleeding hands. She pulled out a first aid kit from her bag and stepped inside, handing it over to Watanabe.

Ms. Watanabe glanced around the room before sniffing the air, a frown pulling on her lips as she noticed Miya by the door. “Ah, are you Tanaka’s alpha?” She asked, walking over to Miya.

Miya hummed, needing to get used to the title. “Ah.. Yes. Furukawa Miya.”

“Watanabe Hitomi. I’m a doctor that specializes in omegas healthcare. Ah, ignore the nurse garments, today was my day off, I just put whatever on.” She laughed to herself, smiling brightly.

“Mhm. Then… can you check on (Name)? He’s never had a heat before.”

“Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure I had permission.”

“Permission?”

“Yes. Alphas are so territorial! Even with betas like me,” she giggled. “Riki, you haven’t mated Tanaka yet, yes?”

Watanabe only grunted, busy bandaging his hands.

“I’ll be back, Furukawa-San.”

Miya bowed her head. “Thank you, Watanabe-San.”

“Ah, call me Hitomi. I have a feeling we’ll be like family soon.” Hitomi grinned, opening the bedroom door and stepping inside.

Hitomi couldn’t help her gasp as she slammed the door behind herself quickly, hoping none of your scent had slipped out. She pulled out a small packet of pills and a water bottle as she stepped over to your bed.

And there you were, nude burying your face into a sweater that was seeped in Miya’s citrus scent. You whined at the sight of Hitomi, too horny to care about your nudity. Hitomi’s beta scent was refreshing. Minty like any other beta. But it was nice. Miya’s scent was doing nothing for you.

But there was something in Hitomi’s scent that caught your attention, no matter how fuzzy it was.

Ume?

Riki? Does she know him? Mhm, Ume…

“Tanaka-San, I’m sorry this is how we meet. I’m Watanabe Hitomi, Riki’s mother. He wanted me to check on you because it’s your first ever heat, yes?”

You only whined at the mention of Riki’s name. Why wasn’t he here with you right now? Did he not want you? Were you not enough?

A cool hand against your neck caused you to flinch, your eyes opening again to look at Hitomi. She smiled softly, sitting down on the bed as she rest the water bottle on the night stand.

“It’s okay, Omega. Breathe. Your Alpha loves you.” She whispered, her voice motherly. “But he can’t be here. It’s your first ever heat, it’s a dangerous time for you, Pup. He could accidentally hurt you.”

You whined, feeling your fist tighten their grip on Miya’s sweater. Hurt you? Riki would never. He could never hurt you. Just what was this lady talking about?

Hitomi chuckled. “Well you can growl so I don’t need to check that.”

Growl? You didn’t even notice you were making any noise beside whimpering.

“I have something to help with the pain, Pup. It’s a heat suppressant. Have you taken any other suppressants? One that wasn’t only for heats?”

Shame creeped up on you as you looked away, biting your lip. Hitomi watched as you slowly nod. She didn’t say anything for a moment—as if waiting for you to elaborate. You slowly reached over and pulled open your night stand’s drawer.

“Is it in here?” She asked, looking over as she reached inside and pulled out the empty packets. You watched as her calm eyes began to widen in horror as she read the name. “…L…Limited X…?! Tanaka-San, are you serious?!”

She calmed down when you responded with a whimper, curling up into yourself further in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Pup. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Hitomi leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but purr.

Doctors aren’t supposed to be this loving but you would ignore it in the fact she was your alpha’s mother. Wasn’t she practically your mother now?

“Miya said you were a late bloomer… Was that a lie? Did you present?” She took your whine as a yes. “When did you start taking Limited X?”

A grunt left your throat as you parted your lips, “…nine…”

“Nine…? When.. When did you present?!”

“Nine…”

Hitomi pulled away. You saw from the corner of your eye her panicked expression as she whispered something herself. Was it that bad? Your situation couldn’t have been that rare. She let out a sigh before turning back over to you, a small smile on her lips.

“Your parents are awful, Pup. But it’s okay now. I got you.” She whispered, her voice shaky as she reached over and gently brushed your cheek. Her hand trailed down to your neck as she touched your scent gland. A broken gasp left her lips at the tough skin her fingers grazed.

“Mhm..?” You whined

“Your scent gland isn’t even…” Her look of surprise was soon replaced with fury. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head, patting your back as she stood up. “I’m sorry, Pup. I can’t let you take the suppressants. You need to let the heat run its course. Is there anything you want before I go? I’ll come back to visit you in a day or two.”

“Riki… I want Riki…”

“I’m sorry, but he can’t spend it with you. It’s for your safety, baby.”

“Please… Please… Want him…”

Hitomi pursed her lips as she glanced over at the door. “Okay. For a minute.” She left the room, leaving you alone. Your hand found the fluidity to toss Miya’s sweater across the room, wanting the citrus scent far away from your nose.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt a cool hand gently touch your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep. A low purr left your throat when your eyes met Riki’s. There he was.

Well, he was a bit far from you.

You hum and raise an eyebrow, reaching over to grab his hand and pull him closer. But he quickly resisted, pulling his hand away. The sound that leaves you is almost like that of a kicked puppy as you look at him in shock.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you were too far gone in your heat to speak now.

“Sorry… Sorry, I can’t get too close. It’s hard enough being here.” Riki muttered, his eyes looking at everything but you. You noticed his tense posture, back straight entirely with his fists clenched at his sides. The bandages wrapped around his fists catch your attention as you whimper, wondering how he got hurt in such a short amount of time.

Did Miya fight him??? Oh god, you hoped that they would get close not fight.

A strangled grunt leaving Riki’s chest made you look up at him, seeing his jaw set tight. Was your scent affecting him this badly?

“Ah, (Name), I can’t stay in here much longer.” Riki groaned, reaching down and pulling off his shirt. Your eyes widen as your legs clamp together, an eager smirk pulling on your lips. Neither can you, you felt as if you would burst if he just continued to stand there.

But whatever you thought was going to happened was ignored when he tossed the shirt at your face. Any disappointment was drowned out when you sniffed the shirt, sighing in relief at having the Japanese apricots fill your nostrils.

“Why didn’t she tell me you were naked….”

Your eyes peek open to see Riki moving away, the sound of his pants falling onto the ground causing you to purr in appreciation at the sight of his ass. He also tossed his pants at you. It hit your square in the face but you didn’t care, eager to just bury your nose in his scent.

“Riki…” You mewled, slick coating the bedsheets beneath you.

“Shh. If you say my name again I’ll cum.” He said bluntly, his hand gripping at his boxers before pulling them off. You couldn’t help the slight squeal that left you as he tossed the boxers to you. You forgot all about his pants and shirt as you bit at his boxers, purring at the fabric in your hands.

Ah, it was right against his cock.

You thought he was now coming to join you in bed but you whined as you watched him slip on some clothes. What?! What the fuck?! He changed into a plain old t-shirt and sweatpants. Where did he even get that?!

You felt like throwing a tantrum.

Here you were, pliant, soaking wet, practically begging for him. And he was only nice enough to give you his boxers?!

Riki finally turned around, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me those eyes. I’m following my mom’s instructions. I’ll visit you again tomorrow.” He walked over to you with his fingers pinching his nose. A slight giggle left your lips at the sight as he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your lips before quickly pulling away and sprinting to the door.

“Bye!” He yelled, closing the door behind him.

He was lucky he’s cute…

You glanced down at the boxers still in your hand and sighed. This will have to do for tonight.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Aren’t they cute?”

You kneel down, peering into the small pond. The koi fish swirl around each other as you poke your finger in the water. They disburse away from your small ripple, finding safety near the other side. A slight giggle leaves your lips.

“They’re funny.”

“Funny? Mhm, I don’t know. I think you’re more funny looking.”

A gasp leaves you as you turn over to face Naoki, pouting at the laugher that begins to escape him. He falls back onto his butt while you cross your arms together and fane a look of disappointment at his teasing.

“Meanie. The girls at my school say I’m cute. And that I smell sweet!”

“Do they? What did you bribe them with?”

“B..Bri…be..? What does that mean?”

Naoki only chuckled, reaching over to pull you close with him on the grass. “Ask your teacher. But you do smell sweet, (Name). My little pudding.”

“Well…! You smell like vanilla!”

“Vanilla? That’s too sweet for an alpha like me.”

“Don’t care. You’re sweet. Sweet alphas are better than smelly alphas like Daichi.”

“Really? Then I hope you get with an alpha with the sweetest scent there is.”

“Ew! I don’t like alphas. Only you and Miya. Yuck!”

Naoki laughed. You couldn’t remember his face. It hurt so much to only remember his heart shaped smile. Why couldn’t you remember his eyes? His nose? The only person to love you and you can’t even remember him properly?

“(Name), c’mon, drink this!”

A groan left your throat as your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. You looked to your left and saw Miya holding a glass of water. She smiled and reached down, wiping at your face before helping you sit up.

“Did you sleep well? You had a big smile on your face before I woke you up.” She asked, sitting down on the bed. You hummed absentmindedly, eager to quench your thirst.

“How long has it been?”

“A week.”

“Week?! Heats only last three days…”

“Yeah will you haven’t exactly gone through a heat before. Anyway, Hitomi-San came to visit you everyday to make sure you didn’t die.”

“Die?!”

Miya hummed. “You were sometimes so cold during the night or really hot. She would sometimes stay the night to make sure you didn’t stop breathing too.”

“Crap… I don’t remember anything that happened…”

“Well you didn’t do anything embarrassing if you’re worried about that.” Miya said, taking the empty glass from you. Her lip slightly twitched as she smirked. “Ah, wait, no that’s not true… you did embarrass yourself when Watanabe came.”

You froze, looking over at Miya with a look of fear. Miya smirked and began to laugh, enjoying your panicked expression.

“What?! What did I do?”

“It was so funny… Hitomi-San was cleaning the slick off your body when Watanabe came into the room to give you fresh clothes with his scent. You practically shoved Hitomi-San off the bed to launch yourself at Watanabe. I should’ve recorded it!!”

“Is Hitomi-San okay?!”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Watanabe wasn’t, you made him fall and knock his head against your desk! Then you started crying as if you killed him because he was knocked out for a second. Anyway he had to get stitches on the back of his head.”

You stared at Miya with your mouth agape, physically imagining the event in your head. You were so glad you couldn’t remember anything. It was already bringing you shame and embarrassment at the fact you literally attacked Riki just cause of your stupid heat.

Not to mention shoving away the woman who was helping you live… Gosh, you wanted to curl up and die.

Miya had finally stopped laughing and pulled out her phone, showing you a picture she must’ve took of that night. Sure enough, there you are, naked as the day you were born. Luckily enough Miya had cropped it to where it was only the upper half of your body.

You were straddling Riki, holding his face in your hands as you looked to be in a mid cry. There was a small amount of blood on the floor from what you could tell so he really did get hurt. Miya swiped, showing a short video that was Riki waking up, looking absolutely disoriented before narrowing in on you. Immediately a blush appeared on his face and he practically bucked you off of him.

Your cries were heard in the background as you were flung off camera. Video Miya yelled something about being careful while Hitomi had moved over to you. Riki moved to stood up but soon collapsed back onto the ground, earning a shrill scream from what you could only assume was yourself. The video soon ended with Miya accidentally turning the camera on your bare butt as you once again shoved Hitomi away to get to Riki.

That was…

“Oh my god.” You whispered, wanting to end it all right then and there while Miya laughed her ass off.

“I’ve never seen you act so animal like!” Miya laughed, wiping away the stray tears from her face. “It was nice. Felt like the first time you were truly yourself. Even if it was while you were butt naked, dripping slick all over the carpet.”

“Miya!!”

“What? It’s a normal bodily function. Don’t get embarrassed.” She patted you on the back and stood up, stretching. “Anyway, Hitomi-San and Watanabe will be here in a few hours. Take a shower… a long one.”

With that, she left your room, leaving it open as Ume sprinted inside. Ume purred as she jumped onto your bed and immediately got comfortable, curling into herself. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing Ume must’ve been upset to not have access to your room for such a long time.

She hated closed doors. Ume practically owned the place.

You rubbed at your neck, groaning as you stretched your sore body. Your body sputtered for a moment as your fingers gently rubbed against the lower center of your neck. It… was a bit softer?

It was still sold and rough but there was a slight softness that wasn’t there before.

It wasn’t too late for you…?

You could be mated?

You’d have to ask Hitomi. But you couldn’t help the slight giddy smile on your lips. You could be Riki’s if it really was softening… A slight glob of slick soaked the bedsheets beneath you. You groaned, rolling your eyes. This was going to have to take some getting used to.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Miya fiddled with her phone, her eyes flickering around as she closed the apartment door behind her. Her phone began to ring—startling her out of her thoughts as she quickly answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey. How are things there?” She whispered, walking to lean over the railing. Her dyed purple hair was pulled back into a small ponytail as the wind blew her bangs upward.

The voice on the other line as hushed and quiet.

“Terrible. He’s back.”

“Which one?”

“Obviously the eldest. He had a wedding ring on his finger. I think he’s married now.”

“Married…? He didn’t tell (Name)? Does he even have a mating mark?”

“That type of alpha would never let anyone mark him. Anyway, he talked to me as if we’re friends. The nerve.”

“Shit. Did he say anything weird?”

“Besides the fact he was not so subtly making fun of me for still living at mom’s place, no. He did insult me being a mangaka, I don’t remember telling him that. Did (Name) tell him?”

“Really, Yuzuru? (Name) doesn’t even talk to his mom unless she calls. He’s not talking to Daichi.”

“Watch your mouth. I’m still the oldest, little shit. I don’t have to do this spying shit for you.”

“Then say goodbye to your precious beta reader!”

“Wait! Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I still haven’t seen Naoki. I… huh?”

“Mhm? What’s wrong?”

“Uh… Daichi just came back with a woman… an omega I think.”

“Omega? No way in hell… those alpha elitist would never mate with an omega…” Miya waited for her brother to continue speaking but she soon heard the sound of a woman talking before the phone abruptly cut off.

She cursed, ready to call Yuzuru back when she saw Hitomi and Watanabe walk up the stairs to the complex. She’d have to call him back later. With a huff, she put her phone away and grinned, waving at Hitomi.

Hitomi smiled, her eyes closing into crescent moons. “Morning, Miya-Chan! I brought breakfast for you and Tanaka. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did! (Name)-Kun is doing great thanks to your help. He just woke up a few minutes ago.” Miya reached over and took the plastic bag away from Hitomi, opening the apartment door to let them inside. She rolled her eyes at Watanabe’s lack of greeting.

She could tell he was fidgety. His eyes quickly narrowing in on your bedroom door, practically waiting for you to come out so he could see if you were truly okay.

Hitomi pulled out a MedKit from her bag, going straight to your room. She didn’t knock, just pushed the door open before shutting it behind her.

Just your luck, you were putting on your underwear when she came in. You shrieked, reaching to cover your nude body from her eyes.

“Calm down, Pup. I’ve seen everything by now.” She said honestly, resting the MedKit on your nightstand as she pulled out what looked to be a thermometer and some pills. “Come here once you’re dressed.”

You slipped on a baggy t-shirt and shorts, wondering if you should bring up the whole… shoving incident. “Uhm… If… uh.. there.. was anything weird I did… while… y’know… in heat… I uhm…”

Hitomi glanced over at you. “You mean giving my son a concussion and having him bleed out on the floor?”

Your breathing halted, your eyes widening at her words. Well when she puts it that way…

Her gaze was harsh on you before a gummy smile pulled on her lips. “It’s okay, Pup. You aren’t the craziest patient I’ve had to dealt with. You were tame. Now c’mere.”

You walked over to where she was by your desk and watched as she held up the thermometer, motioning for you to pry your lips apart.

“Besides,” she said, slipping the thermometer into your mouth. “You look cute while crying. You cared so much for my Riki. I think if Miya hadn’t held you back, you would’ve followed us to the hospital.”

“Followed…?” You muttered, taking the thermometer out of your mouth to once it beeped. Hitomi took it from you and hummed. A good temperature you’d assume.

“Yes. You wouldn’t even let me touch Riki at first. Took Riki waking back up and telling you to calm down for you to finally release him.”

“I didn’t know omegas could be… territorial.”

“Everyone is territorial. Especially for someone they love. Omegas can be scary when they want to. You almost bit me.” Hitomi said nonchalantly.

“Bit?!”

“It’s fine. Like I said, you were like a kitten compared to other patients I’ve had.” She opened the bottle of pills and poured out two capsules, handing them over to you. “You seem fine. But you didn’t go through a full heat. It was just a pre-heat. Your full heat will be in two months.”

“Only a pre-heat…? But it was intense.”

“Mhm. It was. Your body was only getting you ready. You are severely underdeveloped,” she said, her tone turning serious. “I advise you to not have any penetrative sex until your hole… has grown.”

“Grown?”

“Yes. I checked it. It’s too small for an omega. Your cock should also become small as well.”

“What? Wait? I thought male omegas could have dicks?”

“Who told you that? Male omegas are born with dicks but they lose them during their first heat. Then a vagina begins to form and your dick will become a clit. Your hole is there, just too small to be called a vagina at the moment.”

“You weren’t talking about my butt hole..?”

“No.” Hitomi frowned. “Did no one teach you about male omegas? I know they’re rare but they should still teach you all about these things. You need to know your body…” Her lips pursed as if she was in thought before looking over at the door.

You glanced over, wondering if she saw something.

“Ah. Have Riki show you where your hole is. I’m sure you don’t want me touching it.” She said, putting away her materials. “You can also have him help you stretch it. It’ll help with the process.”

“S..Stretch it..?”

“Yes. Finger you. You can always finger yourself but at least let him show you where it is.” With that, she grabbed her MedKit and left the room, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.

Vagina…? Clit...? Fingering?!

You felt lightheaded. All this time, your body was underdeveloped. Your genitalia was a lie this entire time! Your cock was going to turn into a fucking clit!!!

“(Name)? Your scent soured.”

Your body jumped as the door was harshly pushed up, a tense Riki standing in the doorway. His eyes roamed your body—looking for any damage before pausing at your face. He tilted his head, walking over to you as he began to sniff you.

“What? Did my mom tell you bad news?” He asked, his hand reaching up, as if to touch your face but he stopped himself and placed it on your desk. You couldn’t help the slight whimper at that.

“No… No bad news. Just that—well—I’ll be growing a vagina!”

“Huh? You already have one. I saw it when we were in the classroom.”

“Hah?! You saw it?!”

“Mhm. It’s so tiny, I was wondering why it looked like that but I’ve never been with a male omega before.” Riki said nonchalantly, his posture relaxing now that he realized there was nothing wrong. “You’ve never felt it?”

You blushed. “Well, I don’t really masturbate touching myself down there.. just my cock.”

Riki tilted his head as a smirk pulled on his lips. “Mhm? You’ll have to learn the other way soon, your little cock is turning into a clit.” He laughed.

The urge to punch him the face was strong. He felt just like the Riki you met at the sushi restaurant. It was going to take some getting used to with Riki’s personality. It was like he could switch between a sadist and timid puppy.

“Uhm. Your mom.. said that you could help.”

“Help? You want me to touch your pussy?”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked at everything but him. “Don’t call it that!”

“Why can’t I? Is it not a pussy?” Riki grinned as he moved closer, his nose teasing your neck as he leaned down. Your breathing hitched as you subconsciously tilted your head, giving him easy access to your scent gland. “I was sad that I’ll have to wait so long to properly fuck you…”

His hand grasped your crotch, earning a stuttered gasp from you as your body tensed. Your hand gripped the desk behind you for stability as he harshly fondled you. “But fingering you until you get a proper pussy sounds hot. I’ll be making a pussy just for me to touch. For me to fuck. For me to knot whenever I please.”

“Riki…” you gasped. The thought was already intoxicating. Any fear you had about this new body part growing was long gone at the thought of Riki truly molding you into something just for him. You were only disappointed that you’d have to wait so long to get what your body so desperately craves.

Only two month… You can last two months…

“Do you like that? The thought of your body changing itself just from my touch?” He whispered, his hand gripping your cock through your shorts. Your body arched against the desk as you feel your legs part to give Riki easier access.

“Nngh… That’ll… That’ll make me good for Alpha.” You manage to whine, looking up at him with watery eyes. Riki’s eyes widen before he chuckled, pressing a kiss on your neck.

“You’re already a good omega for me, (Name). But I won’t lie and say you getting a pretty pussy won’t make me happy. I can already imagine sinking my fingers inside, stretching you wide before I stuff you with my knot. Would you like that, Omega? My knot stretching you, ruining you for me and only me?”

A strangled cry left your throat as the thought clouded your mind and your hands gripped the desk, your toes curling. Your body felt as if it was spasming until you felt a growing wetness in your shorts.

Riki released your crotch as he glanced down, a laugh leaving his lips. “You came untouched. Did I excite you that much?”

“Shut up.” You weakly whine, wanting to curl up into a ball and die.

“Ahem.”

You and Riki’s body froze as there was a slight knock on the door. There stood Miya, her face unimpressed.

“We are still here, by the way. Maybe close the door if you’re going to start having sex.” She said, “Also there’s breakfast, (Name)… come get it after you take a shower… again.”

This was it. You were going to die of embarrassment.

Riki looked as if he’d seen a ghost. You could tell he must’ve realized his mother heard his dirty talking. Hopefully they didn’t hear everything…

“Uh… We can talk about the whole fingering thing later.” You whispered.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

In front of him, he stood tall, overpowering. His scent was musky—drowning out any other scent in the room. Brown eyes flickered around the living room before settling on a framed picture on the wall near the TV.

You, so young and cute, a wide smile while Miya hugged you tightly against her chest. It was an older picture, around the age of thirteen. Yuzuru was standing behind the both of you, aged eighteen, a small slight smile on his lips. His large circular glasses taking up half of his face.

Daichi looked over Yuzuru now, sitting on the couch across of him. Glasses long gone and smile replaced a tight frown. It was a shame, Daichi thought to himself. Yuzuru was supposedly an omega but looked nothing like it.

He took another look at Yuzuru, wondering how he gained so much weight. Yuzuru wasn’t the stick thin omega he was back in high school. He was fuller, his mother must be over feeding him.

Yuzuru kissed his teeth together, catching Daichi’s attention. “If you’re done scrutinizing me, why are you here?”

Mrs. Furukawa gently patted Yuzuru’s lap, giving him a tight smile. “What Yuzu was saying.. Is what made you want to visit us? It’s been forever.”

Daichi grinned, opening his coat and pulling out an envelope. “It’s nothing special.” He said. “Yuzuru is almost in his late twenties and my colleagues mentioned something about a blind date for omegas to find an alpha. I’m sure… it would be helpful for your case.”

A pin could be dropped as Yuzuru’s eyes widen, his lips parting as his fingers dug into the armchair of the couch. He looked ready to blow, jump across this stupid coffee table and show Daichi what he was made of. But his mother grabbed his arm as she grabbed the envelope from Daichi.

“Is that?” She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.

“Ah. Yes… You have (Name)’s address, yes? I want to talk to him.”

“Why would I willingly give you his address?” Yuzuru muttered.

“Well… It’s been ages since I’ve seen my little brother.. I wanted to check up on him.”

“You can call him.” Yuzuru whispered.

Daichi hummed. “I guess I could. I suppose I wanted to get a better look at you, Yuzuru. Since you seem to be so interested in me these days.”

Yuzuru froze, looking away. He noticed? What the fuck?

With the tension tight and heavy, Daichi left without another word.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were gently drying your hair when you grabbed your phone off the night stand. There was texts and emails that you didn’t care too much about responding to except one from a number you didn’t recognize.

It was just a picture that they sent.

You clicked on the picture and felt the color drain from your face.

It wasn’t just one picture. It was two.

One picture of an ultrasound.

And another of a wedding.

Daichi and a woman you’ve seen before.

But she was an omega… Why would someone like Daichi marry her?

But that wasn’t the most important thing you cared about. No, you cared more about who she was. Who she was before supposedly becoming Daichi’s wife, his mate.

Naoki’s ex girlfriend.

Sorry for the wait! I just recently moved to my college dorms, forgot to write lol. Hopefully it won’t take too long for chapter 3, there will be actual smut in that one, trust.. ask to be added to the tag list for riki’s story. Some people don’t show up when I try to tag them tho, sorry about that :/ also there’s a limit smh

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @lanoslamp @sweetheart4you @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @remdayz @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @chososlittlestuttyboy @terapung @gay4letti @lixamplanet @oreoqueen @1account2blogs @hnazwan @blaxvoid @theorye @yanrandom @berrycolaa @darlinqvi @diamondnightsky23 @yourn0tmydad @https-tan-com @kiekole @cinder-angel @yuzuukix @sugar-p0p @anime-meme-sanctuary @caffineandoranges @barbatos-mybeloved @gaynesspersonified @sheepame @snowtiger00 @kgeyamaa @teoluvsyou @chweuphoria @sooobiinn @hope0o0 @yoon-zino @mef0rg0r @gojosdumpydump @me-when-life

Translations:

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞ — brother, why didn’t you protect me?

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞ — why? It’s painful, Naoki

[whimsyfinny]

Fix Your Attitude

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) is just like an other woman trying to function in this fucked up world - and she's starts her day with coffee. At least that was always the plan until Dean interfered.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, slightly Dom! Dean, and if you squint there's maybe possessive/jealous Dean

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 4470

A/N: So this is technically my first ever one shot! Woop! I've written this as part of my competition from a few weeks back, and this is for the wonderful winner @spookyysinsanity ! Hope you enjoyyy.

“Seriously, Dean? What the actual fuck!?” The audacity of the older Winchester brother had me throwing my hands up in frustration, my irritable tone bouncing off the walls in the kitchen and landing on ears that couldn’t possibly care any less.

“Should’ve got here sooner, sweetheart. You know how it is; first come first serve,” he tauntingly raised his coffee mug to my dishevelled figure standing over the empty coffee pot. The lack of caffeinated bean-water had brought a panic-sweat to my temples, knowing all too well how things would pan out if I didn’t get what I needed.

“How many cups have you had?”

“What?” He blinked frustratingly slowly - he knew what I’d asked.

“Jerk - I said ‘how many cups have you had’?”

“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger against the side of the mug, lips pursing over feigned thoughts.

“DEAN.”

“Maybe… three?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly - although the nonchalant bubble popped when a sly smirk slipped through the cracks. My mouth opened and closed a few times, words forming and disappearing too rapidly through my mind to even make it past my lips as desperation sizzled into rage.

“You DICK!”

“Hey don’t yell at me - just make another pot,” he held his hands up defensively.

My eyes flitted over to the empty tin on the side - an empty tin left tauntingly in plain sight.

“You know damn well I can’t do that! We’re out of coffee, totally out. Zilch. Nothing. Empty.”

“Well,” he lifted his mug to his lips, “not totally empty.”

“What do you- oh…OH,” I felt my razor sharp glare zero in on the mug at his lips - there had to be at least half a cup in there with how little he had to tilt it up before taking a gulp. I took a step forward and jabbed my finger towards the prize.

“Give me that.”

He offered me nothing but raised eyebrows and a loud slurp.

“Dean.”

Again, silence only echoed back, however my frustration towards him started to buzz in my head as he slowly lowered the mug to unveil a slap-worthy grin.

“DEAN.”

He gently placed the mug on the table and turned to me, large arms crossing over his broad chest as he settled in his chair, thighs spreading wide for comfort.

“Wow, I thought I was grouchy in the mornings before coffee but damn, sweetheart you’re really claiming first place with that one.”

I took a step closer, my eyes practically burning a hole in the cup next to him on the table. His grin widened as he noticed me stalking forwards, like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. However my prey was incredibly suspecting and, in all honesty, not really prey at all. My bare feet padded quietly towards him, each tentative step raising more suspicion in Dean as my desperation for caffeine became all-consuming and my honed hunting skills became sloppy. I gave myself away when I tore my gaze from the mug and glanced over at Dean, catching his amused smirk and playful eyes before I lunged forward, hands grasping at air where the liquid-treasure should have been. Spinning on my heel after almost colliding with the table I turned to face Dean, now standing a few steps behind me with one hand wrapped around the ceramic and the other dipping lazily into the pocket of his jeans.

“Come on darlin’ you’re better than that.”

“Fuck you.”

A low whistle floated in the air between us before he tutted at me, shaking his head slowly.

“So mean.”

“Says you!”

“Hey I got here first - I'm the victim here. You're the one trying to rob me.”

“Don't play that game - you are not the victim here. All of your bullshit has been calculated,” I narrowed my eyes up at him as he traced his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Maybe it has been. Not much you can do about it now though is there?” His eyes glinted like the tricksters before he took another gulp of his coffee. I could feel my palms growing sweaty in apprehension, knowing all too well that the coffee level was dropping inside that cup.

Time to try a different approach. Something more… tactical.

“You know…” I pulled a lock of hair between my fingers, twirling it around, “you're my favourite Winchester.”

I paused and he raised his eyebrows, suspecting yet silently urging for more.

“Sam is just so nice and tall but…” I quietly stepped towards him, inwardly cheering when he made no attempt to move away.

“But?”

“But I mean look at you, so ruggedly handsome… and with that authentic ‘tough guy’ personality to make all the ladies swoon. And don't even get me started on these broad shoulders and big arms of yours…” I padded around him, tracing a single finger delicately up one arm, over the back of his shoulders and down the other arm. I almost missed the small shiver that ghosted over his skin and raised the hairs on his exposed forearms.

“Oh, so you like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice subtly dropping to a deeper tone.

I chewed my bottom lip slightly before stopping in front of him, a hair's breadth away. From here I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne - the same one I'd only ever known him to wear - and the subtle, intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder. Combined, those three items were the very essence of Dean, the warmth of it all clinging to his clothes and practically seeping from his pores. I couldn't stop myself from taking a deep breath and letting the hypnotic scent travel straight to my brain. He’d always smelt divine, but I was never going to give him the satisfactory access to that information.

Upon tilting my head up to lock eyes with him, I could feel his coffee-scented breath fan over my face, the smell of what I wanted most almost making my mouth water. I couldn't let myself become enveloped in the addictive haze around him - I needed to remember what I was here for without letting myself become distracted.

Evergreen eyes flitted between mine, unsure of my next move. But the more I looked into them, the more dilated his pupils became. I couldn't help but grin a little to myself, relishing in his reaction.

“Come on Dean, just hand over the coffee. I know deep down that you really want to…”

He hummed, the sound a little gravelly as it emanated from his chest.

“You see sweetheart,” he smirked a little as he gripped the mug, lifting it to his lips. The action immediately caused me to take an urgent step forwards, a part of me truly believing that he would drain the cup right there and then. He must've seen the panic jolt through me as he released a small, breathy laugh.

“I see what?”

“You see… I don't think it's coffee that you need to stop being such a bitch in the morning.”

My eyes immediately narrowed towards him at his choice of words. He can make it so easy to look past his good looks when he acts like such an ass.

“What the actual fuck does that mean?”

“Oh I think you know what it means.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

“If you want.”

“Go to- wait what?” I felt my heart leap in my chest, my mind unsure if I wanted to have heard him correctly.

His smirk spread across his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his mossy green gaze dragging over my figure as though I were totally naked.

“You heard me,” he took a step forward, his boots heavy on the hard kitchen floor. My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from whatever scandalous thoughts of him I'd pushed to the back of my mind that I never intended to humour, or the rage bubbling to the surface at the sheer audacity from him, thinking I'd just accept this sort of shitty attitude.

“You’re crazy if you think that I’d let you in my pants,” the bewilderment in my voice was evident, and so was the growing frustration. This conversation had taken a wild turn and it’s safe to say that I didn’t like the direction it was headed. It was a rocky path of buried desires and a cocky male ego - a male ego that somehow knew what buttons to press to get my temper sizzling.

“Oh but sweetheart I could make it so good…” his voice was like caramel, becoming harder to ignore as he took another step forward, backing me into the table. I swallowed the almost nervous lump that had started to form in my throat, my heart rate quickening with every second he looked at me with those darkening eyes.

“And why would you want to do that?” I did well at hiding the slight nervous wobble in my voice. He chuckled slightly before breaking eye contact and looking down at his boots, thinking for a moment before shooting his eyes back to me, his intense gaze burning into mine.

“Because for once, I’d love to see that smart mouth of yours moan my name.”

I couldn’t stop that small gasp that escaped between my parted lips at his sudden bold statement, and that small gasp seemed to be all that it took to invite Dean in. In one fluid movement he drained the remainder of the coffee into his mouth and took a final step forward, closing the gap between us and wrapped a single strong arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. His other hand quickly discarded the mug before grasping my face, his thumb pushing into my cheek and urging me to open my mouth. Before I was able to conjure a single thought he’d pulled my mouth to his, his plush lips covering mine before transferring that mouthful of coffee over to me. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of warm liquid gliding over my tongue, the flavour of coffee, sweetened with sugar, would have soothed my senses if it wasn’t for the way it was administered. I hurriedly swallowed it down, not caring for the trickle that escaped the corner of my lips, now more preoccupied with Dean Winchesters mouth pressing onto mine. He allowed one… two… three heated kisses before pulling away, leaving me gasping and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. As he pulled away, he released his grip on my jaw, spotting the trickle of coffee and catching the droplets with his thumb. I didn’t intend to dwell on the action too much, at least not until he pushed his coffee-coated thumb past my lips and into my mouth, pressing lightly on my tongue. Still taken aback by the kiss, I stared up at him dumbly, my mind simultaneously racing whilst emptying itself of all logical thoughts. On instinct, I licked the coffee from his thumb, hearing a gruff hum of approval from him.

“Look at you - quiet for once.”

Before I could retaliate to his comment he pulled his thumb from my mouth and grasped my jaw again, a little softer this time as he guided my face to his. His lips grazed mine as he spoke.

“Have you finished acting like a bitch?”

I nodded.

“Are you sure? Because I think I should fuck you on this table here - just to be sure.”

The involuntary shiver that shimmied down my spine gave my innermost thoughts away when Dean noticed it; another smirk gracing his lips as he pulled himself between my knees and grasped under my thighs to lift me onto the table. I hissed slightly as the cold surface bit at my bare rear, the oversized Metallica t-shirt doing nothing to shield me as it rode up on my hips. There was a short moment, like a breath taken and held as we paused to look at each other. His eyes darkened like a forest at dusk, piercing into my own before studying my lips. I found myself doing the same to him, watching how his gaze darted up and down, frantic to find a focal point on my face whilst his lips parted, tongue poking out to wet them. We shared each other's hot coffee-scented breath, my heartbeat starting to echo in my ears as my blood began to run hot at the thought of him taking me right here on this table. He chewed slightly on his bottom lip, the fantasies of my own prurient mind running rampant at what that mouth was capable of doing to me. What I undeniably wanted it to do to me. Before another thought appeared he hastily leaned in and planted a searing kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling my ear whilst one large, strong hand planted itself just below my shoulder blades; his whole arm crushing me against him. Everything he did made me want to purr. His lips exceeded expectations as he kissed red-hot paths up and down my neck; my skin prickling when he pressed his lips below my ear and jaw, pulling pathetic whimpers from my lungs. He kneaded the silky-soft flesh of my thigh with his other hand, eventually causing me to gently hook my legs around him to ease the desperate need to writhe at his every touch.

“Dean…” his name left my lips as an airy gasp when the hand on my thigh travelled up, his thumb hooking under the waistband of my panties.

“What happened to that big, tough girl persona? Can’t really take it huh?” His taunting words went straight to my brain when he spoke them with his lips pressed right to my ear.

“Fuck, Dean… I hate you.”

He chuckled, placing a kiss on my cheek before uttering over my lips:

“Of course you do, sweetheart.”

As his sentence ceased as his mouth claimed mine, muffling the moan bubbling in my throat as his tongue pushed against my own. I reached one hand up to tug on his hair, dragging my nails across his scalp when the strands at the base of his skull were too short to grasp. He groaned into the kiss, lips moving faster at the sensation of my fingertips. His broad chest became a resting spot for my other hand, the taught muscle flexing beneath soft skin as I glided my delicate fingers up to clutch his shoulder. It was like being in a trance; the only thing I was capable of thinking about was him. Dean. The strength of his hand on my back contrasting the tenderness of the one on my thigh. The heat of his mouth, his tongue on mine, consuming my gasps and ragged breaths. His devouring reduced me to naught but lustful putty in his arms, especially when an assured hand slid from my hip to my ribs and a gentle thumb smoothed over the softness of the underside of my breast. The feather-light touch caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin, the warmth of his palm doing nothing to soothe them away. When a groan passed my lips at his actions, he gripped tighter, my legs instinctively pulling him closer. This time it was Dean that groaned, as pulling him towards me had pressed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans against the soft cotton of my panties. The sensation was electric, igniting the fiery ache between my legs as my thighs twitched when he didn't pull away - instead pushing himself against me harder. I sucked in a breath where I could, his lips refusing to leave mine, even to let me breathe. He was hungry. Animalistic. Dominating. I don't know what I'd been imagining when I was alone in my room in the depths of night, but this… this was something I'd never fantasised about. How commanding he was, how he pulled me in with stern words and an air of authority. Gone was the boyish charm and playful pickup lines - this was something that could easily suck me in and pull me under. He could drown me in sharp comments and tantalising games.

And I would let him.

“Look at you, twitching like a virgin,” he pulled away enough to huskily speak against the corner of my mouth. I moaned slightly, biting my lip when his thumb moved from the underside of my breast to my nipple, delicately toying with the perky skin.

“Who's to say I'm not?” My voice was more breathy than I'd anticipated, my head lolling back when he started to trail kisses down my neck again. My comment pulled a laugh from his chest, the sound almost cutting through the sexual haze.

“Oh darlin’, don't think I don't know about your motel room escapades - I was always in the room next to yours,” he finally pulled back slightly to look at me, the cool air flooding between us in his absence. As my eyes met his, my heart hammered in my chest at the raw blackness of his irises - pupils blown wide with hot arousal and leaving no soft greens in sight. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, realisation creeping in. Dean took it all in with a grin on his lips.

“That's right sweetheart - I heard it all. Every little noise you made when those jerk-offs touched you. When they tried to make you feel good,” his smile faltered slightly before he leaned in a little closer, “but you know, I never heard any of them make you cum. I only ever heard you finish when they were gone and you were all alone.”

He pressed more of those red-hot kisses just below my jaw, the hand on my breast descending, trailing a path down the soft skin of my abdomen before disappearing down the front of my panties. A moan tore from my throat when he slid his skilled fingers through my folds to gather my pooling wetness, his hum of approval ringing in my ears when my mind emptied at his fingers tracing circles around my clit. My grip on him was vice-like, whimpers already tumbling off my tongue.

“You know (Y/n), you should've just come to me. You should've told those useless bastards to fuck off and let me do everything you needed me to do,” his breath was hot against my neck as he spoke, and he finished his sentence off by finally pressing a rough finger against my clit. I whined like a bitch in heat as he went around and around and around, making me clench around nothing and crave him in his entirety.

“I would've done this to you every night - made you forget everything but my name.”

“Dean…”

“Thas’right sweetheart. Never would've left you unsatisfied.”

“Please, Dean… please… I need you to fuck me,” my words were desperate and I could tell he relished in that, suddenly plunging two thick digits inside me without so much as a word. My hands flew to his back, nails digging into broad muscle as I leaned into him, burying my flushed face into his neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent. He curled his fingers up and pushed against the pleasure-cushion inside me, knowing exactly what to look for and what to do with it. My legs tightened even more around him as I was unable to stop the euphoric twitches jolting through my limbs. He removed his hand that was pressed below my shoulder blades and lifted it to my hair, unclipping the claw-grip to let the unruliness tumble out. He practically chucked the plastic clip to the table before threading his fingers through my hair, grasping close to my scalp before tugging my head back to make me look at him.

“Now that you've dropped your attitude and asked nicely, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.”

He pressed his fingers inside me one final time, drawing another pathetic whimper from my lips before pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. I watched, mouth agape and breaths ragged as he licked my slick from his digits, savouring the taste of me with a satisfied groan.

“That’s the best shit I’ve ever tasted,” his deep, gravelly tone had me reaching desperately for his belt buckle as Dean claimed my mouth again, his own eagerness starting to show. As I finished unzipping his jeans I pushed them down his hips just enough to dip my hand into his boxers and pull his cock free. A deep moan pushed its way into my mouth as I curled my fingers around his length, his size already intimidating as his cock rested hot and heavy in my palm. I wasted no time on gripping him tight, starting gentle motions going up and down again, and again, and again, causing Dean to move both hands to my thighs - his grip on me threatening to leave bruises. I dragged my thumb over his tip, urging a blissful shudder to surge through him as I smeared the gathering precum up and down his length. His lips never once left mine. I could feel him becoming breathless as I slowly increased the speed of my hand, so I caught his bottom lip between my teeth as a means to pull away for a moment. As I breathed in his contented groan, I pulled back slightly further to get a look at his face.

“Dean… Dean please - I need you inside me-”

“Stop fucking around then and c’mere.”

I squeaked a little at his harsh tone, unable to stop the next words from tumbling out.

“Yessir.”

I watched his brows knit together and his eyes almost roll before he dropped his head to my neck, grabbing the underside of my thighs and dragging me right to the edge of the table. With one hand he grabbed his cock and used it to move my underwear to one side before lining up and sinking in. The lascivious moans that spilled from our lips were almost harmonious, Dean pushing in to the hilt and forcing me to wrap one arm around his neck and the other to prop me up behind me - both stopping me from losing my balance under Deans intensity. Dean looked as though he was getting lost in a sexual haze as he crushed me against him again with one arm, having the decency to remain still for a few moments so I could adjust to his size as he eye-wateringly stretched out my insides - the sensation almost burning.

“Jesus- fuck-” his breath was slightly strained as he groaned into my neck, “now I’m mad that you decided to fuck lonely jerk-offs instead of me - with a pussy like this- shit- I would’ve been crawling back for more.”

He started to move slowly, pulling out gently before slipping back in - easing me into it with sexual expertise.

“Oh fuck- Dean- you don’t mean that-”

“(Y/n) you’d have to shoot me to stop me - you feel too fucking good.”

He started to up the tension - dropping every ounce of softness as he lost control of that part of him. He fucked the same way that he hunted monsters: raw, skilful and always in control - my mind racing with the knowledge of how dangerous this man actually was. He was Dean fucking Winchester, and here he was - fucking me over the breakfast table whilst I wore nothing but a band t-shirt. As he pounded into me and the intensity grew I was unable to stop the lewd noises tumbling from my lips. Such lewd noises however seemed to spur Dean on, the power of his thighs and hips inching the heavy wooden table across the floor.

“How are you still so fucking tight-” his words were almost slurred, his sexually inebriated mind seemingly becoming obsessed.

“Shit- Dean, I’m getting close already,” my eyes squeezed shut as I began to feel that familiar knot in the depths of my core. With every thrust he dragged over every over-sensitive nerve ending, unravelling me quicker than I’d even been unravelled before.

“Oh yeah? You wanna cum?”

I nodded my head vigorously, loose strands of hair falling around my face as tears started to well in my eyes. Dean glanced down at me without so much as a stutter in his hips, a slight grin playing on his lips even in a moment like this.

“Tears?”

“Fuck-fuck- you Dean, it's not my f-fault you're the first one to fuck me properly- oh God-”

“Well I'm glad it was me sweetheart,” he tried to keep up the slightly playful tone but I could see in his eyes that he was on the brink as well. Without another word he moved one hand to push lightly on my lower belly, his thumb dipping down to rub soft circles over that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the contact, Dean taking the opportunity to plant uncharacteristically soft kisses on my parted lips before whispering:

“I need you to cum for me - I need you to let go. I've got you darlin’.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The circles drawn with his thumb increased in speed and as did the pounding of his hips against mine.

“Dean- Dean please-”

I could feel him winding that knot tighter, and tighter, and tighter; lifting the euphoria coursing through my veins to its highest peak before the white-hot heat of orgasmic bliss erupted inside me. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure cascaded down, drowning me in the most earth shattering climax I'd ever experienced. I could feel myself tightening repeatedly around Dean, his thrusts becoming frantic before his own release rolled through him.

“Oh Fuck- (Y/n)-”

His guttural groan into the crook of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin, the sound of him cumming making me clench even tighter around him.

“You squeeze me any tighter darlin’ and you're gonna kill me,”

“I-I’m not- I mean- I'm sorry?”

He groaned again when I twitched slightly, this time he pulled back to look me in the eye, taking note of the drying tear-tracks and smudged mascara.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, I'm good,” I huffed out a deep, contented sigh, "I am so, so good.”

He grinned, the assertiveness from earlier seeming to dissipate and the good ‘ol Dean was returning.

“Best you've ever had?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.

I playfully slapped his shoulder, not impacting the smirk on his lips whatsoever.

“Easy there cowboy - if your ego gets any bigger there'll be no living with you.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, making him wait a little for the answer before I replied with a grin of my own.

“Yeah, definitely the best I've ever had.”

————————————————————

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200

[unholyhelbig]

request: oversight au, nat and reader run into reader’s ex or ronnie’s father who was abusive to them… how will mob nat react?

Title: Old Flames [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader has an unexpected run-in with an old flame and things go less than well, Natasha takes things into her own hands.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Talks of past domestic abuse, talks of abortion, buried alive references, broken glass, blood (always), Heights, threatening statements, non-consensual kiss, horrible grammar (aways).

[a/n: Okay, I had way too much fun with this. While I loved writing the main story, it's also super great to branch out into some more dynamics with Mob Boss Nat, because I haven't made her mean enough yet.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

The apartment building on the corner of twelfth and Hawke was a large midcentury brick building that structure that stretched to the sky. A metal fire escape latticed up the side and stretched clotheslines dripping with shirts and pants connected it to the adjacent building that had long since been used for storage.

Up until this point, you had avoided this building. Luckily, the tenants were quite timely with their rent and left little need for an enforcer to knock door to door. But it was right after the holidays and things were tough. That much, you understood. But it didn’t’ change the fact that three units were more than two months behind on their rent.

Them, you could appeal to with hot chocolate and some gentle urging. But according to Clint, there was a particularly nasty group of people living on the top floor that had gotten multiple noise complaints thrown their way.

The address hadn’t seemed familiar until you stood at the entrance and got a good look at the golden door that contrasted the rest of the structure. You’d written the code to the door on your palm, and you were having trouble differentiating the last number. It was a zero, or it was an eight.

“Gross, you’re sweaty.” Kate had pulled your hand a small distance from her scrutinizing stare, trying to read the smeared purple markings. “I knew we should have used the napkin.”

The woman dropped your hand and stepped up to the small box on the side of the entryway. She hit every button known to man until the fragile voice cracked through the speaker. “Yeah, uh-huh, pizza. I have pizza. Pepperoni-“Her ramblings were cut off by the loud buzz in.

You were treated to an innocent smile as she wrenched open the door and allowed you to follow her in. She was innovative, annoyingly so. Most of the time it worked in your favor but sometimes you found her testing your temper just to prove a point. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your hesitation.

It was coming back to you now; the large entryway that was lined with lock and key mail slots and a bolstered wooden staircase that was scarcely used compared to the elevator. Natasha kept good care of the place, had repainted and made sure every single lightbulb was humming in synch.

Some would say that she improved the neighborhood, block by block. But there were still those who liked the way things used to be; living paycheck to paycheck with an angry and withering stare being sent your way with each collection call.

“I’ve got Miss Henderson.”

“Oh, come on.” You protested “She sounds so cool.”

Miss Henderson was an older woman who lived on the fifth floor. Most of the time, her rent was late because it had simply slipped her mind. One look at Kate and she’d write a check before offering some of the sweetest cookies you’d ever tasted, often sending her back with a plateful.

From what you had heard, she used to travel with a circus as an acrobatic performer. Her act was death-defying; a performance that relied on her partners quick bladework. The Swordsman and his Enchantress. There were illustrations of their travels hung up around her unit- ones that you would kill to see.

“Too bad, next time.” Kate mock pouted at you before clapping you on the back. “Don’t make too much of a mess up on the top floor, alright? I don’t want to scrub carpets today.”

She took the stairs two at a time and left you alone in the lobby. A cool blast of wind hit your back as a tenant walked in with their dalmatian, pink tongue lolling to the side as his owner checked the mail, barely sparing you a glance.

The type of New York residents that occupied this space had changed greatly. The last time you’d been here was a walk of shame that left your feet raw and bleeding. You’d rushed from the apartment with so much fever that you never returned for your shoes, or your dignity, for that matter.

This time, you had shoes on, ones that you had scrubbed free of blood until they looked presentable. They were leaden on the stairs up to the top floor. Once you reached the fifth, you could hear Kate’s distinctive laugh behind the oak door. At least she was close.

The top floor was nearly silent. You could hear a television, a hockey game that you’d been listening to sparingly on the way over here. It sounded like Toronto was pulling through. The sound of a beer cracking pulled you away from the muffled announcers words.

A radio was resting in an upper window. You and Kate had heard it from the street below, a French Pop station that you could barely make out the words of. French was never your strong suite, one language requirement in high school was enough for you.

Silently, you prayed, that it was a coincidence. That the radio didn’t’ belong to the very men that you were meant to speak to. They were flighty, you told yourself. They weren’t ones to stay and if they chose to stick around after all these years- well, you’d be impressed.

You knocked twice on the center door, the deep forest-green paint threatening to chip under the elements. The music stopped abruptly, and while you could hear that someone was whispering quietly in French, you couldn’t make out the words.

The man that opened the door was too familiar for your liking; his pale waxy skin, his deep brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, the tattoos that were smattered in different designs against his throat, down his collarbone. Pockmarked on his arms. His hair was longer than you remembered, greasier and tied up in a bun.

He took you in for a singular moment, shock reflecting in his stare, but before he moved to shut the door. You stopped the action with one strong hand, putting your boot between the frame and the wood for extra measure. “Don’t be like that, Kazi.”

“All these years, and now you’re coming back for child support?”

He raked his eyes up and down your body in a way that made you feel violated. You held your stance. He seemed impressed by the bout of strength.

You tsked “if I wanted child support, I would have gone after it by now. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He scratched under the sleeve of his tank-top, considering you the same way you considered him. Eventually, he seemed to figure he had nothing to lose pulling the door back and letting you enter the apartment. Waves of memory washed over you.

Kazi still had the same futon covered in the same ratty blanket. There was a kitchen table that was stacked with different folders that he would never, in a million years, let you view. A blue funnel was drying on the dishrack, and countless liquor bottles that had been emptied and cleaned were lined up, ready to be filled with the slightest bit of homebrewed alcohol.

He was still running the same scam after all of these years. You remembered liking the danger about him, the way his stubble felt against you when you straddled him. He’d been so alluring to a good girl like you. He would street race at night with another guy you’d met a handful of times, Robbie Reyes.

God, you had been so naive back then. He was drawn in by your innocence and you were entrapped by his experience. If only you knew where you’d end up in seven years; with Kazi’s biological daughter being raised by the most powerful woman in the city.

The moment you told him you were pregnant, he told you bluntly to get rid of it. That same night, he’d thrown an empty liquor bottle at you, just barely missing your head. You’d refused outright and accepted his anger in turn. Glass shards cut into the soles of your feet, and stained the snow all the way back to your dorm room.

The way he stared at you now infuriated you. “What do you want, then?”

“You’re two months late on rent.”

“I figured you’d keep tabs. Most women do. But my rent? That’s a new one.”

You picked up a small paperweight that you remember being fond of when you returned to this apartment after a first date where Kazi was a perfect gentleman. He’d bought dinner, and walked you back to his place. The glass object was tinted yellow, a small mosquito suspended in the center. He must have gotten it in a museum gift shop.

“Truthfully, I’m shocked you still live here.” You tested the weight of the object. “Most landlords aren’t very lenient about tardiness.”

“Yeah, well. She’s not very attentive. What can I say?”

Oh, but Natasha was quite attentive in more than one aspect, at that. You couldn’t’ help the smile that spread against your lips. Kazi was growing agitated with your presence, always quick to temper.

With all the strength you could muster, you threw the paperweight at the wall directly behind him. In its innate cheapness, it shattered into a million pieces, littering the carpet and slicing little bites into his skin. Kazi flinched and covered his face with his arms.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the hell!” He screamed.

“You have two weeks to backdate the rent, Kazi. Another week to get us this month’s amount. That sounds reasonable to me. Attentive, even.”

He reached into the back of his sweatpants and pulled out a silver Kimber, pumping the top chamber and aiming it at you with a shaky hand. He was too lax with his hold. A pinprick of crimson was dripping from a cut on his cheek.

“Come on, Kazi. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure you can push some half-rate liquor. Sell a few of your gold fillings, and come up with the money my employer is required.”

“Employer? You work for that… monster?”

“Now, there’s a big word.” You closed the distance between the two of you, not giving him a moment to react before you wrenched the gun from his hand and threw it onto that ratty old blanket that adorned the futon he’d found on the side of the road. “So much horrible implication behind it too. You shouldn’t name call.”

Your boots crunched against the shattered glass. Kazi was barefoot, he flinched as flesh was dug into by uneven shards. You could smell the rancid coffee on his breath. He had a mole just on small of his nose.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, “Where’s that girl that stormed out of my apartment because she didn’t get her way?”

“A lot can change in seven years, Kaz.” You glanced around his apartment. “Well, most people change. Some people don’t go anywhere in life.”

Kazi pressed forward, his dry lips suddenly against yours. You froze in an instant, appalled by the acrid taste of cigarettes and stale morning coffee that he had no-doubt heated up in the microwave and drank black. The kiss was strong, rushed and painful in the way that his teeth knocked against yours.

It took less than a second for you to push him away. His head hit the cabinet behind it, rattling the glasses inside. Your hand was splayed out on his chest, nails digging into the stained tank-top he wore. He grinned wolfishly at you. Your teeth had dug so hard into his lip that it drew blood.

“I like this rough version of you, sweetheart. It’s hot.”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster in your close proximity. The radio in the window seemed to flicker out of power at that moment, or maybe they had just run out of shitty pop music to play. Either way, the two of you were engulfed in silence.

“Shit, baby, hit me again!”

He had no idea how much you wanted to abide by that, though, you were quite positive that it would do nothing but spur on his arousal. This wasn’t going to work. If he kept pushing the way he was, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from pulling your own weapon.

It suddenly became too much, standing in the middle of this time-capsule of an apartment. The memories were too strong. When the two of you were together, everything you did was for his benefit. And while this had been fun at first, testing him like this, it was too much.

You grabbed the collar of his sweat-soiled shirt, wrapping it around your fingers with enough force to tear the fabric away. “Two weeks, you fucking asshole. If you don’t have the money by then, I’m sure the city will have a fun time scrubbing your brain matter from the sidewalk.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He sneered.

You pressed your booted foot down on the top of his, listening as the glass dug deeper into the soft skin. This time, he did cry out in pain, the grinding of pieces close to bone making his eyes water. You placed your hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. “I will make your miserable existence a living hell, with or without the money, for what you did to me. Do you understand?”

“You’re so full of shit-“ you pressed your full weight down and you squirmed under your hold. “Yes! Yes, I get it. Fuck!”

You pulled yourself away from Kazi entirely, straightening his shirt. He was slumped against the counter, staring at you with pure rage in his eyes. He shifted his full weight to his other foot, grimacing at the edged stain on the wooden floor.

“You should really clean that up.” You gritted, mouth still tasting of stale smoke. “Glass can be dangerous, Kazimirez.”

By the time you got to the car the only thing on your mind was taking the hottestshower possible. You’d pawed through Kate’s glovebox rather frantically and counted it a small blessing that that there was a single unwrapped piece of gum at the very bottom.

She cringed as you popped it in your mouth and let the minty dusty taste coat your tongue. If you could, without raising suspicion, you would have dumped solvent on it, just to take the taste of Kazi out of your mouth.

“I don’t know how long that’s been in there.” Kate said, watching you warily as you picked up her water bottle and downed half of that too. It seemed to take the rest of the rancid flavor away.

“I don’t care”

“You should care, I bought this car used.” She frowned, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “Okay, I didn’t’ buy it. I bought the license plates though, that’s my civic duty.”

Her words were enough for you to roll your window down and toss the gum from it. Despite your profession, you weren’t a very good liar. Not when it came to Natasha. She’d ask you about your day like usual and you’d crumble under her seemingly innocent gaze.

Nothing Natasha did was innocent.

“What happened up there?” Kate asked.

The two of you were well out of the city by now, and still had about a half-hour until you got to the mansion. The family liked their privacy, and after a year of living there permanently, so did you.

When you didn’t answer right away, she kept going. “Because I got cookies. Nearly choked on one when Miss Henderson insisted on a private show. It’s seriously a wonder that a woman her age can still bend like that.”

“Katie,” You warned, “Gross.”

“Impressive actually. She kept her clothes on, which I am eternally grateful for. It looks like you had a more eventful visit with the French dudes upstairs.” She scoffed, “Who the fuck is French anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and slumped further into your seat. Kazi was French. You used to crumble when he gave you the choppiest lines that he could remember. According to him, the language is harder to speak than it is to read and write. You never questioned him, just like you didn’t question a lot of things.

“I have a… history with the man who rents 807.”

“A history, or a… history?”

“The first one. The second one. Shit- I don’t know, both! He’s Ronnie’s dad.”

Kate slammed on the brakes with enough force for a layer of rubber to be peeled from the tires of her mostly stolen care. The seatbelt cut into your neck and you figured yourself lucky that you’d taken a back road that was rarely used, god forbid she cause an accident.

“Dude!” You shouted as she put the car into park.

Kate twisted her entire body in the seat, placing her hand on the back of your seat. The motor was sputtering wildly, trying to compensate for her abrupt stop. Something had to be damaged, you thought, with her force on the pedal.

“Don’t dude me. Are you really that dense? If you haven’t noticed, Natasha is possessive over her things. And you? Well, you’re one of her favorite things. She’s not going to take this well in the slightest.”

“Kate, I think I know how to handle my girlfriend.”

“No, you know how to handle Natasha, the sweet, loving woman who would die for you and your child. Admirable, really. But you don’t know how to handle Miss Romanoff, mob boss extraordinaire.”

But you had seen Natasha in action before, countless times. She’d always kept this calm coolness about her that you were in awe of. Maybe Kate was right. You’d only seen a fraction of her jealous side at the first party you had ever attended in the house. That night she ripped the dress she’d picked out specifically for you to shreds.  

“I was dating a man named Eli when I was first taken in by the Romanoff’s, He turned out to be… not so favorable despite my constant reassurances. Natasha just knows. She had him dig a grave right off I-25 and then she made him lay in it.”

Your jaw threatened to drop at the simple fact. Kate removed her hand from the back of the seat and eased off the brake before she slowly got the two of you back up to an acceptable speed.

“All Eli did was cheat on me one night in a club. It wasn’t great, but I wasn’t sure if it warranted that kind of reaction. I never knew if she was proving a point to me, or to Eli. Either way, the smallest offense against any of us is met with archaic conviction.”

You didn’t respond to Kate, instead you stared at the trees that were whizzing by in a lush green wall of color. You’d decided that she was right- any type of reaction Natasha was going to have to Kazi would be severe.

“You’ll be fine.” Kate tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel, trying to backtrack her words. “As long as he didn’t’ touch you.”

It didn’t seem to matter how ferociously you scrubbed your skin with the honey scented soap you shared with Natasha, you swore you still smelled like smoke. It clung to your clothes, and lingered in the air after you’d shoved them to the bottom of the clothes basket.

The water was blazingly hot, filling the bathroom with a thick mist that made it slow to breathe. Natasha had chosen a dark blue tile that seemed to transport you into another world. Even without the scaring remembrance of Kazi’s lips against yours, his hands where you didn’t want them, you could stay here for hours.

Her hands were freezing cold and startling as they splayed against your naked stomach. You let out a small noise, going rigid before registering Natasha behind you. Her front was pressed against your back, and you’d know the curve of her body anywhere.

“Izvinite, moya lyubov', I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned in her arms and took in the state of her. She’d stripped down just as you had, small drops of water littering her skin like a constellation in the sky. She’d been in the sun today, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose giving her away.

There was a bruise forming against the side of her jaw, one that you ran your waterlogged fingers over. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, playing off the indigo tiles. You wanted to scold her for getting the bruise in the first place, but you were so entrapped by her simple presence, the way she fit so perfectly against you.

Natasha closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips against yours in a hurried kiss. You moaned into the embrace, allowing her tongue to find purchase in your mouth. God- you had missed her in the short few hours you’d been apart.

“Did you take up smoking?” she asked, barely pulling away, the words were spoken flushed to your lips. “It’s a terrible habit, darling.”

The glovebox gum hadn’t done its job, and apparently the swish of mouthwash and subsequent teeth brushing hadn’t done anything either. Of course, Natasha noticed. Of course. You weren’t going to try to hide it, though the thought did occur to you to save some heartache. But you were hoping you could placate her in a less slippery spot of the house when you were less naked and incredibly turned on by her presence.

A groan of a different cadence than she was used to escaped you as you dropped your head to her shoulder and clenched your eyes shut. “No, I didn’t take up smoking.”

“You taste like you have,” She gently led your eyes to hers. It was tender compared to the first time she had done so. “Licking ash trays again?”

“Gross, no.”

Natasha valued honesty above all. That much had been clear from the moment you met her. She’d nearly taken your head off in the gym when you repeated your one-night-stand with the enemy. The devil incarnate who happened to only be decent in bed. You remembered her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to give her the answers she craved.

“What is it, pet? You can tell me.”

“Do you… I’ve been with men before.”

She let out a small chuckle that reverberated off the deep tile. “Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make assumptions, of course, but Ronnie does have a father.”

The way you stared at her in the silence that followed the statement made the smile on her face falter until it dropped entirely. She must have seen something behind your eyes, something that weighed the situation down more than she was intending on a typical Wednesday night.

“I’d completely blacked it out and didn’t realize it until I stepped foot into the lobby, but he still lives in the same apartment on the top floor. He thought I was after child support, or something but things sort of… escalated.”

You felt like a child, spilling your secrets about a vase you had broken. This time it was a cheap paperweight with a bug in the center that you frankly felt bad for. The words came out like emotional vomit, granted, Natasha had become used to your rapid admissions.

Her grip tightened against your chin, “Escalated how?”

“He kissed me, and I hit him hard enough to break his jaw.”

That same silence enveloped you again. The scalding water had lost its effect, numb and beating against your back. The two of you were still impossibly close and there wasn’t much escape for you in a shower this size. The glass door having fogged up and only giving you a stunted view of the large bathroom.

Natasha had an immeasurable rage behind her stare, her lidded expression ran as dark as old blood. It chilled you to your core. She reached beside you and shut off the constant flow of water. You’d been in here for about an hour now and the cold air that touched your skin felt like an assault of needles. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your center to preserve warmth.

“He laid his hands on you.”

“Yeah, Nat, he did.”

“He touched you.”

“I gave him hell for it, but it didn’t seem like it was enough.”

“Without permission.”

“He’ll never do it again.”

Whatever split-second decision she made; it was done without the usual calculation behind her eyes. She threw the door to the shower open and forcefully shoved a towel into your arms. While you revered in the warmth, you watched as she sauntered in her usual way out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. She was dripping wet.

“Natty!” You stumbled over the partition and nearly slid on the bathroom floor. It was much colder outside of your cocoon of warmth and subsequent mist. She thankfully hadn’t left the room and was pawing through her side of the dresser. You nearly lost your footing once you reached hardwood. “Fuck,”

She seemed to find what she was looking for, a plain black tank top that hugged her sides and looked entirely uncomfortable to wiggle into while damp. You watched with baited breath in a sloping towel as she adorned herself with underwear and pants, before turning towards you.

“Get dressed.” She ordered in a dangerous tone.

Shit. She was going to make you dig your own grave. You’d just showered all of the grime from Kazi’s apartment off and in a matter of minutes you would have dirt up to your knees. Natasha may have let Eli live after his blunder, but maybe she’d cover you completely and let you suffocate in your own efforts.

Numbly, you put on a pair of sweatpants and the closest shirt you had. There was no need to get dressed for your own funeral, you supposed. The worms would chew through whatever you wore regardless.

Clint was stretched out on the chase in the foyer, a pair of thick-lensed glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Regardless, he still squinted at the book in his hands. You wondered why he wasn’t in the living room, but caught a glimpse of a particularly intense game of twister between Ronnie, Yelena, and Kate.

Darcy held onto the board, flicking the small plastic needle and calling out the colors. When Kate clocked the anger in Natasha’s eyes, she dropped to her back, taking down Yelena and Ronnie with her.

She gave you a pleading look, but you were already too far gone to return anything other than a flushed expression. You followed obediently after Natasha. She opened the front door and watched you with a calculated expression before slamming the front door hard enough to shake the glass fronting.

“Get in the car.”

“Do you want me to grab a shovel?”

“What?”

She contemplated this for a minute, growling softly. The near silence was terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest was terrifying. Your mouth with incredibly dry, and you wished that you were back under the constant stream of water.

“No. I don’t think we’ll need that. Get in the car.”

Numbly, you did as you were told, placing your hands in your lap. This was quite possibly the last time you would be sitting in any car, much less, next to Natasha. She reached across you and pulled your seatbelt into place, tugging on the upper portion until she was sure you weren’t going anywhere.

The tires picked up traction on the gravel and the drive that usually took an hour seemed to whiz by. Natasha was quiet, the route to the city more than familiar by now. She run her hands against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. You could hear her breathing deeply, trying to ease her nerves. You didn’t dare say a word.

For a moment, you figured that she’d abandoned the idea of burying you alive and switched her ideals to something much more sinister and public. She pulled her car up to the front of the very building you had left a few hours ago, the sun just barely setting behind the skyline. You blinked at her, and then up at the very property that she owned.

“Come on.”

There was no room for discussion. The air here was clouded with the scent of smoke and the coolness of the cement structures around you. It was moments like these where you much preferred the country.

Of course, Natasha knew the code, she had recited it to you earlier as you and Kate ate lunch by the docks, stretched out on the hood of her car. It was wrong then and your nerves were too elevated to pay attention now. She got in without the theatrics.

There seemed to be more activity as the day for working folks began to wind down. Two people halted their conversation by the mail-slots, nodding solemnly at the woman. On the third floor, you caught a glimpse of a woman struggling to push her keys into the lock, juggling her gym bag. The sixth floor held a small boy who darted from one apartment to another, edging across the hall.

She kept climbing until that same irritating French pop filled your ears. He must keep it on at all hours of the day, just to drown out his own miserable thoughts. “What apartment?”

You lifted your chin slightly, hands shoved in the pockets of your sweatpants to ward off the biting chill. “807.”

“Spasibo, lyubimyy.”

Natasha’s booted foot connected with the center of the very door you had politely knocked on earlier in the day. You flinched, covering your face with a guarded arm. The wood of the doorframe seemed to splinter, slivers reigning across both sides of the entrance.

“What the fuck!”

Kazi was hunched over the kitchen table, the funnel that had been drying by the sink was positioned perfectly in the mouth of a soaked and peeled liquor bottle. He had a stack of his own labels ready to place evenly on the finished product. Both of his feet were haphazardly wrapped with gauze, small sprouts of blood worming through the soft material.

He’d taken care to clean up the glass, but with the way Natasha headed straight towards him, that didn’t matter much. More of it fell to the floor and shattered upon impact. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started walking him backwards across the living room. Kazi seemed too stunned to speak, his words caught in his throat.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it! Please!”

“When you speak to me, you’ll do it clearly.” She gritted, shoving him towards the window. Somewhere in the scuffle, the radio had fallen from its perch on the cracked windowsill, crashing to the alleyway below with one last fizzled cry. “You had no trouble saying whatever you wanted earlier, did you?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! I told that bitch I would have the rent!”

“Yeah? Was that before or after you shoved your tongue down her throat?”

Natasha bent Kazi’s torso fully over the screenless window. He grasped frantically at her hands, clawing at them as the balanced him over the long drop to the pavement below. His bare feet kicked, trying to throw her off her equilibrium, but he was much too weak for any type of damage.

“You walked out on them.”

“What? Oh, my god, what?! I told her to get rid of it- I didn’t walk out on anyone! You’re batshit lady!”

To you, it didn’t’ seem very wise to throw insults at the woman holding you above an eight-story drop, but Kazi never was known for his intelligence. His bravado, maybe, but never anything more. He looked so small compared to Natasha’s anger.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Kazi. She kept the kid that you couldn’t have bothered to give another thought to. She made a life for both of them. She fucking loves that kid enough to fill the absence you left.” Natasha let her hand slip, letting him waver in his height for a moment before pulling him back up. He was crying, sobbing for his life. “And you have the nerve, to touch her, to break her and then come rushing back when she was strong enough to pick up the pieces?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he moaned out “I couldn’t be a dad.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things you can’t do, doesn’t it? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. A pathetic excuse for a human being and once we leave here- I never want to see your face in my city again. Am I clear?”

Kazi let out another course of intelligible, wet, words. His back was nearly breaking under the force of Natasha’s hold, her knee directly up against his crotch, pushing down with all the strength she could muster.

“Y/n, I think this is a teaching moment, don’t you?”

The softness of her words as she addressed you caught you off guard. There was no malice. In fact, she beckoned to you as if she was calling you into the living room to join her under the blankets for a movie. Your heart raced fast enough for your chest to ache as you closed the distance between you both.

“See, the trick is making them think that you’re going to let them go.”

She said this to you as if Kazi wasn’t a slobbering mess under her touch. He’d carved little half-moon marks against the tops of her hand, some of them starting to leak blood with the sheer force of his struggle.

“You have to get creative with the fear aspect. If they think they’re going to die, it tends to work in our favor. Doesn’t it, Kazi?”

“Please,” He whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry.”

Natasha did the seemingly impossible, she pushed him further out the window, his calves struggling for purchase against the drywall. “Oh, now that simply won’t do. You must keep her name out of your mouth.”

“In situations like these, darling, it’s best to keep full control. If he was anything other than wretched, then maybe you’d have to worry about him fighting back. You’ll get some people like that, but that trick is having leverage, literal and physical in cases like this.”

“I see,” You let the words escape you in a single breath “and how long do we play this game?”

“Until they know it’s not one.”

It took little effort for Natasha to push Kazi the rest of the way out the window. In spite of his clinging grip, the force of gravity was enough to do the work for her. His cry stunted in his throat and it only took a few seconds for a dull thud to echo through the alleyway, followed by the unmistakable sound of a car alarm going off.

With a small gasp, you leaned over the window yourself, staring down at the white Toyota that now had a sizeable dent in the top, the windshield spiderwebbing. Kazi let out a groan that you could hear from up here, blinking up at the sky with malice and shock in his eyes.

“Nat,” You breathed.

“Please, eight stories is survivable. Some people need to be taught a lesson.” She shrugged, pulling you back into the apartment by the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ll pay for the car repairs, if that makes you feel better, detka.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I did.” She reached forward and cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. It was impossible to ignore the gesture, the words that she had said with so much blind passion. Tears threatened to overtake your waterline. “moya lyubov', he put his hands on you without permission and before that… before that he hurt you in ways unimaginable. I meant every word I said.”

You could hear sirens in the distance, a hazard of living in the city. They could be for Kazi, you supposed, something to take care of the surely broken ribs and the bruised ego. But, they could be for something more important.

You pushed forward and kissed Natasha delicately. You wanted to be impossibly close to her. Most gestures you had received in the past had come in the form of flowers, maybe the occasional box of chocolate from the drug store. Once again- Natasha had proved something to you.

Her chuckle vibrated into the kiss, “Mm, we should probably leave.”

You couldn’t agree more. You wanted to get out of this stupid apartment that was teeming with memories of your time with Kazi. The way he claimed his love for you, and forced you to make a horrible decision all in one exhale.

As the two of you walked down the long and winding steps, Natasha asked, “What was with the shovel thing?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling foolish for fearing Natasha in the first place. Her silence caused waves, and somehow, that was worse than if she’d threatened you outright, something that she never did with much heat.

“Kate, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Eli, I think she said his name was.”

“Ah, Eli.” She frowned, “He cheated on her, and I only made him dig for an hour.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, as long as you never make me dig my own grave.”

 “I would never do that. There is no punishment in things you can’t control.” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze, her solemn words punctuated with a slowly creeping smile. “Besides, detka, that’s simply not my style. It was much too messy.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

[hoejosatoru]

Off Limits

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani

Summary: Your older brother, Mikey, forbids any of his subordinates from putting their hands on you. Naturally, Ran takes that as a challenge.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, drugging mentioned (reader not drugged), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, raw sex, cream pie, Mikey is an over protective brother, guns, pet names like angel, sugar, pretty girl, etc I think that's it? kind of an abrupt ending bc I'm silly like that

It was a boring day for Ran Haitani. Well, if you consider hunting rival gang members down and beating information out of them dull like Ran does. As much as he loves his job, the thrill of seeing another man's fear, feeling his fist connect with deadly precision, sometimes it was a bit monotonous. All work and no play makes Ran Haitani a dull boy and such.

He thought he'd fix this with a trip to Bonten's strip - no gentlemen's club. He could hear Koko yelling at him in his head for, 'lessening the value of their asset' by not using some euphemism. Ran didn't think it mattered much. Men just wanted to see women take their clothes off; they didn't care what it was called.

Usually going to the gentlemen's club made him feel better, but even this was feeling dull to him today. He's already fucked all the girls he had an interest in. Some of them multiple times. And they were great, sure, but he nothing that could spark his interest now. He needed fresh blood, so to speak.

Then you walked in. Ran had been idly drumming his fingers along the dark mahogany of the bar top, half listening to Rindou and Sanzu drone on about the days' events. His fingers halted the moment he saw you, straightening up and zeroing in. He'd never seen you before, he would have remember that face... that body. Were you a new hire? He wondered... No it couldn't be. The execs ran background checks on all the women in the club, which fell to Ran or his brother to do. No way you slipped through the cracks.

A prickle of anger flared through him as he wondered if you were dating one of the execs. He couldn't image one of the guys dating a woman like you and not bragging about it though. Maybe a patron's girl? You seemed to be looking for someone. Ran smiled. He could be a helpful guy, take you to your boyfriend... and then put a hit out on him. He didn't play fair, but he always played for keeps.

"Shit, who's that?" Rindou piped up behind him. Ran stifled a wave of possessiveness rushing through him. If he made it too obvious how bad he wanted you, this would become a contest he didn't want. At least Rindou's response to you confirmed that he didn't know you, so you couldn't be a dancer.

"Dunno," Ran shrugged, "But looks like she could use some help."

Sanzu rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care about helping random women."

Ran knocked back the rest of the whisky in his glass. "What can I say, I am a feminist." Sanzu and Rindou groaned at him, but his back was already to them making a beeline towards you. The closer he got, the more he was taken by you. You were so beautiful, but you also looked more nervous that he originally appraised. Maybe you were truly just lost. Wrong place, right time - for Ran at least.

"Hi," Ran said, mustering all the calmness in his voice he could manage. You looked him up and down, your pulse quickening - and not because you were nervous. The man standing before you was one of the finest you'd ever laid eyes on. But you couldn't let that distract you from your purpose here. "Haven't seen you around here before, are you lost?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm... looking for someone." You were vague, not sure of who this man was and not willing to trust anyone but who you were looking for.

"Oh? Well I'm one of the owners here," Ran replied casually, though he was dying to know who you were here for. "Maybe I could help you out?" His words sparked recognition in you, he could see it in how your eyes widened.

He's an owner? That mean he must know... "My brother, I'm looking for my brother." You felt the tiniest rush of relief that you bumped into someone who could truly help you.

Brother. Ran couldn't help but smile. This was the best case scenario; there was not issue of competition there. "And who's that, sweetheart?"

"Mikey."

"Mikey?" But it wasn't his own voice that verbalized his surprised. He whipped around, irritated to find Sanzu and Rindou followed him. Sanzu was shocked by the mention of the boss's name. Ran couldn't deny he was surprised too; he had no idea Mikey had a sister.

"Since when did Mikey have a sister?" Rindou questioned.

Sanzu scowled. "I knew it," he snapped, "But I didn't know it was her." Of course Sanzu, Mikey's little dog, would be privy to that information. But even he had never laid eye on you before, he simply was just aware a sister existed. "You're not supposed to be here," his comment pointed right at you.

"I know, I know," you replied quickly. Mikey was very clear to you that you were supposed to stay far away from his... line of business. "But it's an emergency. These guys came to my job and I- they were looking for me." You shivered at the memory of your close call.

Sanzu's eyes widened. Ran could practically hear the gears turning in his head: how was he going to use this as an opportunity to further win Mikey's favor? Ran rolled his eyes, as if Sanzu needed to do any more ass kissing.

"Did anyone follow you here?" Sanzu demanded.

"No - I don't think so," you replied. "Please can't I just talk to Mikey?"

"C'mon Sanzu, you're scaring the poor girl," Ran interjected. If Sanzu could use the situation to his benefit, so could he. "Even if someone did follow her, we'll handle it. Let's just get her to Mikey." He gave you an assuring smile that caused a blush to rise in your cheeks. Ran didn't miss it, of course, savoring the soft little smile you returned to him.

Sanzu didn't argue, telling you to follow him instead. He led the way, weaving through the tables where patrons sat. Ran and Rindou took up the rear behind you, following to Mikey's private room at the club. Ran gave a particularly nasty look to one man who stared at you a beat too long.

"Did you know Mikey had a sister?" Rindou whispered to Ran.

"No."

"Interesting."

Ran smiled, this was exactly the type of fun he needed. "Very."

Sanzu opened the door to Mikey's office. He was sitting alone at his desk, a whiskey in his hands as he looked through a pile of papers. His eye flicked up, annoyed at the intrusion until he saw you. He jumped out of his seat. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he was half between anger and concern.

You rushed past Sanzu to your brother. Ran leaned against the closed door, eager to see how this played out. "I'm so sorry Mikey I- I know I'm not supposed to be here," the words tumbled out of you. "But there were men looking for me. I got scared."

Mikey's eyes darkened. "Tell me exactly what happened."

You sat down, realizing how badly you were shaking. You'd come here on pure adrenaline and now it was wearing off. You explained to Mikey how you had been in the back of the bakery where you work, when you heard a gruff voice asking for you. Well, it was really more like demanding. At first you had been afraid you fucked up someones order, but when you caught a peak at the 2 men looking for you you knew instantly they were not looking costumers.

Thankfully, they hadn't seen you and your coworker had the good sense to insist you were not working today. It took some convincing, but they finally left. You lied to your coworker and said you had a crazy ex. But really, you knew the symbol on their jackets was one your brother warned you of. A rival gang. And somehow, despite Mikey's best efforts to keep you far away from his lifestyle, they found you.

"You swear you weren't hurt?" Mikey questioned, softening now that he understood why you were here.

"I'm okay I promise, just a little shaken up," you replied, "I don't know what I'm gonna do about work."

"You're going to quit," Mikey state, shooting you a look when you balked. "I should have known something like this would happen. You got really fucking lucky today, y/n. If they had gotten to you... I don't even want to think about it. You have to stay close to me. Under my protection, there is no other way."

"But my coworkers could be in danger," you replied, sad at the thought of never getting talk shit about rude costumers while kneading dough again.

"I'll have my guys watch the shop for a few weeks to make sure it's safe. And tell me the name of the girl who had your back. I'll make sure she gets compensated," Mikey replied. Before you could protest, Mikey returned his attention to the men behind you. "Sanzu, get everyone to the meeting room. We need to discuss this immediately."

Sanzu slipped out obediently. Mikey eyed the two remaining men suspiciously, particularly the taller one. "And who do I have to thank for finding her?"

The taller one, Ran you believed his name was, smiled. "That would be me boss."

Mikey's jaw tightened. "Of course." He didn't express gratitude as you expected, but Mikey was not the most warm and fuzzy person. "You two can go wait in the meeting room. I'll be there shortly." They both nodded and slipped out wordlessly. You noticed, though, Ran eyes scan you one last time, which made your heart stutter in your chest.

Mikey instructed you to stay in his office while he went into the next room to have a meeting with his executives. "Don't worry, the club is guarded by my men, you're safe here. I'm gonna make sure everything works out, okay y/n?"

You nodded. You trusted your brother completely. Mikey squeezed your arm in attempt to be comforting before exiting the room. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the headache that was dealing with subordinates.

Despite the short amount of time lapsed, all his executives were there waiting. At least they knew their place, he thought. Dogs who come when called. The room was much more cramped than their board room back at HQ, but it worked for when they needed it. Mikey took his spot at the head of the table.

"Most of you don't know this, but I have a sister," Mikey began, his eye shifting around the room. All the men, besides those you had already met, looked surprised and confused. Sanzu was the only person who knew of your existence prior to this. Being he was Bonten's number 2, he had to ensure someone would look after you should anything happen to him.

"I've kept her secret from everyone because I didn't want her to be in danger. But somehow our rivals have found out about her," Mikey stopped, swallowing his anger as the weight of the situation hit him. "We are going to find the men looking for her and we are going to fucking kill them. All of them. Destroy their gang one member at a time if we have to."

The men nodded along, Sanzu particularly eagerly. He always excited at the thought of bloodshed.

"You're all to guard her with your life," Mikey continued, "I'll be working on a schedule for everyone to take turns keeping an eye on her while the rest of us continue work as usual."

"What if you bring her to work?" Koko asked. Mikey's brow furrowed, but he continued. "Our headquarters is secret and there always a bunch of us around. That's gotta be safer than just one of us at an apartment. And then you don't have to worry about shifts."

Leave it to Koko to find a way to be more efficient. Mikey debated it. On one hand he had a good point; it was probably safer to have you surrounded by more people. And then Mikey would alway be around at work and when you went home. Because he was definitely making you move in with him, at least until he was sure there weren't any active threats against you. But at HQ you'd in the middle of his business and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Plus there were other concerns he had...

"I think that's a good idea," Ran piped up.

"I agree," Takeomi said, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Of course they like the idea. Mikey wasn't an idiot, he knew you were a pretty girl. He's seen the way men look at you and being a man himself, he knows what those looks mean. It makes him sick to his stomach. It's not that he is some control freak that would say you're not allowed to date anyone, but he has high standards when it comes to who should be allowed to date you. And this lot of men don't even come close. They were great employees, cunning and devious, but he wouldn't want their hands on you. Having you around would be like throwing blood in shark infested waters.

Still, he couldn't deny it HQ would be the safest place for you to be. Mikey sighed. "Alright, you're right Koko," he replied, acknowledging only his white haired subordinate. Had it been anyone else who suggested it he may have said no, but Mikey trusted Koko not to have ulterior motives. He wasn't so obsessed with getting women in his bed like the others. "But there will be rules. Her safety is the number one priority. I'll expect you all to take a bullet for her if needed."

No one objected. Signing on to Bonten meant being willing to take a bullet for Mikey. What was one more person?

"And no one fucking touches her," Mikey stated, looking every single one of them in the eyes so they'd recognize the weight of his words. "If you do, I'll put a bullet in you."

Ran's lips twitched ever so slightly. He couldn't say he was surprised, but he was still amused. He was a man who loved a challenged and Mikey just made this all the more fun for him.

***

Moving in and working with Mikey was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mikey's "apartment" was more like a penthouse and did not make you miss your shabby little apartment at all. You had been worried about privacy, but you had your own room and bathroom down the hall and he gave you space when you needed it. You were actually liking the arrangement, getting to spend more time with your brother than you had in a while.

Even going to work with him wasn't so bad. At first he expected you to just sit around all day, but you insisted on doing something while you were there. He was very wary of it, not wanting you to get too involved in his way of life, but eventually allowed you to do some small stuff. You cleaned up a bit, made coffees, helped organize some old files. Simple stuff.

Then you discovered the HQ had a kitchen. It was little, but Mikey was more than happy to buy all the gadgets you needed to make it functional. Since then you spent your days baking, the thing you missed most. It worked out perfectly, it kept you busy with work Mikey deemed safe and the guys got fed delicious pastries. Everyone was happy.

In fact, you were surprised by how much you were enjoying this. There was still an element of fear knowing that the bad guys knew who you were and sure you got frustrated you couldn't go out with friends, but you did like going to work Mikey.

There was another reason you enjoyed going to Bonten HQ with Mikey so much. Ran Haitani. The attraction you felt towards him the first time you saw him has only grown. He charmed you with ease, like he wasn't even trying. Ran, of course, was trying. Specifically he was trying to make his flirtatiousness seem as casual as possible, as to not upset Mikey. He loved testing the limits, seeing what he could get away with.

"What're you making, sugar?" Ran asked as he entered the kitchen. He'd started calling you that nickname after you started supplying the execs with endless sweets. From anyone else you would think it was corny, but from Ran and it made your heart skip.

"Peanut butter brownies," you replied, taking in his appearance. He was always dressed well, but today he looked particularly good in an immaculate lavender pinstripe three piece suit. You reckoned no other man could pull it off.

He looked you up and down, a sly smile on his face. "Can't wait to get a taste." Your cheeks colored. You knew he was talking about the brownies, but the way he looked at you...

"You sure do have a sweet tooth, Ran."

"Well you're certainly hard to resist. Your baking, that is," he said with an innocent smile.

"Is there something specific you'd like to try?" you asked, returning his faux innocent banter.

Ran grinned, "I could think of something." It was then you realized the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Ran towered over you, his rich, warm scent filling your lungs.

Before you could speak, your brother's voice shattered the tension between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"

Ran turned, a calm smile on his face. "Nothing, boss. Y/n here was just telling me about the brownies she made. Was hoping she'd let me try 'em." He spoke so casually, nothing like the low simmer in his voice that had been pulling you in just seconds ago.

"Yeah, I bet," Mikey replied flatly. "A word alone, Ran." Mikey left without another word.

"Save a corner piece for me, they're my favorite," Ran smiled at you before slipping out of the room.

"I thought I made myself clear," Mikey stated when they were alone.

"I don't know what you're talking about, boss," Ran replied, that stupid smile still on his face. Mikey wanted to punch it off him.

"Do you think I'm stupid Haitani?" Mikey asked, his jaw tightening.

"Not at all, boss."

"Then you know that I know what you're up to," his eyes narrowed.

"I just wanted to try some bro-" Mikey cut him off by pounding the wall next to his head. Ran didn't even flinch.

"If you touch my sister you're a dead man," Mikey snapped.

Ran smiled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."

But dream he did. Hell he straight up fantasized about it. What you'd look like bent over those counters you constantly worked at, looking up at him with those pretty eyes while on your knees, how sweet you'd taste... He thought about it all. But more importantly, he planned.

Later that evening Mikey addressed the incident in the kitchen with you. "I don't like you talking to Ran."

"What? What's wrong with him?"

Mikey almost laughed. What wasn't wrong with him. "He's just..." he searched for the right word, not wanting to scare you. "An idiot."

You laughed. "All men are idiots." Mikey gave you a look, but couldn't help but smile.

"I'll ignore that comment," Mikey replied, "But he's just involved in bad shit. I don't want you getting close to people in my line of work, even the one's I trust. Plus, he only wants one thing."

You rolled your eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm about to get the birds and bees talk."

"I'm serious."

"Oh, I know you are," you half sighed, half laughed. "Like I said, all men are idiots. I know what men want, I've dealt with plenty of guys like that. I'm sure I can handle myself. Plus, he doesn't seem that bad."

"Well he is. So stay away from him," Mikey said with finality.

"What're you gonna do, kill him?" you asked, half joking.

"If I have to," Mikey replied so casually you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. You knew he would never hurt you, but you weren't blind to what your brother was capable of.

"You're way over thinking this," you replied, realizing that it would not be worth it to argue over this. "I don't see Ran like that. He's just another weirdo you work with. I'm not interested in him."

That seemed to appease Mikey. You were a better liar than you thought.

Since the day Mikey found you in the kitchen with Ran, the two of you were never alone together. Neither of you address what was going on between the two of you, but you knew he felt it. You could tell by the way he looked at you. You were certain it was not a one-sided crush. However, you were smart enough to know it could not be openly pursued.

Then, one day Ran appeared to you in the kitchen. Alone. "Mikey's out on errands."

For a half second you wondered why he was telling you this, but then it hit you. "Oh." Mikey was gone. That meant...

There was nothing more to be said. You were on each other in an instant, as if taken over by autopilot. Ran's hands felt so good on your body, already wrapping around your waist. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, desperate for more.

Ran wasn't patient in the best of times, but today? He couldn't wait another second to have you. He lifted you up on the counter with ease, pulling a half giggle half gasp from your lips. He moved skillfully, stripping your lower half without ever breaking away from the kiss until he dropped to his knees in front of you.

"Been dreaming about tasting you," he hummed against your thighs. He licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. "So sweet. Knew you would be."

Ran buried his face between your legs. He knew he didn't have a ton of time and wasn't going to waste a second of it. His plush lips attached to your clit, making you gasp. You knotted your fingers through his lilac hair, needing something to steady yourself. His teased you, pressing against your aching entrance.

"Fuck Ran," you gasped, hooking your thighs over his shoulders and locking him against. Ran loved it, the feeling of your plush thighs pressed against him, how desperate you sounded. He needed to see you completely fall apart.

Ran slipped a finger into your throbbing hole and returned to sucking at your clit. You gripped his hair so tightly it made his scalp ache, but that only egged him on more. The feeling of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue lapping at your clit was too much for you. Your body shuddered as came, moaning his name. Ran savored every second, not pulling away until he was sure you were completely finished.

He stood up, about to kiss you again when his phone went off. He checked it, cursing when he saw Rindou's message. "Mikey's on his way back," He practically groaned. Ran almost laughed at how you pouted.

"I want you so bad."

"I know sugar, believe me," his eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, making your eyes widen. "But if you're brother kills me before I get to fuck you then we're both shit outta luck." He gave a quick kiss. "Promise I won't make you wait too long." And with that he was gone.

***

It had only been two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. You thought there had been a lot of tension before you hooked up, but now it was down right unbearable. You both seemed to be avoiding each other, not because you didn't want to see each other, but because you couldn't trust yourselves not to pounce on each other. The few times you were in the same room together were a true test of endurance.

The way Ran looked at you drove you wild. His eyes would scan your body in a way that would seem casual to anyone else, but you could feel him undressing you, thinking of all the ways he would ravish you. It made your heart race and your knees buckle. Ran had one hell of a poker face, but the glint in his eyes told you that he too was dying to get his hands on you.

By the time a month passed, you were wondering if Ran was ever going to make a move. Then, on a Thursday night just as you were about to head to bed you got a text.

Ran: Come get the door. Quietly

Your heart raced, wondering if you were reading it right. The door? As in the front door where you lived with Mikey? He wouldn't dare come here, not with Mikey at home. But you had to check. Your crept out of your room, pausing to listen for any signs of Mikey being awake. His room was on the opposite side of the house from yours, but you didn't dare get to close and risk waking him.

When you finally opened the door, you were shocked to see Ran standing there with a calm smile on his face, despite his text.

"What're you-"

Ran held a finger up to his lip, silencing you. "Let's talk somewhere private, yeah?" The way his eyes flicked over you, smirking at the tiny shirts and tight little tank top you wore told you he wasn't looking to just talk. This was a bad idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

The next thing you knew, Ran was in your room. It was weird to see him there, in your private space. It made your stomach churn with anticipation.

"What're you doing here?" you tried again.

Ran sat on your bed, making himself comfortable. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer."

"But here? With Mikey at home?" you questioned.

"Mikey and Sanzu hang out and drink every Thursday night," Ran replied, "They always come in Friday with hangovers. I was feeling generous and bought them a few bottles of their favorite whisky for this evening. I imagine they'll both be sleeping well with how much they drank tonight." Your eyes widened as you processed his words. Ran didn't tell you that he slipped some sleeping pills in their drinks. You didn't need to know that; all you needed to know was that Mikey was very unlikely to disturb you two tonight."

"Are you saying-"

"I'm saying, if you can be quiet for me sugar, we can have some fun tonight," Ran smiled wickedly. "Whaddya say? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?"

"Yes." The words were barely past your lips when Ran pulled you on to his lap. Your straddled him, your bodies easily fitting together. You replayed Ran's kiss countless times since hooking up, but feeling it again blew your imagination away. His lips and tongue moved expertly, intoxicating you. Any concerns of getting caught fell to the wayside as your hips rolled against him, feeling hims harden under you.

In a flash, Ran had you flipped over, your hands pinned above your head. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. "God the things I would do to you if we had time." He kissed at your neck, nipping it lightly. He was careful to not leave a mark, but couldn't resist the way it made you gasp. "Promise one day I'll be able to do everything I want to you. But for now I just gotta be inside you."

You nodded eagerly, wanting to feel him in you so badly it ached. Ran practically tore your clothes off as you pawed at his. His fingers slipped between your legs, grinning smugly as he felt how slick you were. He toyed with your clit before sliding two fingers inside your tight pussy. He watched as your wriggled and gasped at him pressing your g spot.

He drank in this sight, relished the rush of having you splayed out and needy for him in Mikey's own home. Fucking you like this was the ultimate fuck you to Mikey. He could practically get off on the power trip of it alone.

Ran continued to finger you as he sucked on your tits. Your fingers tangled in his hair, scraping his scalp. He hummed in pleasure as he took your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud as he played with your clit. The sensation grew too intense, pushing you over the edge.

You let out a moan and Ran's free hand clamped over your mouth. He secretly loved that you couldn't keep yourself quiet, but couldn't risk getting caught before he got to fuck you.

"Thought you were gonna be quiet for me?" Ran teased as you came down from your high.

"Fuck I'm sorry Ran, just felt so good," you replied breathlessly. He couldn't even pretend to be mad.

"That okay pretty girl," he replied, "But I'm gonna fuck you even better than that, so you better keep that pretty little mouth shut." You nodded eagerly, anything to get Ran inside you.

Ran stroked his long, hard cock as he spread your thighs apart more. He admiring how slick your pussy looked, his cock aching to feel you wrapped around him. He lined himself up to you, pushing in. His held fell back as his bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan.

"Fuck, angel, prepped you and you're still so fucking tight." He kept his voice low. He rolled his hips, feeling your pussy suck him. "Feels so fucking good."

You didn't trust yourself with a reply. The way Ran thrust into you made your entire body flutter with pleasure. You felt him so deep it left you breathless, his cock hitting spots in you you didn't know existed. You grabbed the back of his neck, burying your face into it. You sucked and nipped at his neck, trying to prevent yourself from crying out. The more Ran fucked you, the hotter it was to keep quiet. Your teeth sunk into the junction of his neck and shoulder and Ran relished in the sting of your bite.

"Fuck Ran," you whined against his skin as pleasure consumed your senses. Your pussy throbbed around him as you came, making his thrusts falter.

"Shit baby so good," Ran panted. His cocked twitch as he finally released, filling you with his cum. He slid out, a smug grin on his face as he watched his cum leak out of you and make a mess of your bed. He was debating if he should risk a picture when he heard the familiar metallic click of a gun cocking.

"Mikey what the fuck!" you gasped, covering yourself in your sheets, though he wasn't even looking at you. His dark, cold stare was solely on Ran as he point his gun at the lilac haired man's head.

"You're fucking dead Haitani."

[dazed-and-confused23]

Can I please request a fic where Dusty the Deathclaw has a close call? Like maybe the Enclave or the Brotherhood of Steel, or raiders, got in a lucky shot on Dusty’s belly. And this DEVASTATES the reader enough to go full John Wick on the person who shot Dusty, even to the point that Cooper is like “Oh Damn”. Cause they hurt the WRONG wasteland baby!

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 17

I had a lot of fun with this one and it gave me an excuse to head down to the Capitol Wasteland. Ignore the janky timelines ❤️

*so sorry that this took a while to get out. Life does a good job of getting in the way sometimes @odditycircus-2002. I hope you enjoy! ❤️*

Masterlist

You aren't a fan of the Capitol Wasteland. The weather is shit, and she and Cooper had been shot at no less than eight times in the two weeks they'd arrived. This pocket of the wasteland felt even more dangerous to be in, especially with the rumor of a slaver group in the area. You and Cooper had agreed to avoid them as best you could, but that still left the rest of the factions the two of you needed to keep an eye out for.

The BOS left the three of you alone for the most part whenever they happened to cross your path, Dusty had even made a friend with the dark skinned lady named Cross. Raiders were raiders, but the problems really started when she and Cooper stumbled across another group. The Enclave.

Even after the destruction of Raven Rock, pockets of the old world faction still remained. The day was coming to an end when laser fire suddenly accosted the trio of wanderers. They dove for the cover of nearby rocks and grab for their own weapons. Dusty roars loud enough that your ears ring and charge ahead, furious milky eyes zeroed in on the men in suits of power armor.

"Fuck. That's the Enclave," Cooper snarls beside you, and you whip around to stare up at him in horror. Out of all the factions that they could have run into, it had to be one of the most dangerous ones. They were righteous zealots who dreamed of wiping the earth clean of all mutated creatures.

This was the one faction that would have the kind of firepower to actually hurt their deadly companion, and you felt fear grip your heart when rapid laser fire fell upon Dusty. The creature snarled and gnashed his teeth, dropping down to his front arms to sprint forward and close the distance between himself and the Elclave member who had the gatling laser.

"Dusty!" You scream and run forward, ducking behind rocks and burnt out cars in your bid to get to the deathclaw. Cooper rubs right behind you, taking pot shots at the line of figures that stand on top of the cliffs above them. One woman screams as a bullet catches her in the leg, and she goes tumbling off the cliff to hit the ground, dead.

The deathclaw rips through the men and woman who don't have powe armor, blood and gore flying in all directions, and painting his golden scales red. You arrive in time to see a man in power armor rip something off his back and onto his shoulder. The weapon glows a terrible blue, and you watch in slow motion as a bolt of electrified plasma flew through the air and struck Dusty in the chest.

The deathclaw goes down with a howl of anguish, rearing back to expose the blackened flesh of his soft underbelly. His scales crack and melt off, and Dusty falls to the side, the ground shaking when his weight meets the earth.

Cooper hears you scream, and the sound rattles him. It's full of pain and fury, rage, and disbelief. He watches you drop your weapon and dash forward, throwing yourself at the man who shot Dusty. You cling to the man, feet finding foothold as your fingers dig into the neck paneling of the suit and rip at the tubing and wires that connect to the helmet.

Steam erupts from the power armor, and the man jerks around, stumbling as half of his suit loses power. You find the latch to the helmet and rip it off, exposing the face of the terrified man who dared try and kill Dusty.

The ghoul shouts your name when the two of you tip over, the power armor useless now that its systems have been compromised. You appear seconds later, wielding your side arm. You shoot the man in the face until the chamber runs dry, shoulders heaving and teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.

With the fight over, with any other remaining Enclave having fled the scene, you turn on your heel and run to Dusty. You drop to your knees beside the whining creature and reach for his massive head, hands gently smoothing over his dangerous horns as you whisper reassurances to your baby.

"Is okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. Can you let momma see?" You coo, and Dusty lifts his head, moving just enough that you can see the awful wound left behind from the tesla cannon. Dusty whuffs and grunts, obvious sounds of pain falling from his maw.

"Cooper, bring me my bag," you order, and the ghoul does so without a word. You dig around until you can find your stash of chems and drag out the med-x and stim-packs you have. You have no idea if these would work, but you had to try.

"I need to see it, Dusty," you murmur, and Dusty shoves his head forward and into your lap, looking for comfort, and you easily give it to him. You hold his head close to your chest, and the beast breaths in your scents deeply, his milky eyes closing as he begins to calm down.

You look at Cooper, and the ghoul sighs, but he takes the medical supplies from you. He goes about moving around the deathclaw until he can see the burn. The med-x goes first, and then he injects four stim-packs around the wound.

The chems seem to work, for it isn't long before the deathclaw relaxes, his body sagging forward, and you grunt as you take his weight. His breathing evened out, and Cooper watched in muted fascination as the wound began to knit back together. He sighs and plops down in the dirt beside you.

You lean into him, and Cooper wraps his arm around your waist as best he can, kissing the side of your head. Silent tears stream down your face as relief sweeps through your body.

"He'll be alright, smoothskin. Dusty's tougher than he looks."

[laststandx3]

Okay, okay, just finished the last season of tua and I understand lots of the critics I've read so far, mostly were about five and lila and valid and all, but my problem is that this feels so much like the last season of game of thrones, nobody in the writing room wanted to spend more effort than what they had too. This season of tua was terribly uninspired, they wanted to be done with this project as fast as possible and they wrote the flattest most direct way to get at the end of the story.

Find a girl. Touching the girl causes the apocalypse. The only way to stop the apocalypse is to die. End

The fact that finding the girl is a little complex at the beginning is the only redeemable part of the season. The rest of the story doesn't know what to do with the characters and keeps on separating them and giving them side quests. It's like the writer(s) didn't know what to do with them, in fact we got zero character arcs this season, barely diego overcoming his everyday life disappointment.

this is also the reason they're all so out of character, the story needs them to give up so they give up and die. This is why Five (whose only character motivation in 3 season, and 50 in-story years, was to prevent the apocalypse and save his family) this season gives up on preventing the apocalypse and taking care of his family. It's what the plot needs of him. He doesn't even crack the mystery of the underground by himself, he doesn't reason at all. Another version of himself gives him the answers he needs. Five has met his past self before and didn't trust himself, there's no reason why he should trust this other version of him. Except the plot needs him to be stupid. And the writers didn't know how to explain the trains how they worked and why so they just didn't let five figure it out. We don't even get to see other time lines because the writers were lazy. There's no lila meeting different versions of diego and falling in love with him again. They don't meet anyone else even if they could access other people and places. There's no five meeting some woman named Dolores (if they really wanted him to have a love interest). There's nothing in the subway except a time skip montage.

Then when the apocalypse comes everyone accepts death as a solution immediately, a couple of tears and lets end this thing all together. Nobody in the family complains, there's no brainstorming trying to understand what to do or if there are other options. They don't EVEN TRY. They barely ask where Five found those informations. Because the writers want this show to end, so nobody has to oppose the plot. No matter if klaus met god a couple of seasons ago. Or if there are multiple ways to time travel. There's no need to find out anything about reginald or abigail or their world or what kind of aliens they are. There's no need for that.

I don't know if it was a budget problem they couldn't film on many locations or sets or if it was all writers choices. What i can say is only that they took the easiest way out of a story that could have ended in SO so many different ways, and yet the writers chose the most definitive one.

[leiawritesstories]

Best Dream Ever

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 3: Idiots in Love @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol, ridiculous amounts of fluff

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell is someone knocking on my door at eight p.m.? Aelin grumbled to herself as she reluctantly walked to her front door, wine glass in hand. It had been a heck of a work week, and she was a grown woman who was entitled to her post-work drink. She rose up onto her tiptoes to look through the glass panes near the top of the door and did a double take when she found her neighbor from down the street standing on her porch, looking for all the world like he was about to bolt. 

“Rowan?” She opened the door. “You alright?” 

He ducked into her house, pushed the door closed, and looked frantically out the window, chest heaving like he was afraid for his life. “I am now, I think.” 

She raised a brow. “Look, I know we’re neighbors and friends and all that, but seriously. What the hell?” 

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Ae, I really am. I texted you like fifteen times.” 

“Ah, shit.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and waved it in front of him. “Dead, I’m sorry. Ran out of battery on the way home from work and honestly haven’t wanted to charge it.” 

“Fair enough.” He walked beside her down the hallway to her living room and flopped down on the couch he liked, groaning in relief when his head hit the throw pillows. 

“Long week for you too?” 

He grumbled something incomprehensible and moved the pillow off of his face. “Have you ever had six adult men show up at your door armed with gods-only-know how much booze and zero warning and proceed to set up shop in your house?” 

“Can’t say I have,” she drawled. 

“Wouldn’t recommend.” He raked his hands through his messy, pale hair. “I made the mistake of telling the guys that I got that deal with the MLB team, and they apparently decided that this was their sign to come into town and crash my weekend. Seems like I ‘don’t celebrate right,’ whatever the fuck that means.” 

Aelin hid her smile behind her wine. “Which one of the twins said that?” 

“Fen, of fucking course,” Rowan said dryly. “Who else d’you think could convince all the guys to drop everything and converge on my house for a weekend? We’re not in college anymore, not like he understands that.” 

“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Aelin offered. “For now, though, you know you always have a place here. Just…you don’t need to crash for the night, do you?” 

Pink tinged Rowan’s cheeks, and he slipped his backpack off of his shoulders. “Well, now that you mention it…” 

She laughed and stood up. “You know where the spare room is, Ro. Want a beer or something?” 

“Sounds fuckin’ amazing.” He went down the hall to drop off his bag in her spare room and returned a few minutes later in sweatpants and an old university t-shirt. Gratefully, he took the beer bottle from her hand and tipped half its contents down his throat. “Fuck, that’s good.” 

“It’s from the case of ‘good stuff’ you dumped in my garage three weeks ago,” Aelin said, pairing her words with a poke to his side. “Quit using me as your beer overflow, Whitethorn.” 

“Who else could I trust not to drink it?” he grinned, slinging one arm around her shoulders. “If I let one of the guys keep it at their place, it’d be gone in a day, never mind that it’s a small batch craft brew that needs at least thirty-two hours of chilling before you can really get the tasting notes.” 

“Snob,” she teased, turquoise eyes sparkling with laughter. 

He smirked. “It’s called good taste, Ae, and you—” 

A fist thudded rapidly against Aelin’s front door. 

She looked at Rowan, and he looked back at her, eyes wide. “Please don’t let them in,” he whispered, and he took off down the hall to hide in the spare room. 

“Men,” she sighed. She strolled down the hallway, peered out the window, and cracked open her door just a few inches. “What the hell do you want, Moon Moon?” 

Grinning broadly and probably tipsily, Fenrys tried to lean on her doorframe and stumbled sideways before regaining his balance. “Where’s Rowie?” 

Aelin fixed the blonde man with a flat, unimpressed look. “Ask me in normal-people words, Fenny boy.” 

Fenrys inhaled dramatically. “My dear darling Aelin, have you seen Rowan lately? We came to his place to celebrate him getting the MLB deal, but we’d barely been there for an hour before he said he needed to grab something from the store. Haven’t seen the guy since.” 

“Does this look like the store, Moon Moon?” she deadpanned. 

“Nobody thought he was actually going to the store!” Fen protested. He tried to push open her door, but she clicked her tongue and fixed him with a look that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Fen, you’re a good friend, but this is my first work-free weekend in months, and if I have to miss any more of 10 Things I Hate About You, I will eviscerate you with my work heels. Okay?” 

“Leaving!” he yelped. “Text us if you know where Rowan is, though, yeah?” 

“You’re the ones at his place, you can text him,” she returned. “Goodnight, Moon Moon. Don’t fall off any rooftops again.” 

“It was one time!” he yelled, but she’d already closed the door. 

Aelin went back down to her living room, plopped onto the couch, and grumbled something rather unpleasant about the amount of men who banged on her door at all hours of the day. “Coast is clear, Whitethorn,” she called. 

He came back into the living room a minute later. “Thanks for handling him, Ae.” 

“Anything for a little bit of peace, right?” His huff of a laugh tugged at a thread low in her stomach, but she ignored the odd sensation. “Let me know if you need anything that you can’t find. I’m gonna go upstairs and watch brain-rotting chick flicks until I fall asleep, but you’re more than free to watch one of those docuseries you have such a hard-on for.” 

“Aelin!” Rowan’s face reddened, and he choked out her name in a shocked, strangled cough. “Gods, why’d you have to say it like that?” 

“Because you’re too cute when you’re all flustered, buzzard,” she laughed. “G’night!” She headed upstairs to her bathroom, and after a very long shower and a solid half hour of carefully applying her skincare, she tugged one of her favorite nightgowns over her head and rolled into her bed. She could pick up the faint sounds of water running in the guest bathroom down the hall, and coupled with the soft whir of her ceiling fan, she was soon asleep. 

Only to pop awake not quite three hours later. 

Groaning, she rolled onto her other side and closed her eyes, taking deep steady breaths to try and encourage her restless mind to quiet down. As soon as she managed to quiet her roiling mind, though, her stomach rumbled. 

Traitor. 

Aelin flopped onto her stomach and ignored the growly rumble it emitted in protest, but the more she tried to fall back asleep, the more her body resisted. Finally, in defeat, she muttered a string of curses under her breath and rolled out of bed. She pushed her feet into her slippers, flicked on her bedside lamp, and crept out of her room and down the hall. She took the stairs slowly, because at least half of them creaked loud enough to wake the whole street if stepped on too firmly, but she eventually made it out to the kitchen. The glowing numbers on the oven clock flashed 1:55, taunting her with the ridiculous hour. 

Quietly, Aelin pulled open the pantry door, scanning the shelves quickly and finding nothing that sounded particularly good. She moved over to the fridge and glanced inside, huffing in irritation when she didn’t immediately think of anything quick to grab. After a few minutes, she gave up and opened the freezer, her fingers closing around the pint carton of ice cream tucked into the door shelf. She got a spoon from the drawer and sat down at one of the barstools at the high-top counter, not bothering with a bowl. 

She was only a few bites into the deliciously rich triple chocolate when heavier footsteps creaked on the stairs and a very sleepy, very mussed Rowan half-stumbled into the kitchen. 

His bleary gaze wandered around the kitchen, skipping over her once before snapping back to where she sat with her ice cream. The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he mumbled unintelligibly to himself. “Don’t fall over,” she heard him mumble, and he slid his hand along the countertop to guide his steps as he crossed the kitchen. Straight over to her. 

“Hey, you.” She couldn’t be entirely sure whether he was awake or sleepwalking, so she left her spoon in the carton of ice cream and stood up. “Having a good dream, Ro?” 

“’Bout to get even better.” His arms looped around her waist, and he dipped his head and kissed her. A soft hitched gasp broke from her lips, and she slid one hand up the back of his neck into his messy hair and angled his face so she could kiss him properly. It was a long, drawn-out moment before he pulled back, head tilted back to catch a gulping breath, and his eyes snapped back to hers, clear and aware. “Best dream ever.” 

She blinked slowly. “Ro, are you asleep?” 

“I gotta be.” He passed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “It’s the only time I get to kiss you like this, Ae.” 

“Rowan,” she breathed, heart skipping in her chest. “I…I’m awake.” 

His jaw went slack, and he impulsively grabbed her hand. “Pinch me.” 

“What?” 

“Pinch me, Ae. Gotta know if I’m still dreaming.” Obligingly, she pinched the skin at the crease of his elbow, and he let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak. “Fuck, that—am I awake?” 

“I’d imagine so.” Her eyes traveled slowly downwards, until they landed on their linked hands. “This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came down for midnight ice cream.” Uncertainty clouded his face, and she squeezed his hand. “It’s better.” 

Hope, bright and buoyant, broke free in his grin. “Really?” 

“Really.” She closed the distance between them, rolled up onto her tiptoes to meet his lips. “I think I’ve had this dream before, but it’s better in real life.” And she kissed him.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[thekidsralright]

a love worth fighting for.

pairing: abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis: anderson is the name on everybody's lips when it comes to discussing the newest up-and-coming boxers of the season. with the help of her coach and you by her side, she's going for the world title. but what will she have to sacrifice to get there?

an: so, it's finally here. this is a big one for me folks - i'd go as far as to say the biggest fic i've ever worked on. ever. i'd love for this to be multi chapter, but that depends on the reception part 1 receives. if you like it, please reblog and let me know your thoughts. i'm proud of this, so be kind with your comments x

warnings: 18+ mdni. violence, swearing, references to smut (despite this chap not having any super explicit content, if i decide to continue this fic there will defo be heavy smut in the next upload - so don't even bother reading the first part if you're not of age).

The MC’s voice reverberates throughout the stadium, drowning out the cacophony of cheers, boos, and overarching buzz from the crowd. You could never predict who they would back until the night, usually finding that boxing fans are easily swayed depending on who gets the first punch in. You were hoping all support would be directed at her tonight, god she needed it. Trying to maintain a positive attitude is hard when your girlfriend's opponent is making his way into the ring, his impressive height and wide, muscular shoulders towering leagues above his teams; arms raised, working the crowd and hyping them up in anticipation for the fight to come. They’re already eating out of his hands, the bastards.

“Ladieeees and Gentlemaaan! Welcome to the main event. In the blue corner, weighing in at 188 pounds, undefeated in 48 fights; he needs no introduction folks - it’s the man, the beast, Zach ‘Thunderstorm’ Norriiiiiis!”

The crowd roars in excitement, slapping their hands together and pumping their fists in the air. Zach is one of the nation's favourites, as any undefeated boxer would be. The nickname ‘Thunderstorm’ came from the sound his opponent’s bodies would make when they hit the canvas, like the crack of lightning. You look ahead with a neutral expression, keeping your eyes focused on the empty archway ahead of you - trying not to zero in on just how big his arms were. How they could crush someone's airways, smash apart their ribs, do irreplaceable damage.

You inherently hated what your girl did as a profession, hated the way she put herself in harm's way time after time after time. But there was also a part of you that admired her for it, for the unbreakable determination that radiated from her - if she got beaten down, she would get right back up and come at you even harder. It’s what kept forcing you to show up. That, and also the tiny factor of being absolutely in love with the woman. But when she got hurt, which seemed to be every other day lately, you really wanted to grab a hold of her fucking head and shake the-

“Aaaaand coming into the red corner, Thunderstorm’s opponent, weighing in at 175 pounds. She hails from Salt Lake City, and is rising through the ranks quickly. With 30 wins, 24 of them coming by way of knockout, give it up for the new kid on the block -  it’s Abbyyyyyy Andersooooon!”

And here she comes, bowling out of that archway with Coach right on her tails; the hood of her red robe covering her plaited hair, matching red gloves already fastened and ready. Even from where you were waiting by the stalls, you could see the all-too-familiar expression that befalls her face before every fight. Eyes so dark they look black, focused, unwavering; brimming with unshed aggression that are preparing for the violence that is about to ensue. 

Frightening. Arousing. Another reason you’re still with her.

Abby ducks under the ropes of the ring, bouncing on her feet as she grounds herself on the canvas before moving over to her corner where Coach is now waiting. As you rush up to them, Coach gives you the look he always does before a fight - the type that screams, ‘you shouldn’t be here, girl.’ He thinks you’re a distraction, an irritating fly he’d rather swat away so he can make sure his prized money maker has the best chance at winning. You weren’t giving in that easily. Coach could go to hell for all you cared; you knew his real motivations when it came to all of this. Abby may regard him like a father, but you saw him for what he really was. A leech.

Coach shouts up into Abby’s ear, her head bent in concentration - “He’s a fucking showman. That, and a bit of muscle. You know you got the upper hand tactically; he has no fucking clue what’s about to hit him. Just stay focused Anderson, and this bout is yours.”

Abby nods resolutely, eyes trained on the canvas as she rolls her shoulders back and cracks her neck. Coach’s hands come up to grip the ropes between them.

“You gotta win this champ, you can win this. Just don’t. get. distracted.”

Both Coach’s and Abby’s eyes turn to you at the same time as you offer up a reassuring smile to your girlfriend, also now clutching at the ropes that separate you.

“You got this babe.”

She nods quickly and gives a tight smile, but you can tell from the tense line of her shoulders that she’s stressing out. Yes she’s fought before, but it was never on this big of a scale. Never against opponents like him. It was what Coach insisted was the next step –

“You wanna face off a load of wimps Anderson? Or do you wanna make it to champion status?... Yeah? Of course you fucking do. Then you gotta get in front of the crowds and beat the shit out of the favourites.” 

Easy for him to say, he’s not the one going up against an undefeated fighter. But you had faith in your girl. That was never going to change. You move closer to the ring as she crouches down into the corner, Coach double checking he has all the supplies that she would need between rounds. You take her face in your hands through the division of the ropes and pull her in for a quick kiss - before she can move away, you hold her there and take her chin in your grip, eyes lingering on hers.

“Win this…like I know you can, and then come home and fuck me like a champion.”

You don’t give her time to respond as you let her face go and back away, moving into the crowd as you cheer her name. That posture of stress has eased slightly, and a smug smile is planted on her face instead. Coach, of course, comes and wipes that smirk away as he puts her mouthguard in, holding her head still as he most likely shouts some type of bull at her once again. But of course, she’s listening to him like it’s gospel. Amped up and ready to fight, Abby raises herself to full height, bouncing on her feet and swinging her arms to the side. The crowd aren’t sure what to make of her, most of them never even hearing her name before. But there is the occasional cheer for “Anderson!” amongst the rally of support for Norris. After all, people do love an underdog.

The announcer calls Abby and Norris into the middle of the ring, a hand on both of their chests as he explains, “Now I want a nice, clean game. Nothing below the belt. Are we clear?”

Both nod, pressing against the MC’s outstretched hands in an act of intimidation towards the other. Abby’s face is like stone, never breaking eye contact and standing strong. Norris on the other hand, his smirk was the show of pure arrogance. She better fuck this dickhead up. Both back away from each other, getting into a southpaw stance as the MC’s voice rings out for the last time. 

“Are we readyyyyy…FIGHT!”

You forget about everything else when that bell rings; the crowd getting louder, Coach’s bellows erupting from her corner, the look on Norris’ face as he circles his prey. The toll of that bell ringing in your ears sounds like a death sentence, also signalling the start of round 1. 

____________

By round 4, the feeling of uneasiness settles in your stomach and your eyes continue to follow her quick-shifting form, matching her movements so that when she ducked or flinched back, so did you. Both fighters have been pretty level with one another so far, both sending out jabs and uppercuts - only for them to be warded off before any real damage could be inflicted. It’s not enough to win though, she needs a clear hit.

Abby goes in for a right hook, ever so slightly clipping Norris’ chin and the crowd ripples in response, hoping for the real fight to begin soon. Norris responds with a clinch to stop her from advancing too quickly, wrapping his arms around and over her. You hated seeing him touch her like that, your own fists clenching at your sides in response.

The bell tolls again signalling the end of the round, both fighters making their way to their respective posts - but not before you see Norris saying something in Abby’s ear. She doesn’t move for a second, eyes unwavering on Norris as he turns his back. For a second you think she might go for him, but she’s worked too hard to let her temper win now. With a shake of her head, she goes over to Coach and plunks down on the ground - tearing off her gloves with her teeth and ripping out her mouthpiece. Her focus is still sharply on Norris across the ring, most likely getting strategy tips and a pep talk in her ear from Coach, reminding her to channel all that anger back into the task at hand. 

You don’t move from your seat in the crowd, wanting to give her the space to fully zone in. She knows you’re here for her and only her, and you provided enough motivation at the beginning of the night to last the duration. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the view at the moment either, and that those feelings of uneasiness were also coupled with an overwhelming tide of arousal.

The way sweat is dripping down her face and neck, trickling down her chest and onto her arms. How she runs her hands over the top of her head, dousing it in water and brushing through the roots with her fingers to cool off. Yeah… you really hoped she did win tonight, not just because she deserves it from how hard she’s been training, but selfishly a part of you really wants to get fucked good tonight. Especially after the show she’s putting on for you right now. And you know for a fact it’s only for you.

Abby’s let you know multiple times how much she loves you watching her fight, seeing her crush opponents to a pulp and looking absolutely glorious doing so. It’s upsetting that tonight, she isn’t doing so well. But this is what she and Coach wanted, to start moving up the leagues and facing off against better fighters - solidifying her name among the real competition. You try to stop the negative thoughts from creeping in, try to stay positive for your girl.

The rounds keep stacking up, neither Abby or Norris winning the upper hand for long. It’s evident that both fighters are getting aggravated by round 9, their punches falling on the side of reckless, their expressions displeased and downright pissed. You shout as loud as you can, “Come on baby, you can do this!” in the hopes that Abby can hear you over everyone else. And she must have done, as her head slightly turns in your direction on instinct, and Norris’ gloved fist takes the opportunity to make contact with the side of her face in response.

The crowd screams with excitement, satisfied with the fact that something is finally happening. But all you see is red as the blood sprays from Abby’s mouth on impact, her body crashing into the ropes that barely keep her form upright. You take a step forward as does Coach, you both now waiting for the bell to ring so you can meet her at the post. 12 seconds.

Come on, just stay out of his way for a bit longer…avoid the fucker for 12 seconds!

Abby’s so stunned from that first punch that as she tries to right herself on the canvas and pick up her stance, Norris is already waiting with another blow to the face - this time an uppercut that sends her head flying back and her legs out from under her.

No no no no, NO!

5 seconds.

You’re screaming for her to get up as the crowd counts how long she’s been down. 

1…2…3-

“Stand up! Abby stand the FUCK UP!”

A wave of an arm and a twitch of a leg has you screaming in relief, as Abby slowly gets back on her feet before a KO can be declared, just as the bell signals the end of the round.

Abby all but bolts for her corner, leaning her body and head back against the post - her eyes shut from exhaustion and pain. Coach partially moves out of the way for the cutman, who is trying to clean the blood from her face as best they can - the enswell pressing against the areas where Norris’ punches made impact.

You can see she’s starting to give up, that undeniable fire in her eyes has dulled to a mere glow. You can’t stand it. You try to move your head further into her corner to say “Baby, you can do this, you just gotta-”

Before you can finish, Coach has climbed through the ropes so he’s kneeling directly in front of Abby’s hunched figure, grabbing the back of her head so their foreheads are nearly touching.

“You listen to me Anderson. You’re jumping about this ring like a fuckin’ monkey on steroids. Calm the fuck down, focus in on the technique we’ve been working on for months and stop…getting…distracted.”

At this, both heads turn in your direction. Abby’s expression shows you she isn’t angry about being distracted from your support; she knew you were coming from a good place. Coach on the other hand is looking at you like you went up there and hit her yourself. He never liked when you were around, always insisting that partners were just unwanted emotional baggage that could wait until after the last punch was thrown. But Abby refuses to get in the ring if you aren’t watching from the sidelines.

“Not going out there without my girl, Coach - she’s my lucky charm.”

“Well your lucky charm has been making you late to training. Gotta get your head back to the task at hand. You can play housewives later.”

But tonight isn’t the night to bicker with Coach about things that won’t change. You will both always be here for Abby, and right now she needs you. You hold her gaze, giving a smile and a wink - “Are you seriously giving up this easy? You and me both know you’ve got it in you to bring this piece of shit down. Come on Abs…fucking finish it.”

Coach is clapping her shoulders in agreement, lifting Abby up so she can shake out the stiffness and get ready for the next round. What you hope to be the last round. You take your position back up in the crowd, and get ready to cheer for your, and her, life. The bell rings out. 

Round 10.

____________

She makes every punch count, unleashing herself at Norris like a fucking beast. He doesn't know how to respond to it at first, taken aback at how quickly Abby has switched up her fighting style. The renewed vigour in her movements only enrages Norris even further, the confidence that this fight was his now starting to crack under the weight of Abby’s rage.

He still manages to land some blows, but it’s almost as if she’s stopped feeling them - blinded by the sheer animalistic instinct to push through and keep punching. A flurry of blows to Norris’ face causes him to hunch down and over for relief, but what he doesn't realise is that he’s just given her the perfect head shot from above.

The blow comes fast, and hard. You wince as her gloved fist makes impact with the back of his bent head, forcing his body further beneath her.

Norris goes down, face first into the canvas at Abby’s feet. 

Knockout.

The volume of the crowd increases, if that’s even possible, counting along with the MC to ten to see if Norris has it in him to keep going. You’ve never been more relieved when he doesn't move a muscle.

8…9…10! KNOCKOUT!

You’re screaming, jumping with your arms in the air like a crazy person. She won. Abby won. The MC brings her to the centre of the ring, raising her arm with his to signal her victory. She’s shouting too, showing her black mouthguard mixed with the sight of fresh blood, unable to stand still as she takes a victor’s lap, celebrating her win.

Coach rushes up, gripping her in a bear tackle whilst you look on from the sidelines - still trying to come to terms with what you’ve just witnessed. She won. Against ‘Thunderstorm.’ This is what she’s been working towards for months, hoping for the chance to make her name known among the big leagues. Your girlfriend just put herself on the map, and it wasn’t about to go unnoticed…

____________

It takes a while for you all to make your way out of the stadium, fans constantly asking for autographs and pictures with the underdog-turned-champion of the night. It was nice to see. Finally, Abby was getting the recognition she deserves. Coach was eating that shit up, as expected, spreading the word to anyone that listened that we had a new heavyweight world champion in the making. Abby would get that glint in her eye at every mention of the ultimate title: world champion.

Her head might as well be made of glass, because you can see exactly what’s happening up in that brain of hers as she processes the weight of what’s happened tonight. She can see the prize that has never been in reach now that little bit closer. And she wants it. Bad. You go to remind her to take it one step at a time, but you know it would be received the wrong way.

A number of journalists and presenters were waiting by the entrance of the stadium as you emerged into the cold night. They rush you as soon as they spot Abby. You weren’t expecting so many people to come at you with cameras and microphones, reaching around, past, through you to get to her. A flurry of voices swarm the now enclosed space.

“Anderson, how do you feel after tonight’s knockout performance?”

“Who’s next on your kill list?”

“Are you staking your claim on the heavyweight belt?”

“How will you be celebrating tonight, Abby?”

Overwhelmed, you take a step back so Abby is ahead of you - Coach now placing his arm around her shoulders to also lean into the microphones held up against Abby’s mouth. 

“The next fight is coming sooner than you think. Anderson is ready to take on any of these amateurs and claim the title that is rightfully hers.”

The interviewers all look to Abby expectantly, hoping she seconds the statements made. Of course she does. It’s Abby.

“I’m ready for the next fight. This is what I’ve been training for and I'm not going to slow down now. Put any fighter in front of me and I’ll deal a knockout to whoever wants one.”

You hear this and let out a long breath. This was the flaw that irked you most about Abby. She never knows when to take a break - to step back and appreciate how much she’s already achieved. Once she gets something, it’s on to the next. You just worry that she’s going to burn herself out.

As expected, her comment only invited them to ask more, now wanting to hear the name of the next person she wants to challenge and when that would be. Coach begins to move you all forward again, giving that cheshire smile he’s perfected and a sly “you’ll have to wait and see” - most likely aiming to leave some suspense in the air so more articles are printed tomorrow. 

All three of you go to move through the reporters, making your way to a black SUV waiting just ahead. From where you took a step back, the crowd sees an opening and begins to slot themselves in between you and Abby, hot on her heels with more burning questions. When she turns her head to answer them, that signature smirk on her face is quickly replaced with alarm, then stone cold anger.

One reporter is physically elbowing you out of the way to get a better angle for his picture, the flash blinding you for a second, causing your head to snap the opposite direction. 

You hear her voice ring out over everyone.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend and back away. Now.”

She pushes through until she’s in front of elbow-camera guy, who is currently regretting his choices now Abby is towering over him, his mouth slightly open with a mixture of awe and fear.

“Do you think it’s ok to treat a woman like that? Do you think you can push my woman out of the way and expect me to pose for a photo?”

He’s frozen to the spot, and Abby only raises her eyebrows in response. Taking your hand and pulling you to her side, she turns you both around after muttering “watch yourself” to the wimp you leave behind. 

“Sorry baby” she whispers in your ear, thumb brushing down the side of your arm. Placing a hand on the small of your back, she leads you both through to the SUV and watches you get into the car before joining you. The voices now muffled; you finally release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in since the start of the night. She was fine. She’s safe. Everything’s ok again.

Now you finally have a chance to talk just the two of you - well, you and Abby and Coach - you want to make sure she isn’t serious about jumping straight into another fight. But when she turns to you, her eyes alight with pure happiness that you haven't seen in a long time, you decide to have that talk in the morning.

You have a champion to take home…

____________

The minute you get through the front door of your apartment, you’re leading her to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She’s got that dazed look in her eyes of someone in a dream. Only this dream is real, and you couldn't be happier for her. But God, does she look rough. Hot, always, but rough.

“Did you see how fast he went down when I threw that last punch, bubs? I felt like my chest was going to explode during those 10 seconds, it felt like a lifetime to wait. I need to start thinking about my next move with Coach and strategizing ‘cos I could never use exactly the same technique, these fighters are way smarter than any of those fuckin’ rookies I’ve fought before and-”

“Woah, Abs slow down.” You give a slight chuckle as she realises her rambling, holding her hands up in defeat - allowing you to lightly push at her shoulders so she can sit on the toilet. You grab the first aid bag in the cabinet, packed with the essentials that have come in handy many times through the years. The cutman at every fight has of course offered to clean Abby up, but you always took it upon yourself to take care of her wounds at the end of the night. You both liked it that way. You were gentler, caring.

Getting down on your knees in front of her, you get to work wiping the dried blood from her face, placing cold packs and plasters over her swollen cheek and jaw. She sits there in silence, patiently watching you do it all - her hands trailing over your face, neck, arms.

“ ‘m sorry for not noticing you got left behind…don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything. I just get carried away with it all, ya know?” she mutters, cutting through the silence - cupping the side of your face with her hand as her fingers begin to brush through your hair. You close your eyes as you revel in the feel of it, nuzzling into her palm to give it a kiss.

“It wasn’t your fault, bubs. Besides, you came to my rescue in the end…like always” - you give another kiss to her open palm, reaching up to take her hand in both of yours so you can kiss her sore knuckles.

“Besides, it was kinda worth getting pushed just so I could see you make that guy absolutely shit himself.” You both burst out laughing, leaning in close to one another as if you were best friends sharing a secret. This was the Abby that only you saw. The one who didn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders, who could just be and not think about the next move.

You whisper, “I’m so proud of you,” and she almost begins glowing with pleasure from your praise.

Abby pulls you in by your face, hands back to cupping either side, eyes turning mischievous. 

“I nearly forgot…I have one more thing I need to do tonight.”

You grin up at her, “oh yeah? And what’s that?”

She leans in further, her mouth stopping to hover just next to your ear, whispering “I need to fuck you like a champion.”

Her hand comes down to cup you through your jeans, squeezing ever so slightly. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this ever since they declared KO, getting wetter by the minute just thinking about the moment when she fucks you good and proper. 

“Come on baby…time for round 1.”

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Hey, it's your favorite trans girl influencer, Natalie, here with a quick vid clearing things up since the Q&A with my new bf, Diego. I know you guys were super worried after I livestreamed it and I wanted to reassure you guys of a few things. Yes, I know, Diego misgendered me a lot, he called me he/him when answering questions most of the time and called me 'Nate' instead of Natalie--it's just his petname for me because I was born a boy, don't worry. It's not even my deadname! He's just joking around and having fun.

I know, I've never dated a guy who insists on calling me male pronouns and referring to me by a boyish name but you saw how sweet he was and he's soooo into me! He just loves my breasts, as you could see by how often he touched them and grabbed them while I answered questions. No, I don't mind guys playing with my boobs if I'm dating them. Like I'm totally cool with it in public as long as it's my bf and his friends and not just random strangers. Like I always said I love being the cool girl in a group of guys who's not a prude and down to have fun. I don't care if guys call me a boy or whatever, I just love hanging out around men and feeling their eyes on me, and their hands--er, if we're dating, of course!

As for his answers about me detransing. OK, I'm not gonna lie I was a bit surprised. He never told me how open he was before to me detransing into a femboy and I also didn't know he was bi and into fat guys. That's kind of cute, ngl..... I have zero plans to detransition. You guys know how much I love making content for ya'll, and being an influencer is my whole career. These titties make me serious cash! And I read all your comments and honestly find it so hot when you tell me how much you jerk off to me and how you can't believe I'm trans. But we all saw my cock reveal vid, so ya'll know I'm a guy. Oh, ummm, sorry--that I'm a trans girl! Ahem.... so hopefully you guys won't DM me as much and tell me how worried you are that I'll go and detrans like so many other trans girl influencers like me who started transitioning super young and got big fat titties like these! I promise, guys, Diego was just being a goof, I won't detrans and I'll try to remind him to call me a girl from now on. OK?"

(Six months later)

"Now say you want it," Diego teased his fiance, Natalie.

"Please, baby. Give it to me. I've earned it. I need it!"

"I dunno, I think you still want to play pretend and be a fakegirl."

"No, I swear I want it! Please! I love how it makes me feel. My cock is up to eight inches already! And I can finally cum rope after rope after rope over and over like a regular boy!"

"You do seem fond of jerking off and cooming for hours on end now. You're finally starting to embrace being a boy. But what have you done to earn your testosterone today?"

"Ummm, I jerked off in a women's locker room and got kicked out! I went in, stripped naked, and found this thick pregnant girl who was running on a treadmill, who I watched and stalked all afternoon like a good boy. She had these beautiful breasts, must've been a GG-Cup at least."

"Ah, so like you, but actually a girl instead, not some estrogen-pumped femboy with a fetish for pretending to be a girl."

"Exactly! I went up to her and started gooning like crazy. I jerked off so hard my balls slapped against my fist. It felt amazing! I honestly wanted to fuck her...."

"See? I told you you'd get your perverted male instincts back. How'd she react?"

"Horrified. She looked at me like the biggest creep ever. I stuck out my tongue and drooled, moaning in my new cracked voice, sounding just like a guy...."

"Not that your voice ever passed very well, Nate."

"Mmmmm..... so I jerked off right onto her belly. Security kicked me out as the woman complained that a man wearing makeup pretending to be a girl was in the locker room. I came again, no hands, as the cops escorted me off the premises.... How'd I do?"

"Hmmmmm." Diego smirked in an evil way. "I dunno....."

"But! I acted just like a perverted gooner boy! What else could you want?"

"I want to see you detrans a bit faster....."

"Um.... I need testosterone for that! Please don't take it away..... I can't become a boy without it!"

"Firstly, you ARE a boy, and second.... how would you like to go to jail?"

Natalie blushed. "What.....?"

"Well, with all your public jerk off sessions and cumming on random girls that get your cock hard, I think I can probably get you fast tracked to jail as a sex offender. I have all the evidence right here."

"No..... I just wanna detrans with you! Not be some prison bitch with a shaved head! They'll make me get rid of my boobs! Don't you love them?"

"Nah, I'm tired of them. I think it's time you get those silly things chopped off. Plus, hearing all about your time getting gang fucked in prison and forcibly put on testosterone would be so fun to read about in the headlines and all over social media instead of our private little thing we have going. I can just see it! Famous 'trans girl' influencer caught fondling himself in women's locker rooms, ejaculating on innocent women, I can't wait to read all the comments," he said, almost quoting her.

Natalie's erect cock wagged up and down like an excited dog, making it impossible to hide her excitement. "Um..... OK, I, um..... I'll detrans in prison, and get publicly humiliated.... just to get you off....."

"And you, don't act like this isn't a dream come true for your perverted little boy brain."

Natalie nodded, blushing, her cock cumming on its on, shooting a dozen ropes of cum, hands free. "I guess it is...."

(Two years later)

"Hey guys, finally got a sponsorship! Since I keep eating so much lard on my food I guess this brand reached out. Apparently they're very popular with gaining influencers like me.... On the plus side I'm so fat my boobs are almost back now.... Today marks a year since I got out of jail and Diego's started showing me what a good fat pig I'm meant to be. I pictured myself becoming a stud in jail. I got fit, I worked out, I chatted with the other guys about how many girls we'd fuck after getting out..... Diego reminded me what a submissive little sissy I am....

I'm 350lbs. Diego has me on a 30lbs a month diet so I can get as fat as possible for all of you. When I started trying to become an influencer, doing bikini hauls and trying on cute clothes, showing off my gorgeous breasts and how tiny my cock was, making me look so girly, I never imagined I'd wind up aiming to get to 400lbs asap, posting eating vids all day long, as I make gooning content where I can hardly catch my breath as I watch porn and stuff my face for hours. I feel so disgusting but it's what Diego wants, and if these past few years have taught me anything it's that he knows what's best for me. If he wants me to hit 700lbs I absolutely will.

I can't believe I ever remotely looked like a girl. I watch my old vids and jerk off now. I watch my smelly, fat male body jiggle as I pump my cock, watching my girly self dance and jiggle her boobs, so thin and beautiful. But now I know I'm meant to be a pathetic gooner. I was only playing dress up as a fakegirl to infiltrate women's spaces and get off as I watched them undress or heard them use the bathroom in the stall next to me. I can barely keep my cock to myself in public, thankfully I have this huge gut now making it harder for me to reach down there and goon. I used to be so well behaved and integrated perfectly with other girls, but taking T has revealed what a perverted boy I really am, obsessed with jerking off and staring at women I'll never fuck as my fiance makes me so fat I can't even have sex to begin with.... it's what every fakegirl deserves, and I'm glad so many of you are DMing me with similar detrans stories and weight gain stories as men, after being inspired to transition after seeing my old content, only to realize I'm a fat male feedee and chronic gooner now..... AKA the actual role model so-called trans girls need to start looking up to!"

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday my lovely readers :) Ahhh already 4 eps into this season. Almost half way there. Doesn’t take long when we only got 10. Ha Still grateful for what little we got was better than nothing tbh. Also reached the limit on my master post for links. Apparently there is a limit. Boo. Gotta add a link to a new posts in there for rest of the reviews. Was kinda shocked at the lower amount of gifs for this ones. So a lot are the made ones from me. Anyways this is really really good one. Let us begin.

6x04 Training Day

We start out with Lucy being a lying liar who lies. Not even well.... Tim not believing her even a little bit that she’s "fine." One of Lucy’s tells is her fidgeting. Whether it’s her hands, her sleeves, and the ever infamous tattoo touch she does. All indicators she is anything but fine. Tim is well versed in all of these things. Because he has the book of Lucy memorized. Her telling him it’s ’Not a big deal.’ Is a big ol red flag for him.

Tim voicing as such to her. Letting her know anytime he’s heard that from a woman in his life they were anything but that. Lucy keeps pretending she’s made peace with it. That’s she’s a professional. She will keep on keeping on. But as we know with this episode that is a load of absolute BS. It's one thing after another for her in this one only adding to very 'not fine' she is. Poor girl.

They do turn a cute corner with her asking if he wants her to be upset? Tim replying of course he doesn't. But the man is worried. Rightfully so. The smile on her face when she asks this is adorable though. They have a nice little moment of reprieve till numbskull Nolan appears. Bringing up the very thing that is eating at her. Her short ‘I’m fine.' Before taking off. Ugh. Undoing any progress Tim made. Thanks John forever the worst with that stuff. Smh. The way Tim’s eyes follow her after that. *sigh*

So begins the hell episode for Lucy. She shows up to the scene asking about their killer. Then asks Harper/Angela if they want her to start canvassing? They tell her yeah the northwest corner. Lucy making a crack no one has covered it yet because it’s by the ‘Hell dumpsters’. Their sassy looks say everything. Lucy spitting back a company line about being a patrol officer. Oh my girl. It’s hitting her so hard she’s still a patrol officer. Feeling like at this point in her career her talents are being wasted. I mean they are…That much is clear in this moment.

Her expression at the end of the scene says everything tbh. About all that frustration and feeling like a failure. This is the starting point of Lucy isolating herself. I know everyone thought she had zero support. To me and I know others said it during the season too. That she isolated herself. Because just like Tim when she is going through something she does it alone. She is internalizing EVERYTHING right now. I have been known to do this as well. The need to shutdown and do it alone. I can relate to her.

She has a solid support system but that doesn’t mean she’s taking advantage of said system. I can relate to that very well too. It took awhile but I now have a solid system. I don’t always rely on them in times of emotional distress. It’s a learned skill. One I'm still learning to use. We talk about Tim and his need for therapy. Lucy needs it too. They’re scarily alike in their unhealthy coping mechanisms. It’s frightening really. Also the song running through this is so good (Dandelion-ill peach)

This next portion is the beginning of her spiral as well. It’s wrapped inside her isolation. It’s a recipe for disaster as we see later on... The isolation continues while she is guarding the dumpsters solo. If there was ever a time Lucy didn’t need to be alone with her thoughts it would be today. She spots some puke and thinks it might be from the killer. Calls Harper and tells her as such.

Harper tells her it’s unlikely to be related but they’ll need to process it anyways. Unfortunately it is only going to extend her time in hell. Nyla telling her could take a couple hours. 4 tops…Ugh. Not exactly what her day needs. Doesn’t help Harper cuts her off on the phone before she can finish her sentence. *sigh* Now Lucy is left to sit in her thoughts and stew in her emotions. I believe this episode was setup to reflect how Lucy is feeling.

Which honestly is like shit. How she feels alone (self inflicted or not), how she’s falling behind and feelings of failure. It’s reflected in all her scenes in this one. It’s a tough one to watch for her. She’s feeling very segregated and this dumpster canvass isn’t helping. As we know our girl isn’t very good at spotting when she’s being emotionally blind to her own feelings. Nor realizing when she’s not reaching out for the help she needs. The thing about support systems is they can’t be mind readers. You gotta relay when you need that support.

Lucy watching that press conference is killing me softly. You can see so much emotion written all over her face. The jealously and the annoyance of not being the one up there. Because well she almost was. It was just dumb luck (title of Nolan’s career) that they got that call and she didn’t. Ain't nothing going our girl's way today and it shows. She is a seething cauldron of emotions that she is tamping down under the guise of being ‘fine’

I do LOVE her waiting on Tim so they can go home together. (Also the hands in his jeans, the shirt, the jacket. Mmm gimme) It’s the little married things that get me all amped up. Waiting on her man to go home. It makes me so happy and squee. She needs it more than ever too. I swear at this moment in time the only keeping her sanity intact is that man.

He reads her like a book from moment he sees her though. Knows what her sour mood is all about. That if only Primm had seen her linked to this case. Seen this press conference it would’ve proved him wrong about her. Made him regret tanking her exam. Damn he knows his girl. Because that's exactly what her face is conveying in the very beginning of this scene.

Lucy notes instead of that she was stuck in dumpster hell. Not only that but she guarded puke for 3 hours. Based on the off chance it belonged to the killer. Tim asking if it did? Hoping to God it did LOL It’s the way Melissa delivers the sick dog line that cracks me up. How she could easily lose her shit right now. Like that was the straw that broke the camel's back for her today.

Ugh I hate it so much for her. She was already all up in her thoughts and failures. Probably thinking why her? What can’t she have even the simplest win? That she’s been resigned to guarding puke and it not even being helpful. That it should be her up there not Nolan. I mean I agree it should be. This is all just percolating toward the rash decision she makes later.

So damn desperate to prove she’s worth her salt. That this is the career for her. She’s meant to do so much more than patrol, canvassing, and general grunt work. Our girl is in dire straits and Tim can see it clear as day. Which is what makes this next portion so sweet and important tbh. Also doesn’t hurt there are more married vibes attached to it.

I love the gentle advice given here from Tim. She’s had a really bad day and he’s being sensitive to it. Doling out solid guidance but being soft about it. Applying logic with empathy so she gets his point but also doesn’t get more upset. Tim can see how this rough shift has rocked her. Especially when she is already on shaky ground. This man like I’ve been saying has been 10/10 for her. Idk what she would’ve done without him eps 1-4 I really don’t.

The beauty of this scene is him empathizing and building her back her up in the process. Reassuring her in the kindest way. That yeah you had a bad day, you’ll have 'em again, but tomorrow could be a whole new ball game for her. That being on patrol is an 'anything can happen game.' Knowing she is down about patrol right now. The man knows. Then is positive about it. Saying today wasn’t her day but tomorrow could be. I love this man so very much. As does Lucy.

I just love the ‘share our day’ marriage vibes this scene holds. Tim sees she had the tougher day and is there for her. Lucy getting lighter as they continue to talk. Something Tim is very good at. The best part of this scene is he gets her to laugh.

After he’s said his piece and comforted her he takes it a step further. Makes his lady laugh and we’re all here for it. Telling her not to be so greedy LOL It’s the way Lucy is looking at him that gets me in the first one. Her Tim smile in full force. Then their precious combined smiles in the second one. God damnit they’re so cute you guys.

I’m dying. They make each other so happy I wanna cry. The lack of space and how they bump arms as they laugh. Just being in love with all to see I cannot. Lucy being grateful for this goof of a man making her smile. For relieving her even if it's just for a short while of that weight on her soul. Letting him carry it with her for a bit. *heart clutch* I love them sfm.

First off before we delve into this part, I wanna say Lucy is an absolute BAMF is in the moments leading up to Harper/Angela arriving. How calm and collected she is. Making sure to cover Bailey as she gets her downed partner. If she could see herself in this moment she wouldn’t have so many doubts. But sadly that is not how crippling self esteem/confidence issues work. I just love watching her in the field and how well she handles herself.

Second my heart was racing from moment that man is shot in the chest. The entire moment is one giant adrenaline rush. Holy hell. Lucy covers for the duo until they reach her cover. Their airship is three minutes out and Lucy doesn’t think they can afford to wait. Wants to run down the alleyway solo. Cut him off so he doesn’t get away. That desperate need to prove herself rearing it’s ugly head.

Not only that but it is running the show for her right now. Harper immediately says no. That’s it's a 40 yard run in an open field. Lucy isn’t listening to her advice though. Level headed Lucy would've heeded her warning. Once again this season she is not with us in this moment. Saying to blow his head off if he pops up. That she’ll be alright. Angela doesn’t look pleased with this idea either. I mean look at her above. Concern written all over her. Her gut feeling screaming this isn't a good idea....But Lucy is hell bent on it.

This run had me holding my friggin breath. Tim would’ve lost his damn mind had he seen this. Not only that he would’ve ripped them a new one to letting her attempt it. When she got hit first time watched it I screamed. Held my breath until she got back up. Angela and Harper’s horrified faces mirrored my own. Couldn’t breathe till she popped back up. It was the most reckless risk she could've taken.

She is very very lucky her radio took the hit. It saved her damn life after that crazy run of hers. Lucy taking Tim's suggestion of being a big hero a little too literally. Honestly would’ve loved to have seen Tim tear them up for letting her do this... Reckless doesn’t seem strong enough of a word with this action. This decision of hers is a culmination of an episode long isolation. Of letting her emotions run the show and she took a risk that could've killed her. All to proof she could do it.

She had definitely given into those voices in her head telling her she’s not enough. Telling her she needs to prove herself or no one will ever think she’s worthy of moving up. To show she doesn't belong on patrol anymore. If she had just told her support system and really Tim how she was feeling. She wouldn’t have been this damn hasty. Lucy wasn’t thinking about what would happen if her radio didn’t catch that bullet. How utterly wrecked Tim would be if she had been hurt or even worse killed.

The problem being she kept all these emotions and struggles to herself. Which clouded her judgement. Her brain wasn't thinking in this capacity. This moment showing the continued communication problems in their relationship. How her decision could've really affected Tim. She wasn't thinking that in the moment though. Their communication issues go both ways with them. When they’re feeling emotionally distraught or vulnerable they isolate and take their problem on themselves.

Which results in foolish and hasty decisions. I.e. this moment above. And in next 2 eps with Tim...Something they gotta work on either before they’re back together or in the early repairing of their relationship. We get to see her KIA radio once she is clear. It very much saved her life and is now useless to her. I do love how she communicates with them before she pursues Jeff. Harper commending her on being smart in this moment. I mean they're in it now. So every move she makes from here on out has to be smart.

Lucy catches Jeff in the alleyway just like she wanted. Unfortunately he doesn’t look like he is interested in surrendering. Melissa crushes this scene oh my lord. The shaky way her voice breaks when she tells him to stop. To put his weapon down. Trying so hard to prevent a deadly outcome. I’m getting 5x19 flashbacks for her in this moment. Lucy dealing with the same issue Tim had. A person willing to die instead of give up. Despite them wanting to concede.

Lucy is basically pleading with this man to give up. She doesn’t want to shoot him. Doesn’t want it to end this way. Lucy is an empath as we all know. So her shooting him right or not she is going to carry it on her soul regardless. It’ll be a stain on it because she would’ve done anything to avoid this.

Lucy is on the verge of tears when she calls out Code 4. That the shooter is down. Ugh my heart. Adrenaline from end to end with this moment. Having it finish with a bang made my stomach sink for her. We watch how it affected Harper in 6x01 and she’s seasoned. How it affected Tim in 5x19. It’s never anything I wanna see our characters go through. Felt like I couldn’t catch my breath even after he was done. Such a good scene though.

Then comes the best part of the episode. Tim storming in like the worried husband he is. He has her work bag and I wanna cry. He has a death grip on it as he searches for the desk. I just love that he made sure to grab her bag before rushing off to the hospital. Man is on a mission to find her. Nothing matters to him but her in this moment. It’s the way he goes to the desk and they direct him to her immediately. He thanks the nurse with his tap to the counter.

I can’t imagine how he was when he first got the news. The look of sheer worry painted across his face when he steps foot into that hospital. Worried Tim is everything and Eric conveyed so much in these first two gifs. The first one is all concern and anxiety. He can’t breathe until he has laid eyes on his girl. The second one is relief in finding her. Tim completely by passes the gaggle of people outside of her room.

Doesn’t check in with them or see what happened at the scene. All that matters to him is getting to her. It’s the way he stops before he enters in. Taking a beat for the first time since he arrived. Then steeling some resolve knowing he needs it be her rock in this moment. Once he does this he steps into her room. Checking in and asking her if she’s hurt? He’s so gentle and soft like we all expect at this point with him. Doesn't take his eyes off her for one second as he sets her bag down.

Per usual the music department be killing it out here with the song selection. The soothing guitar and the singers soft voice are the perfect backdrop to this scene. His voice is as tender and comforting as Tim's tone through out the scene. Once again Melissa and Eric are the epitome of chemistry. Their amazing acting chops shining through in this moment. Melissa got me crying and all in my feels. Once Tim knows she’s physically ok it’s time to take care of her emotionally. The hand to her hair has me reeling. The way he strokes her head it’s so intimate and gentle.

Telling her she didn’t have to take his suggestion so literally. My heart. It’s all ‘hands hands hands’ from here on out. Like I said in 6x02 their physical chemistry forever floors me. It’s also just so damn sweet. Like he has to be touching her in order to know she’s ok. To reassure himself that she’s actually sitting in front of him right now. Saw a great tag said whenever we get hands like this makes them feral. How I felt about this entire scene.

So many wonderful facets to fangirl about and be feral over tbh. The man can’t stop touching her and I’m here for it. From the moment he was allowed to he was off to the races. Makes my heart so happy. He’s so tactile with her. It makes me wanna scream into a pillow. Touch is one of his languages with her but also their love language as well. It shows constantly. Honestly getting this soft scene after that adrenaline fest was much needed. That whole shooting scene had my blood pressure up.

I’m just bawling for Lucy after this. We get to see all she's been holding in. How incredibly upset she is about this whole situation. It's here with Tim comforting her she finally lets her walls down. Because her protector is there. He is there to pick up her broken pieces and put her back together. I know that feeling. Where you've been keeping it together. Then your person comes and asks if you're ok? And you realize how much you're not and the floodgates open.

That's Lucy in this scene. With tears in her eyes she tells him she doesn’t feel like a hero. Tim’s hand hasn’t left her at all btw. They both need this touch to ground them right now. I love how he rubs his thumb up and down her shoulder. Comforting her while she tells him her worst fear. The one thing that's been weighing on her soul since she released that shot in the alley. That she killed Jeff Budney. Asking Tim what if she killed him?

Tim crushing it with the comforting and being calm in his reply. So certain that no matter the outcome it’ll be ok. Why you ask? Because they’re going to deal with it together. The ‘Then we’ll deal with it.’ is EVERYTHING she needs to hear right now. Because yeah it’s bleak right now. But Tim wants to make sure she knows she isn’t alone. That he is there and no matter if he makes it or not he’s by her side. These are the exact reassurances she needs in this moment.

Lucy’s reaction has me crying some more. It’s the stifled cry when he tells her this. The sad shake of her head. Killing me softly. She couldn’t face the possibility of Budney dying. Not until her person showed up. Her fierce protector and love of her life standing by her side. Letting her know it’s ok. Even if it’s not it will be because they’ll face it together. Gah getting emotionally writing this up. This scene was primo on so many levels. *chef kiss.*

It’s here Grey and Wes enter the room. They let our lovely couple know he made it through surgery. Thank you Lord. The relief that floods Lucy is immense. I love how she looks at Tim and shakes her head. Needing his grounding stare as she takes in this news. Making sure it's real. Wes is quite the downer when he tells her for now. That if he dies later the investigation has to resume. The look on Grey’s face like WTF man…Let her have the win.

We see protective Tim step in after this. Asking if she can do her statement tomorrow? All he wants to do at this point is get her away from this hospital. From Jeff Budney and prying eyes. Wade is super sweet and turns on his dad mode and says that’s fine. Tries to get her to look and meet his fatherly gaze. She is too out of it to notice his kind look. All the more reason Tim needs to get her the hell out of this place.

Tim breaks her out of her revere with his touch as she watches them depart. I’m squeeing at the way he squeezes her collarbone, then soothes it with his thumb, before he moves his hand to the back of her neck. All the affectionate touches and very tender comforting has me ship drunk. His hand didn’t leave her for ninety percent of this scene. *happy sigh* He’s trying so hard to keep her there with him. To let her know he’s there and hasn’t left.

It’s the soft way he tells her ‘Let’s go home.’ also has me squeeing. Her home is now his home and I’m bawling. Like I said earlier all he wants to do is take her home and continue the comfort. Knowing the last place she needs to be is here. It’s the sweet smile on his face as he beckons her off the bed. Gah what a good man. Took care of her heart and soul in this moment.

Lucy doesn’t make it far before she is collapsing into his arms. Truly letting her walls down in full. Relaxing for the first time and melting completely against him. It’s the way she folds into his arms so easily. How he has her wrapped up in them immediately. Shielding her from the rest of the hospital. From this situation. One hand in her hair cradling her gently to his chest. How he is softly cupping the back of her head. The other wrapped around her nice and tight. Cocooning her in his embrace. His eyes shutting the minute he can feel her safely in his arms.

Tim breathing for the first time since he entered this room. All the while giving her the comfort zone of being in his arms. Gah it’s the slight sway that goes along with it that has me swooning. Rocking her in his arms sweetly. Trying to give her the solace she had been craving since that alleyway. Lucy hiding her face happily in his chest as he does this. Her hand placed on his chest as well has me happily sighing. No one does hugs quite like our couple does. The emotions they evoke out of me is unreal. They are top tier goodness.

To make the hug even sweeter we get a kiss to the head. The way Lucy wraps her arms around his back fully as he does this. Grounding her further as he takes care of her. They continue their lovely swaying as Tim places his cheek on her head. Resting it there lovingly. There’s a reason I kept this hug as my banner. Not that I don’t love the elevator hug in 6x09. I love it so much and will gush when we get there. But this hug ranks up there as top ones for me. Why you ask?

This hug just exemplifies how they provide comfort for each other. How physical touch is one of their primary love languages. They are each other's sanctuary. A happy and safe place amid the darkness their job brings. Coupled with the song playing in the background, the moment becomes even more glorious. It’s a beautiful scene made even more poignant by the this loving embrace.

I'm still not over how beautiful this scene is. You can see the stress and anxiety just drain out of Lucy. From the moment she is in his arms she is at peace. The same for Tim with pulling her into his arms. They both needed this hug so much. The continuity of the head kisses I’m here for as well. Gimme that all day long. In every future hug. I remember thinking as the shot panned out what would she have done without Tim in this moment? Without his wonderfully soothing comfort? Ugh what makes the next set of episode a gut punch that I still haven’t recovered from…

Thanks as always to my amazing readers who like, comment or reblog these reviews. Means the world to me. I shall see you all in 6x05 :)

~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

I love Aaron going out with Tim for his first day. Going over the T.RA.I.N yummy T.O Tim in a Metro outfit. I will take that at every chance I can get it. If I had only know this was my last ep with him in that outfit would've appreciated it more 😭 Also this gif was for eye candy. Nothing more nothing less. How I wish to be the chair for which he leans upon in this scene. Metro outfit, badge showing, the way he is deliciously leaning against that chair. *fans self* Doesn't hurt Aaron is hilarious in his quest to please Tim LOL

We watch Nolan continue to be a terrible T.O. He lets Celina say a huge no no over the radio smh

Something else wanted to touch on for the Lucy having no support system. What happened with Jeff Budney is the direct result of not relying on said support system. I'm not blaming her. I have been her. Just want to make that very clear. But the gaggle of people outside her room worried about her is that system. Waiting to see what happens to her etc Everyone was worried about her and for her.

Other than Tim she does have it but as we know this season is super rough on her. So that is hard to see. Especially with losing her main pillar of that system in Tim. Which causes her to retreat even farther inside, but that’s for future eps to delve into. I remember D had this great post about how Lucy has been isolating for years. We were just finally seeing the result of that. Very true.

I mean only person she's really let in other than Jackson is Tim. That's it folks. Because she too has walls. She has Tamara but it's not the same as what she has with Tim. Once again hoping s7 resolves this isolation and her career path in the process. I'll be ok with her being put through it if we can have a good conclusion to go along with it.

Lastly the song running through the final scene is ‘Let it all go’ the lighthouse and the whaler. Such a good song.

[mee3pp]

farm house pt 7

I apologise this one is a bit of a short one <3

cw: talking about sex, swearing, almost physical altercation between father and daughter

Johnny is very rudely awoken to the sounds of arguing in the kitchen down stairs. Surely he shouldn’t be able to hear that far but the house is old and not super full of stuff. He stands up out of.. Bed? Oh… his better kiss his crown jewels goodbye because he’s woken up in your bed. He chucks on some clothes before going down stairs to figure out who is arguing. 

Johnny is met by a rather interesting sight. You and Price are practically toe to toe as you argue. “I am a fully grown 28 year old woman. If I want to have a half naked drunk man in my bed that I trust I can” you growl at Price it’s almost scary how much you sound like him. “I’m aware you are grown but it doesn’t give you the right to go sneakin’ around with a man i very clearly told you to stay away from” Price huffs back. If Johnny didn’t know his Captain like the back of his hand he’d say Price is about to get into a physical fight with his own daughter over him. “Bull shite! I can do whatever the fuck i want and i ain’t sneakin’ around with Johnny we simply fell asleep together in my bed” You snarl pointing a finger in your fathers face.

“With basically no clothes on” Price says clenching his fists which raises the concern of all the bystanders being Ghost, Maybel, Gaz and of course the problem himself Johnny. “So? I could be butt ass naked and it still wouldn’t matter! Becuase i ain’t fuckin him. I haven’t even kiss him” You growl out breathily also clenching your fists. Simon is about to step in when you shoot him a look and he backs down immediately. “Do i need to remind you this is MY house?That I paid for.”  You add which makes Price more angry as you’ve now embarrassed him. “No. I am well aware this is your house but Soap is my man, my soldier. I gave him direct orders and you willingly helped him disobey them” Price huffs and you step closer.

It looks at any minute that one of you is going to swing, which wouldn’t be surprising. Sure the Price family is known for patients when it came to others but when it came to family that was thrown out the window. This wouldn’t be the first time you both have been close to punching each other, but the feeling is always mutual. “I can do whatever the fuck i want! If i want to help some stupidly good lookin’ man disobey orders then God help me i will” You growl clenching your fists so tight your knuckles turn white and you and your father both raise your fists slightly just to your waists so Simon decides it’s time to step in. “enough both of you. John go take a walk and have a smoke” Simon orders Price knows he’s serious as he never calls Price John unless he means something. So reluctantly Price walks away outside to have a smoke leaving you frustrated and wanting to kill or hit someone preferably your father. Then you zero in on Johnny and it makes your anger simmer down a little. “Ya lucky ya pretty” You jab a finger at him before tugging on your work boots and heading outside to move some hay to take out your frustrations.

“Hey Barbie” you huff as you pat your livestock guardian Barbie on the side. You get stuck into moving some hay for your first flock of sheep giving them two small bales to eat, you check the progress of the lambs tails to see if they are ready to be docked yet. Before you know it Simon has snuck up on you and is leaning on your tractor as you move hay. “What?” you huff. “Good work on not punchin’ your old man” Simon chuckles which earns a glare from you. “You should’ve let me” you huff again. “No can do, need him in workin’ condition. Gettin’ pretty heated over ol’ Johnny” Simon teases “If i was you i wouldn’t put up that much of a fight he ain’t that pretty” You roll your eyes at Simon but you can’t help but crack a small smile. “Soooo did ya sneak off with Maybel last night?” You say poking his arm and he grunts. “Do I have to tell ya?” He groans “oh come on i’ll find out sooner or later” you grin grateful for the distraction. “Fine. yes i did ‘sneak off’ with Maybel” He begrudgingly huffs. “Is little Simon satisfied?” You tease and he scowls “please never call my dick little Simon ever again” which earns a chuckle from you “was it everything you hoped for and more?” you pry more. “I'm not answering that”

“I thought he was going to split me open girl!” Maybel giggles as you both sit outside on your deck with coffee. You listen intently as Maybel tells you about her encounter with Simon. “He’s huge.. Like i mean i seriously don’t think it’s humanly possible” She adds to which you scrunch up your nose with a chuckle. “Eugh, I don't need to know that! That’s like you tellin’ me my brothers exact measurements” You joke as Maybel proceeds to act out how big not so ‘little Simon’ is with her hands. “It was good though, everything I was dreaming of.. Although he was gentler then I imagined” she hums before taking a sip of her coffee with a content smile. 

tag list:

@tabbslouuformer

@thepowers-kat-be

@amberpanda99

[ansbobcar]

Questioning Innocent Zero's Reproductive Life (crack theory)

Big manga spoilers sorry, I just can't stop thinking about Mashle it's getting to weirdly technical point.

For context: Innocent Zero was like 80 something when he had Doom (who is age 30). I'm not saying that it's impossible to reproduce at that age (Haven't studied proper biology in ages). After all, he still has a baby face in the canon story where he's like 118 years old or something.

ANYWAYS the gist of it is:

Innocent Zero is a male widow of 3 women.

Sounds crazy right? WRONG! I'll prove it to you with his children!

First of all, why 3 wives/ppl who birthed his kids instead of 1 or 4+?

The kids' marks!

(I'm too lazy to pull up the manga panels so have the fandom wiki instead)

Doom, Famin and Epidem's arrows face up/north.

Delisaster's arrows go down.

Domina's marks goes up AND down.

Initially, I theorised that IZ had 2 wives due to the big age gap between Delisaster and Domina.

I know 1 wife could also work becuz big age gap siblings exist too but lowkey I doubt that would be possible based on the fact that we KNOW that Domina's upbringing was crazy hell. Imagine what sorta upbringing the first 3 kids went through and the toll it would take on their biological mother.

He probably had connections to getting a wife candidate by disguising himself to look younger through magic and probably some sorta shady love bomb/potion method. Personal mini theory is that he planned to only have 1 wife to birth his kids so he put the most effort to getting the 1st wife.

But the 1st wife died after birthing Epidem so he scrambled for babysitters, inanimate or living and ended up having a fling with a babysitter aka the 2nd wife and BAM she also dies while giving birth to Delisaster not a year later after taking care of the other brothers.

IZ takes a break from making kids because he thinks that 4 are enough but by the time Doom turns 5, he realises that he needs to invest in making them bring terror

17 years before canon he has another fling needing backup/extra babies because he misread shit. Now equipped with baby infrastructure, he sees his 3rd wife as the most disposable to which this woman dies after giving birth to twins aka Domina and Mash.

Innocent Zero now doesn't need anymore kids. But like bro was like 100+ with that last fling TwT, I think he actually stopped being able to reproduce because when he did that body augmentation thing, he fully sacrificed that stuff.

Thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

Something I noticed as a young adult and budding trans woman are that games with character customization, or at least character building in some way, are very overwhelmingly two different options: men only, or men and women only. Very few of these games were women only, and I kind of jokingly refer to them as "games that would have cracked my egg".

Now I want to preface this with two things: one, this absolutely could be a matter of the genres I was in; and two that not every game that has male AND female options is doing so in a way that is lazy and there are several which make the gender choice impactful in meaningful ways. I want to refute these to a point because I know they're going to be brought up.

First, I mean as a kid I typically played RPGs. I wasn't the type of person who absolutely was only in the "macho" genres that were out there, and I mean I played a shit ton of Final Fantasy 6 and 13. RPGs with female protagonists are very real (and was a big reason why FF13 failed with the Youtube reviewer crowd), but there are basically none with a customizable female only protagonist. In addition, even despite this, why the fuck does genre matter? If your video game genre makes sense for a customizable character, it can make sense to have a female only game in that genre!

Second, this isn't necessarily a point about whether customizable female characters exist in the space at all, but this is a point much rather about how male protagonists are considered the default, and a male protagonist default usually informs A LOT about the game design and the world built around that character. In addition, for every game that gets this right, there are usually five more that don't, and the female character is treated functionally identically to the male character except they have to Ctrl+F all the times they use "he" in the game's script. This is why you get games that are aggressively heterosexual but because they did relatively zero work integrating a female protagonist, they accidentally give off big lesbian vibes. It's the same principle for why the representation for your game shouldn't only be paper-thin bisexuality.

Games with female main protagonists are often notably less common than ones with male main protagonists, and many times, this is buffered a bit by the addition of an ensemble cast. What makes FF6 and FF13 notable amongst their peers, including games like FF16 which have "female protagonists", is that the strongest female protagonists often form the narrative core of the story. FF6 has a large ensemble cast, but it is the struggles and efforts of Terra and Celes that drive things forwards, and to go into how Lightning, Fang, and Vanille form the narrative and emotional core of FF13 is a subject to an entirely different post. But like they still exist.

So many games have self-insert male characters compared to female ones. I'm genuinely surprised when I find a game with a character creator that only has a female protagonist. It is something that says a lot on the general sexism and misogyny in gaming spaces, how the male video game player is still considered the defacto default audience, and how worlds often aren't considered through the lens of female characters, or even just the perspective of a female player.

But on a more personal note, it's just...sad. Genuinely. I probably would have realized I was trans a few years earlier than I did had there been games like that out there and more in the public consciousness. So many games provided a cover in having a male option (and especially since so many of these games are aggressively heterosexual lol, looking at you Mass Effect) that I never needed to confront my feelings. It makes me feel bad than even to this day an entire audience of players aren't really considered as important.

Why can't we have games for us, you know?

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Ten.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,738

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

“Oh, look at this!” Greta announced from her seat upon the rear porch, Emily’s foot in her lap as she and her friend both jointly painted one another’s toenails their usual shade of red. “The menfolk have returned triumphant with a big ole’ corpse!”  

“And I see you’re livin’ it up true to long weekend form, sittin’ over there all fried on gin rickeys!” Angelo called back, Greta and Emily snorting with laughter. They were a little merry, feeling that they could shrug off any responsibility they felt bound by morality to uphold, returning to a relieving sight of Filomena listening to records in the lounge while drinking tea, Guiseppe off fishing in the middle distance, and Milania keeping Alessio entertained.  

“I’ll get it cut and gutted, fellas.” Robert spoke as they carried it around to the side of the house, where a small outbuilding was located. While he went about dealing with the carcass, the women guessing that the probability of a fresh venison dinner was very high that night, their men went upstairs to wash and change, joining them afterwards with a large whiskey a piece.  

“You two had a good day?” Luca asked, jerking his head in the direction of the lounge as he quietened, “and has there been any issues from her in there?” 

“Hungover this morning,” Emily mouthed, leaning a little closer to him, “Alessio came and woke me at eight, and she finally got up about forty-five minutes later. She hasn’t been unpleasant or anything, though. Just keeping herself to herself.” 

His eyebrows twitched, reaching to rest his hand on her thigh. “Good. I ain’t got no more patience for her shit.” She could understand that, knowing Luca as well as she did. His threshold for nonsense was virtually zero, and she knew too that it had planted a seed of concern, should Filomena be wandering around drunk while she was solely in charge of the kids, since the nanny he paid didn’t live in with them.  

Later that evening, once again the woman in question sat at the end of the table only engaging with her children over dinner, knocking back glass after glass of wine, Milania repeatedly looking over at her father with wide eyes. 

“Fil, you need to slow it down,” he spoke eventually once the plates had been cleared, leaning forward in his seat. “You put away a bottle to yourself. You want a pickled liver?” 

“Says he with a cognac in his hand,” she muttered into her glass, gulping on the Cabernet Sauvignon like she was drawing strength from the deep red liquid.  

His mouth tightened, muttering something under his breath that made Emily place a discreet, supportive hand to his thigh beneath the table. “I ain’t the one knockin’ ‘em back like water. You’re making our kids worry, and that ain’t gonna happen on my watch.” 

“Fine.” Standing up, she grabbed the almost full second bottle she’d just begun working her way into, a smile of gritted teeth cracking her unimpressed face. “Allow me to move so it’s not on your watch.”  

Her sneer had her daughter sighing, Emily wishing she could reach across the table to offer comfort, but knowing she’d likely make things worse if she tried. At least the kid let Greta wrap her up in a hug, advising that maybe it was time for her and her brothers to head up to bed and escorting them. 

Her own sons went to go listen to jazz in the front lounge, the guys going to play cards, Greta joining Emily outside once more once she’d got the little ones settled.  

They sat enjoying the last of the wine, neither mentioning the black cloud that was Filomena hanging over them and their long weekend away, both separately hoping she actually find a little dignity and knock her behaviour on the head. Instead, they spoke of happier things, like Greta detailing an embarrassing event from a vacation she and her family had taken to Spain a few years back. 

“So, I was there, queuing up with the boys again to send ‘em down the water slide, and this woman is behind me. She taps me on the shoulder, and I don’t know much Spanish at all save a few words to get me by, but she said something I recognised about swimsuit. I thought she being complimentary over mine, so thanked her and turned around. This broad taps me again, saying the same thing so I’m like “si señorita, gracias”, and I turn around again. She taps me a third time with these wide eyes, pointing at my ass, which I turned to see was sticking out through a gigantic rip in my swimsuit!” 

Emily was in hysterics. “Oh my god!” she cried, “and you’d been walking around like that with your cheeks on show for how long?” 

“Couldda been all damned day, dolly! Nobody told me! What in the good god is that, huh? Letting a woman walk around bare assed!” 

“I flashed most of fifth avenue last year, when we had that terrible, windy weather just before Christmas. My dress almost went over my head, I was screaming, and Luca? Did my guy help me? Did he hell. He was walking along, shoulders shaking, and I swear I have never heard him laugh like that when he finally turned to me and my beetroot face. He roared!”  

“Strange, ain’t it? When the taciturn guys really cut loose with the laughter. He don’t take enough time to see the fun side of life sometimes, your guy, but when he does, hoo, boy!” 

“Tell me about it!” she enthused, “we went to go and see that Harold Lloyd movie at the flicks a while back, Safety Last, it was. He couldn’t stop laughing, all the way home, too, and then I thought he was over it. Nope. We were in the middle of having sex and he just snorts and starts up again! I slapped him so damned hard for thinking of a movie when he should have been concentrating on me, and he’s just there, carrying on, apologising, but still laughing!” 

“Oh my god! I wouldda made him sleep on the couch!” Greta gasped through her giggles. 

“I nearly did! I was furious!”  

They continued their laughter, Emily pouring out the last of the wine, hearing the doors open softly, lighting herself a cigarette that Greta had offered. She was hoping to turn around and see Luca, so she could speak the name Harold Lloyd and watch him fall apart, but instead saw the one face she didn’t particularly relish in seeing.  

“So,” Filomena spoke, taking a seat at the top of the table, her wine glass replaced for gin, it looked. And smelled. “How many times’a day ar-you layin’ my husband, hmm?”  

Oh, god. She was steaming. 

“He ain’t your husband anymore, Fil. And it’s rude of you to be asking Emily that,” Greta spoke, drawing her shoulders up as she turned to Emily, giving her a look of support. 

“M’just sayin’, it bhetta be ha-lot, y’know. ‘Cuz if ya don’t, he’ll h-only gho lookin’ elsewhere.” She smirked, chuckling into her glass. “He does like the whores, ahfter all.” 

Emily could feel her cheeks starting to burn, Greta fixing her with a look, mouthing “stand up for yourself!” before drawing fiercely upon her cigarette.  

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Filomena,” she sighed, calming her breathing, knowing that truly, she was the one with the upper hand. She had what the woman wanted, after all. She had him. “Listen, I’d really like us to get along, for the sake of the children. I’m going to be in Luca’s life for the foreseeable. It’s important we at least act civilly towards one another.” 

Her words were fair and delivered with quiet cool, Greta smiling proudly. Filomena was only furtherly thunderous. 

“You smug lil’ cunt,” she spat, eyeing her with displeasure as she rose to her feet, wobbling, knocking back the rest of her drink. “You ain’t shpecial, y’know. Garbage! That’s s’what y’are!” 

Emily raised her eyebrows, smiling. “And yet I’m special enough for your ex-husband to be faithful to. With how vile that mouth of yours is, I can see why he looked anywhere except you for so long.”  

Greta winced, unable to stop her nervous giggles at her friend’s sudden swell of bravery, her little show of confidence, those acidic words burning right to Filomena’s core.  

It was not taken well.  

Her grip tightened upon the empty gin glass, hurling it right at Emily’s face, who ducked with impressive speed, the vessel smashing against the side of the house. “Vile fuckin’ cunt bitch! Gimme m’husband back or I’ll fuckin’ have y’killed!”  

She lunged, stumbling, the only thing stopping her being Greta reaching to push her away, Angelo and Luca appearing.  

“The fuck is goin’ on?” the latter asked, brows knitting.  

“She’s just thrown a glass at Emily, and a barrage of abuse,” Greta spoke, pushing Filomena, her hand retreating when the feral woman scratched her with a yell.  

That was it. Now she’d fucked up. 

Luca strode for her, grabbing a handful of her dress and hauling her away from the table, turning her around as he pushed her back against the house, a pressed hand to her chest keeping her there. 

“Listen to me, and fuckin’ listen good,” he hissed, grasping her jaw and forcing her to give him eye contact. “Sort yourself out, you fuckin’ tragic mess of a woman. Either you get your act together, or those kids, they come and live with me full time. I ain’t trusting a messy fuckin’ drunk to take care of ‘em, and believe me, you ever, ever threaten Emily again, and your ass is out on the streets and your alimony stops dead. You understand me?”  

He could do that easily, too. The payments he gave to Filomena were not court ordered, a huge chunk coming out of his illegitimate earnings, so there was truly nothing she could do to stop him from ceasing the four hundred a week she got to take care of herself, the children, or the house still in his name. He knew that the dissolution of his marriage was mostly his fault, but this, this drunken lashing out, it was all her.  

“Fuck off.” she slurred, pulling herself free of his grasp as she waved her hand around “Fuck all’a youse!” Off she staggered into the house, Greta saying she’d go fetch a broom to deal with the glass, Emily walking to Luca and pulling him into a hug.  

“I'm sorry, honey. That was mostly my fault, I shouldn’t have gotten sassy with her but in my defence, I was pissed off with her mouth,” she spoke, sighing, feeling his arms tighten around her before he let go. 

“Ain’t nothin’ you could have said that warranted her throwin’ a fuckin’ glass at your face, EJ. She’s the one in the wrong, not you.”  

“I know,” she lamented, rubbing his arms before moving to shift the table back, seeing Greta with a broom and newspaper in her hands emerging from the house. “I could have been a little more mature than taunting the woman that I’m the one you stuck faithful to.” 

“That ain’t immature,” he spoke, moving the chair for her, “that’s plain fact, doll.” 

“And you did start being very cordial and adultlike in the face of her childishness, my sweet,” Greta spoke, shifting past to begin sweeping the glass, Emily taking the paper from under her arm and bending to carefully begin placing the larger shards onto it. “Telling her that you really wanted for you both to be cordial at the very least for the sake of the children. That’s probably what lit her fuse, to be honest. She knows you’re the bigger woman, as well as the one her husband is doing more damned laying with than a lino company.”  

Luca couldn’t help but laugh at that, and when it was just them again back in their bedroom, he made sure to lay her very, very thoroughly.  

“When you said you’d take the kids off of her, if she didn’t get herself sorted, how would that happen?” Emily asked, lying with her leg rested over his hips, Luca’s hand drawing idle swirls across her soft skin. “We don���t have the room in the apartment. It’d be difficult with school as well, since Manhattan is an almost an hour’s drive away.” 

“Not if we moved to the city,” he replied, turning to look at her. “We need a proper place to live instead of an apartment above a gin joint. I want the kids to spend more time with me, you too, and then there’s the matter of our own kids as well.” He reached for her stomach, stroking it with a smile. “Can’t wait to see this belly all rounded with my baby.” 

Her eyes widened a little. He wanted her to have his babies? “Really? You want kids with me?” 

Chuckling softly, he leaned to kiss her. “I’m only surprised it hasn’t happened already, cara mia. We ain’t exactly been careful.”  

True, they hadn’t. Emily had considered wearing a cap to prevent such, but never gotten around to it, and for Luca, wearing a French Letter was a completely unheard of concept, unless he was with a whore who insisted. There was nobody more surprised than him that he hadn’t contracted a rampant case of the syph because of it, either. “Sounds like you’ve been giving it some serious thought, my man.” 

“I have,” he confessed, his smile broadening. “Saw a six-bedroom apartment listed on Fifth Avenue. It’s huge, and exactly what we need. Especially if my current kids come and live with us, too.” He looked a little pensive then, mouth down turning, forehead creasing. “I hope that don’t happen. Not ‘cuz I don’t want my kids with me if that’s the best for ‘em, but because it’d mean their mother turned out to be a no-good drunk. No child should have to suffer what you did.” 

Suffer she had because of Bertha, cleaning up her puke, fixing the house up, making sure she ate, checking her in the night to ensure she was still breathing. It had been a huge burden upon Emily in her tender years, and of course, she’d revealed all of it to Luca.  

“I hope it doesn’t either, for their sake, and Filomena’s.” She certainly had more charity in her heart there than Luca did, who didn’t much give a damn for his ex-wife's welfare, providing it didn’t end up hurting his children. It was nothing short of rapid, just how much he could freeze towards somebody who had tipped his temper. “But back to the apartment. An apartment on Fifth,” she spoke, her eyes widening. “Wow!” 

Seeing that excited face truly was what he lived for. “Like the sound of that, huh?” 

“Yes!” she squeaked, biting her lip. “But you’re turning me into such a spoiled princess!” 

He tightened his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. “You don’t act like one. Plus, you deserve it. Your life was all kinds of hell before you literally fell into mine.” Another kiss was pressed to her head, Luca saying a silent prayer of gratitude to god for sending him the young woman lying in his arms. Simple, uncomplicated, unpretentious and with the kindest heart he’d ever met. “Manhattan will suit ya, too. I get that you’ll probably miss your loud-mouthed buddy, but the plus side is Greta is literally just around the corner. It’s a ten-minute walk from East seventy-third.” 

She hadn’t considered that. Indeed, she would miss seeing Maggie with quite the regularity that she did, but having Greta ten minutes away would definitely make up for that. How on earth was this her life? Thankful was simply not the word. As it happened, she had much more to be thankful for, too, awaking the following morning to a Filomena-free house.  

“She left in the early hours with the children, sir,” Catherine explained, looking a little fidgety, like Luca might blaze at her for allowing her departure. “Said that we should come back in our own time when the rest of you return.”  

Emily couldn’t stop the laughter that came at seeing Greta begin to gently run a circle behind the housekeeper, arms held aloft in triumph. “The beast retreats!” she exclaimed, looking relieved that they’d get to spend their last day there with a modicum of peace restored.  

Once they did arrive back in Brooklyn, things very much shifted up a gear, Luca arranging for a viewing of the apartment on Fifth within days of their return, enjoying every second of seeing Emily walking around it with her mouth hanging open.  

“I think your wife is quite impressed, Mr. Changretta,” the realtor noted, nodding his head towards a completely spellbound Emily.  

He smiled widely, entertained by her cry of “it goes all the way back here!” at opening a door and continuing through on her wide-eyed tour. “Yeah, I think she is, too.” Wife. Hmm. He didn’t bother to correct Mr. Abraham there, but he did make a mental note about doing something to change that. “We’ll take it. Cash okay?”  

Yes. It most definitely was.  

With the owners very much invested in a quick sale, it was a mere eight weeks until the former Brooklyn residents made their way to Manhattan, a fleet of trucks parking up outside the building, new furniture being brought in, Luca only staying a short while to pay the men before he kissed his beloved goodbye and headed out to attend to business, Angelo, Donny and Enzo waiting for him downstairs in the Rolls.  

That left Emily with the very capable help of Greta and Maggie, who thrived in assisting in telling the moving guys just where to put everything.  

“Good job the last folks had taste, dolly,” the former chimed, looking all around at the mostly white painted walls. “Ours was vile when we moved. Pistachio green, I tell ya!”  

Emily laughed at her gagging, advising the guys to place her desk down by the window in the next room over, which would become her office to get her bookkeeping endeavours done in. “Well, it wasn’t in some rooms, but we had them redecorated prior to us moving. Let me show you our bedroom, it’s gorgeous!”  

Her friends followed her through the excitement, heading all the way to the other end of the hall, Maggie remarking they’d get there quicker on roller skates and to perhaps look into it as Emily swung the double doors open. All of the furniture had been brought in prior to their arrival, everything set up apart from the packing cases containing their clothes and shoes. “Ta-da!” 

“Emily! Holy shit, this is swanky!” Maggie chimed, her mouth falling open. Swanky, in truth, was putting it mildly, the women viewing it in wonder as they carefully negotiated their way around. Deep red walls contrasted with beige, and panels of wallpaper depicting floral motifs on black. Well, until they looked closer to see that they had actually been painted on.  

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she sighed, her hand finding the velvet canopy of the four-poster bed, smoothing the tied back burgundy fabric around the huge, ornate bed. “It’s half art deco chic, half vampire lair. We kind of met in the middle there.” 

“No prizes for guessing whose half is whose,” Greta chirped, loving the feeling of the sudden contrast of the beige, soft fur rug upon her feet after stepping to it from the dark stained floorboards. “I want to live on this rug! Angelo can up his game, I want this, too!” 

“Darling, you talk like your place isn’t just as opulent,” Emily spoke, picturing Greta’s beautiful abode.  

“Can one of you gals just go ahead an adopt me?” Maggie then chirped, pointing up to the gold mouldings upon the ceiling with an open mouth. They shared laughter, moving to the other rooms, the boy’s furnished in various shades of blue, and peach for Milania, as per her request. To her father, not Emily.  

“So, the kid still hates you, then?” Maggie asked as they headed to the kitchen, ready to unpack the next most important room.  

She paused before taking a screwdriver to the case screws, shaking her head. “She’s so heavily under the influence of her mother, still. I exist in her father’s life, ergo I’m the reason why her parents haven’t gotten back together. At least Filomena seems to be keeping her drinking under control, though. That or she’s hiding it better, but Milania has been keeping her dad abreast and apparently, there’s been no day drinking since they got back from the Catskills.”  

Maggie reached for her, giving her shoulder a supportive squeeze. “The not bein’ outta her head thing is somethin’ at least, darl. Milania’ll come round eventually, too.”  

Emily could only hope, but in the meantime had much more pressing matters to deal with than her boyfriend’s daughter showing her continued contempt. Once her friends had left, she continued with the unpacking, not having much left to do at all. With a chicken and vegetables roasting in the oven, she poured herself a glass of white wine, walking through her beautiful new home to go and look out at the breathtaking view of Central Park from the lounge windows.  

“How the hell did I get this lucky?” she pondered, shaking her head as she unclipped the pearls from her ears, giving the slightly aching lobes a little rub.  

“Ya fell over in front of the right wiseguy.” 

She all but jumped out of her skin. “Oh god, Luca! I didn’t hear you come in!”  

He laughed, unfastening his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves. “Can’t believe you got all of this done in a day, and I smell dinner cooking, too.” He slid his arms around her from behind, moving her hair to kiss the side of her neck. “Should be me askin’ how the hell I got so lucky.”  

“I think we should call it a draw.”  

He kissed her neck again, the floral bouquet upon her skin making his senses tingle. “Best deal I’ve agreed on all day, doll.”  

Well, there was another one that probably topped it, but it could remain in his pocket for that moment. 

[zoros-fourth-sword]

Scarlett- Chapter Three

Summary: Portgas D. Scarlett  Ace's older sister, decides to join Trafalgar Law's crew as their navigator after her brother's death. At first, she is distant and consumed with grief over her loss, but as she spends more time with Law and his crew, she begins to find comfort in their shared experiences.

As they journey together through the Grand Line, Law, and Scarlett must face off against dangerous foes and navigate the treacherous waters of the New World. Along the way, they grow closer, and Scarlett begins to see Law in a new light.

But their love is not without its challenges, as Law is still haunted by his past and the events that led him to become a pirate. Scarlett must confront her feelings of guilt and loss over her brother's death if she wants to move forward with Law.

WC: 1.6k

Taglist: @3v37773 @sukunas-play-thing

WARNINGS: depression, grief, mention of death

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Chapter Three: Traffy Laffy

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Today was already a shit fucking day I had zero energy to get up let alone use the bathroom I have been so stuck in my mind thinking about the one hundred different things that I could have done to prevent my little brother's death and it sucked how I desperately wanna live with Dadan aging the troll looking woman actually stole a piece of my heart she did help me keep the boys calm ( more like I helped her). Someone had to be the adult out of the four siblings and of course, it had to be me. The boys weren’t even smart enough to cook in the house; they would probably burn it down in less than 5 seconds.

Imagining the memories I shared with the ASL brothers broke my heart and knowing I couldn't change the past or the future hurt me even more. I'm going to have to accept that Ace is dead, and I'm not quite ready for that. I want to stay in my own little world, where I can see my brothers happy again. I don't want to accept that Luffy and I are missing two people that we may never see again it was a hard pill for me to swallow

“Knock knock can I come in” someone said from behind my door the voice sounding like a females

“Y -yea,” I say clearing my throat as I lean up

“Hi I just wanted to check on you,” the girl said as she entered my room taking a seat at the foot of my bed

“Thank you,” I say giving the girl a weak smile

“I heard what happened and I’m really sorry,” the girl said as she grabbed my hand giving it a light squeeze

“It’s okay I’ll be fine” I softly chuckled not wanting to worry the poor girl she seemed genuinely concerned

“That was a pathetic attempt at masking your emotions” the girl laughed catching me off guard

“I’m sorry I just don’t want anyone to worry about me I’m not the type that likes the attention,” I say as I lean against my headboard

“I understand and that’s completely okay but that won’t stop me from caring you are part of our crew after all so I’m going to treat you like everyone else,” the girl said as she gave me a gentle smile causing it to warm my heart

“Thank you,” I say my voice slightly cracking as I try to fight back tears

“Have you eaten anything?” the girl asked

“No I just haven’t had the stomach for it” I mumble

“Well then I’m going to make you something to eat” the girl happily said as she got up off my bed leaving the room in a flash

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“Miss Scarlett your food is ready,” Bepo said loudly causing me to wake up from my nap

“I don’t want to leave the room can’t she bring it here” I mumble as I hide myself under my blankets

“Nope we can’t have you being in a slump for the rest of your life,” the Minc said as he pulled the blankets off me causing me to bend my body into a fetal position

“But it’s so cold,” I say trying to make up more excuses to not leave my room

“No need to worry about that I’ll keep you warm,” Bepo said as he carefully picked me up to cradle me against his fury chest

“Hey this actually isn’t so bad” I weakly mumbled against the polar bear trying to fight my sleepiness

“See everything is under control,” Bepo said as he left my room leading us to the dining room/kitchen

“From now on I’m your new best friend,” the polar bear said as he squeezed me tighter

“Fine by me as long as I get to cuddle you when I’m cold” I softly chuckled

“Fine by me Captain does it all the time,” Bepo said

“Wait really grumpy pants is a cuddly person” I asked shocked not being able to see the grumpy man all cuddled up with a giant polar bear

“Yep he might seem like a jerk but behind all that he’s just a normal person that does normal people things (sometimes)” the bear said

“Oh” I mumbled kinda feeling bad about judging the man that kindly took me in

“No hard feelings Scarlett I completely understand believe it or not that was everyone’s first impression we thought he was some grouch but turns out he’s the opposite” Bepo laughed as we entered the kitchen to be greeted by everyone but the captain

“About time you leave your room you vampire,” the guy with the penguin hat said as he sat next to Shachi

“Shut it Penguin before you regret it,” the girl said as she harshly glared at the man

“Yes ma’am I’m sorry ikkaku” Penguin flinched from her harsh tone

“Good,” the woman said that goes by the name Ikkaku

“Anyway I’m glad you agreed to leave your room” Ikkaku smiled at me

“I didn’t agree I was kinda forced to” I weakly chuckle as Bepo placed me on the ground

“Fine by me as long as you get some food in your stomach,” Ikkaku said as she slid a plate of food across the counter for me to grab

“Thank you” I smile as I take the plate of food

“Do you wanna eat with me?” Bepo asked from behind me

“Of course Bepo how could I say no” I slightly smile seeing that it made the polar bear happy

“I wonder how the captains going to feel about Scar taking his first mate” Shachi chuckles

“I think it’s nice to see Bepo hanging out with someone other than the captain,” Ikkaku said as she slid the boys their plates

“Can you all stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Bepo said as we awkwardly stood next to them

“Right my bad guys” Shachi laughed

“Come guys let’s eat up ikkaku didn’t make this delicious food for no reason,” Penguin said as he rubbed his hands together slightly licking his lips

“Eat up Scarlett I won’t eat until you eat,” Ikkaku said as she crossed her arms stubbornly

“I will don’t worry” I laugh taking a bite out of the food

“Oh wow ikkaku this is great” I hum as I take another bite of her food

“Why to thank you Scar I’m glad you like it,” the girl said as she gave me a smile

“I’m glad to see you happy Scarlett” Bepo said as placed one of his paws on top of my head

“Thanks for everything guys I needed this,” I say as my voice begins to crack as I fight back tears

“Of course Scar that’s what crewmates are for,” Ikkaku said

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I’m currently standing outside on the deck of the Polar Tang after being locked up in a small space for hours I decided to give my lungs some fresh air

“Aren’t you supposed to be in your room moping” I hear a voice approach me seeing that it was my captain

“Trust me I would rather be doing that but Ikakku said she would kill me if I went back to bed” I laugh as I rest my chin in the palm of my hand leaning up against the railing

“Mhm” Law hummed as he stood next to me with his arms crossed over his chest

“I just want to make one thing clear Scarlett if you hurt any of my crew members mentally or physically I’ll make sure you regret it” Law grumbled as he leaned his back against the ship’s railing

“What's your deal with the threats you act like it’s supposed to scare me” I mumble into my palm slightly getting irritated with the man

“It’s not a threat if you mean it,” Law said as he looked me up and down

“Yea yea you don’t have to worry Traffy Laffy I wouldn’t dream of hurting them” I huff as I turn my full attention towards him

“Whether you like it or not we are eventually going to have to trust each other,” I say as I cross my arms over my chest

“You don’t think I know that” Law huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration

“Look I’m sorry that I kinda showed up unexpectedly and that old man Ray kind guilt triped you into letting me join your crew,” I say

“I really appreciate this Law I’m not really good at showing my appreciation but I’ll try my hardest to prove it,” I say looking the man in the eyes letting him know I was completely serious

“It’s fine no need for formality” Law huffed

“Get some shut-eye we have a big day tomorrow,” Law said as he began to walk away

“Oh and don’t ever call me Traffy Laffy again,” Law said as he came to a complete stop

“Yes sir Traffy Laffy” I mumbled under my breath

“I heard that” Law yelled back towards me as he walked away causing me to let out a giggle

Maybe Trafalgar Law isn’t that bad of a guy.

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I hope everyone enjoyed I’m sorry if my writing is horrible I’m trying to make this readable as possible 😭

{A/N look at this man y’all these fan-arts are to die for I swear ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) }