#H P Concrete

[afu-uasi-hp-contractors]

Safeguarding Dreams: Combating Contractor Fraud in the Heart of Our Communities

In recent years, an alarming trend has emerged across various communities, casting a long shadow over the dreams of countless homeowners. At the center of this disturbing narrative is a figure like Afu Usai, a contractor whose fraudulent activities have not only shattered personal dreams but also exposed systemic vulnerabilities within the home renovation industry. This article seeks to peel back the layers of contractor fraud, using the case of Afu Usai as a cautionary tale, and to offer vital strategies for homeowners to protect themselves from falling victim to similar scams.

The Anatomy of Contractor Fraud

The story of Afu Usai, a contractor operating under multiple fake company names such as MA Concrete, HP Concrete, and HP Contractors, has become a textbook example of contractor fraud. By presenting himself as a reputable professional, Usai was able to secure contracts with homeowners, promising to bring their renovation dreams to life. Instead, after collecting substantial upfront payments, he vanished, leaving behind unfinished projects and financial ruin.

The Ripple Effect of Fraud

The consequences of such scams extend far beyond the unfinished projects and lost funds. They erode trust within the community, leaving homeowners wary of engaging with legitimate professionals and stunting the growth of genuine businesses. Moreover, the emotional toll on families and individuals, particularly those who have invested significant portions of their life savings, can be devastating.

Strategies for Homeowner Vigilance

In the wake of these scams, it's crucial for homeowners to adopt a proactive stance to protect their investments and dreams. Here are essential strategies to consider:

Thorough Research: Before hiring a contractor, conduct extensive research. Check for licenses, insurance, and a solid track record of completed projects.

Seek Recommendations: Word of mouth remains a powerful tool. Seek recommendations from friends, family, or reputable trade associations.

Detailed Contracts: Insist on a detailed contract that outlines the scope of work, materials to be used, timelines, and payment schedules. This document should be your roadmap and protection.

Avoid Large Upfront Payments: Be wary of contractors who demand large upfront payments. A staggered payment plan tied to project milestones is a safer approach.

Regular Communication: Maintain open lines of communication with your contractor. Regular updates can provide reassurance and help spot potential issues early.

The Role of Community and Regulation

Beyond individual vigilance, there's a pressing need for stronger regulatory frameworks and community support systems. Local governments and industry associations can play a pivotal role in vetting contractors and providing resources for homeowners. Community forums and online platforms can also serve as valuable spaces for sharing experiences and advice, helping to foster a culture of transparency and accountability.

Conclusion: Rebuilding Trust Together

The aftermath of contractor fraud, exemplified by the actions of Afu Usai, serves as a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities homeowners face. Yet, it also highlights an opportunity for communities to come together, advocating for change and implementing safeguards to protect the dreams of future homeowners. By embracing vigilance, education, and collective action, we can begin to rebuild the trust that is so crucial to the fabric of our communities, ensuring that the home renovation process is a journey of transformation and joy, not one of loss and betrayal.

[gabriellerudessa]

My brain went like "watercolor inspired by Goodnight Fair Lady from Coheed & Cambria" but it only gave me The Vibes so I'm all like "what the heck do I paint??" 🤡🤡🤡

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {1}

Summary: On the outside it appeared you had the perfect life but Charles didn't know the secrets that had been kept from him. In order for him to succeed deals were made with your family and no price was too much to pay. Warnings: nsfw, swearing, fighting, mentions of character death, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, horrible parents, Arthur Leclerc being the best friend ever WC: 2.5k

One || Two || Three

“What have you got yourself into now?”

There was no simple answer to that question and it was the very reason you had specifically not called the man waiting for an answer in the corridor. You dragged your eyes away from the chipped grey walls of the cell and stopped reading the tagging that littered the bricks - you didn’t really care that P & H were 2getha 4eva - and sat up from the concrete bed you had attempted to sleep on. 

Stretching your tired muscles, you ignored his question and asked one of your own. “What are you doing here, Charles?”

“Arthur called.” Charles grabbed the bars that separated you, his knuckles turning white as he scanned the other vagrants you had been locked in with. “Did you have to get him involved?”

“What makes you think it was my idea?” It was your idea, but it was rude of him to assume so. 

“My brother wouldn’t know how to find an underground fight club, let alone join one.”

“Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think.”

“Maybe, but I know you.” He looked at your cheeks that were still shiny from the Vaseline that helped the blows glance off, then he looked at your busted knuckles that not even tape could stop from splitting. “Why?”

You shrugged, but it tweaked your shoulder that had taken quite the punch and you winced at the spike of pain. “For a bit of fun, let off some steam.”

“Yeah, you look like you are really enjoying yourself,” he muttered sarcastically before walking away.

“Wait, Charles, where are you going?”

“Home, it’s late and Arthur is waiting in the car.”

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You didn’t call me,” he stated coldly. “Bail yourself out this time.”

Your clenched fist hit the metal bar and he briefly paused as the ringing sound followed him down the hall. “Dammit, Charles. Please?”

He continued walking away and you dropped back onto the hard slab of concrete wondering why you bothered. Charles never cared for you and the friendship you had with his younger brother, in fact merely breathing around him seemed to be an offence. It had been that way ever since your family sponsored his career, it was like he resented you for your family’s money. 

“Y/L/N,” a burly bailiff called out, interrupting your ranting inner monologue. “You’ve been posted.” 

A frown pinched your brows together as the door opened and you saw Charles standing in the shadows behind the officer. “Now would be the time for a thank you,” he muttered. 

You were tempted to throw a ‘fuck off’ his way but bit your tongue and accepted the thick hoodie he had draped over his arm. While the sex workers you had shared a cell with wore just as little clothing, yours was for an entirely different reason. The sports bra and bike shorts were perfect for fighting in but left you cold in the early hours of the morning, so you quickly pulled the hoodie over your body. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want your money,” he sighed, rubbing his temple and leaving you with the impression that you were the headache he had.

“That’s not what you said to my father 10 years ago.”

“Is it too late to lock her back up?”

The bailiff looked awkwardly between the two of you and if you were in Monaco the officer would have probably marched you back to the cell, but Charles was in Nice now, he was in your city. 

You quickly signed the release form for your belongings and slipped the family signet ring back onto your finger before turning your phone on. A flood of messages from your father, his assistant and his lawyer, appeared in the flurry of vibrations that made Charles scoff and shake his head. “Worried about his little princess, huh?”

It was your turn to scoff. If only he knew how utterly wrong he was, but you weren’t one to air the dirty laundry of your family - even if it would shut the pretentious twat up for one minute. “Same time next week, boys,” you said with a nod to the officers behind the Perspex wall. 

“You’re seriously messed up,” Charles commented as he followed your quick descent down the front steps and aimed for the dark blue Porsche. 

“Keep sweet talking, you flirt,” you shot back sarcastically. “I thought you had a girlfriend.” 

Arthur had opened his door the moment he spotted you and he knew from the pained look on his brother’s face, and the smile on yours, that the interaction had gone as well as expected. He couldn’t understand why two people he loved dearly had to fight like cats and dogs every time they were in the same room. He had tried to get you to talk to Charles, to tell him the truth about your situation, but it had been hard enough talking to Arthur about it and you trusted him with your life. You weren’t going to go through that again for someone that would be more likely to spit in your face. 

“How’s your nose?” Arthur asked as he gently cupped your face and inspected it.

“Relax, I already reset it.” You took comfort in the warmth of his palms but the fuzzy feeling that came with knowing someone in the world cared about your wellbeing was gone in an instant.

“Daddy can always buy you a new one.”

“Charles!”

“Forget about it, Tur,” you murmured as you stepped back and started to make your way home on foot. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“If you care about him you will leave him alone,” Charles called out as he opened the driver's door. “You’re just going to drag him down with you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur growled at his brother before he started to follow you down the street. “Wait, please.”

“You should listen to your brother,” you said over your shoulder. “I’m a sinking ship.”

Arthur’s footsteps quickened as he jogged to your side and pulled you to a stop. “You’re not a sinking ship, but if you are then I will be your lifeboat.”

“That’s stupid analogy,” you scoffed as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you arrested.”

“I could have run when they raided but what kind of best friend would that make me?”

“One with a clean record,” you pointed out, feeling his chest bounce with a silent laugh.

“It’s overrated. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo now, one to remember my incarceration by. Maybe a tear, just here,” he said as he touched his cheek. “Think it would make me look cool.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Oh yeah, the ladies would love that.”

“Please don’t give my brother any more bad ideas,” Charles muttered as he rolled by slowly in his car with the window down. “Get in, both of you.”

Arthur opened the door and pulled you down with him, tugging you into place on his lap before you could escape. He wasn’t going to let you walk home at 3am, no matter how safe Nice was, but it was annoying that his brother only bought a two seater sports car when he knew that the two of you had been arrested. 

You guided Charles away from the waterfront mansions and into the industrial area that was abandoned at the late hour. Arthur had been to your place plenty of times but it was a first for Charles to see the concrete building with a chipped tile roof at the end of the rundown street.

“What are we doing here?” Charles asked as he parked in front of a rusted metal door.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, kissing Arthur’s cheek before opening the door. 

“What is this place?” Charles asked again as he followed you out, frowning at the key to the door you found under a shattered pot plant.

“I can’t exactly go home like this, can I? Genius.”

Arthur’s door shut as he got out to referee the second round of verbal sparring for the evening.  

“I’m surprised they even let you home after the crap you put them through.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still useful to them so they can’t get rid of me yet. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“It must be so hard living your perfect little life,” Charles drawled sarcastically and Arthur inhaled sharply at the insult.

“You think my life is perfect?” You laughed bitterly and Arthur looked down at his feet. “Do you know why I fight in that shitty underground cage? The only freedom I have is when I get in that ring. It is the only choice I get to make for myself. For five minutes, I am in control of my own life, Charles, I get to fight for myself.”

“In control? You have always done and gotten everything you wanted,” he argued. “You wanted a pony, you got a fucking pony.”

Your vision narrowed as anger exploded in your chest. “There was a price, you fucking idiot! I am paying that price now. You don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life planned out for you, to find out those gifts came with terms and conditions, so do me a favour and shut the fuck up for once in your life please.”

Charles took a step closer but Arthur placed himself between you, his palms pushing his brother back as your breath quickened to uncontrollable pants. “You don’t understand, just let it go.”

“Damn right I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you listen to her bullshit, Tur. Jules couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her, and I can’t either.”

The whomping of blood rushing around your head echoed in your ears as time slowed and Arthur’s arm pulled back. You watched him close his fist like you had taught him, keeping his thumb on the outside to avoid breaking it. You watched the veins on his hand grow thicker as he threw the punch at his own brother and the shock barely registered before Charles fell down on his ass.

“Jules couldn’t be in the same room with her because he knew the truth and he felt guilty!” Arthur screamed down at his brother. “You were too young to understand then, but we aren’t kids anymore.”

Charles broke free of his state of shock and scrambled to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “What truth? Huh? Is it worth ruining our brotherhood?”

“Jules was engaged.”

“Bullshit.” Charles shook his head violently and you sank to the ground, leaning back against the cold bricks for the second time that night. “He would have told me.”

“Ask Enzo.” Arthur knew Charles would believe him. Lorenzo was Jules’ best friend, it was why Charles met Jules in the first place. Jules already had ties to your family and he used them to broker the deal that funded Charles’ career. 

“Okay, so what if he was engaged?” Charles snapped as his agitation grew. He was suddenly questioning everything he knew about his godfather and it showed on his shaking hands.

“Because he was engaged to me,” you whispered, a shadow falling across your face as Arthur crouched down beside you and wiped away the tears you hadn’t even felt fall. You couldn’t tell if they were tears of anger or sadness, the two seemed to blur when it came to Jules. He was always there, even in your earliest memories. He was like an older brother to you, he even taught you to ride your bike without trainer wheels. He was always there, until he wasn’t. 

Charles was right, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you once the deal was made. You couldn’t blame him for that. 

“No, no fucking way,” Charles laughed, raking a hand through his hair. “Arthur, are you listening to this shit?”

“I’ve seen the contract, Cha.”

“You’ve always been gullible but this is actually stupid. She was 16. Jules wouldn’t have married a girl. He was 25 for fucks sake.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” you admitted quietly. “It was the price for the deal he made, and you are right, Jules was too noble for that. It took a lot of convincing on his part to wait until I turned 21. My father resented that fact, I think he was hoping to sell me off to someone sooner.”

Charles stumbled back to the hood of his car, watching as Arthur took a seat beside you and draped his arm protectively over your shoulders. The brothers stared at each other but you stared at the gravel between your legs while the truth lingered in the air. 

You could feel the pieces connecting in Charles’ head as if they were being screamed aloud and you flinched at the moment they all came together. Arthur’s arm tightened, Charles' throat bobbed and nausea roiled in your stomach.

“It was me,” Charles choked. “Wasn’t it?”

You didn’t bother looking up as you nodded. “My father never cared about your career. He wanted a union with the Bianchi family and he finally got the opportunity when Jules asked to sponsor you.”

“Why the hell would he agree to that?”

“Because he believed in you, obviously, and I like to think that maybe he thought he could get out of the agreement before I turned 21.” You shrugged because you would never know the complete truth now. It made you sick to think that maybe he did find a way out of it, in the worst way possible.

“Your father…”

“Is a real asshole? Yeah, I know.”

“I was going to say sick bastard.” 

You chuckled in agreement and tipped your head back. “Perfect life, am I right?”

Charles had the decency to winch at the reminder. “You’re an adult now, why don’t you leave?”

“I wish it were that easy. All my bank accounts are under his control. They didn’t let me go to college. I don’t know anyone that isn’t indebted or loyal to him,” you sighed. “I got this place with my fight winnings. It’s not much but it’s mine, at least until he arranges another marriage for me, then I suppose the poor bastard gets it too.”

“Marry me.”

You barked a laugh and looked at Arthur, his lips still parted like they were shocked the words had passed by. “Now you are being stupid. I love you, Tur, and that is precisely why I wouldn’t wish this shit on you.”

“Then marry me,” Charles offered. “You hate me already, and I owe Jules everything. You can come to Monaco and study, or get a job, or whatever you want to do.”

“No, thank you,” you said as you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door. “Drive safe.”

“I’m serious,” Charles growled as caught the door before it closed. “I am offering you a lifeline, why won’t you take it?”

“My father taught me many important life lessons but the first one was if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Good night, Charles.”

Part Two

[falling-heights]

Yandere Geto x Non-sorcerer

" A r e y o u p r a y i n g a g a i n ?

H o w r a w a r e y o u r k n e e s ?

H o w o f t e n w i l l y o u r e p e n t ? "

Part 1 ▪︎ Part 2

Shackles jingled like bells on the cold stone.

Muscles trembling, the dampness of the strange, dark room clung to your skin, sticking to your hair like freshly formed dew. The rocky surface tore into your knees, ripping open the thin layers of skin. You would expect soon, if not now, the gravel floor beneath your knees would soon find itself grinding bone.

How long must it take for your body to reach that state? Months surely, maybe more. This new life, this awful life. Played upon the whims of a cruel, beautiful man.

This was absolution he said, but not your salvation. A necessity for the fact of your existence-- for your vile existence. For the sin of having been born on the wrong side of his war.

He paced around you in circles, slowly closing in on his prey. A belt slung in his hands. Occasionally the metal buckle would graze the floor, emitting an awful grating sound, more or less reminding you of what was eminent.

Hours at a time, a glorious part every day, he would come to visit, and he would force you to commit exhausting acts. The kind meant to wear at more than a person's body. In the end, he was never satisfied until you were like a weak, wounded animal.

You deserved death as much any other human, perhaps more than most. Yet for the strangest reasons, he kept you breathing, fed, alive.

If not for this man's bitter entertainment, then certainly to act as penance for you and your pathetic race.

You had been kneeling in the grit and gravel for hours now. Praying, god knows what for anymore. Your deliverance; your demise. Every muscle in your legs trembled involuntarily. They felt like nothing, like weightless twigs that burned like white-hot rods.

Your body gave out quicker tonight than most, and his hand was as swift as you had come to know. The belt swung down upon your bent back, and you cried out as the metal clasp bit into your skin, slitting it open into shallow gashes. A seething hiss escaped your grit teeth as handfuls of gravel and dirt dug into your palms. The new blood seeped into seven more fresh lashes, coating trails of coagulated blood.

It was righteous.

It was befitting.

And you deserved it just as much as any other human, but perhaps more than most. His eyes said so much more cruelty than his actions, as though it were you he hated so dearly, as though it could have only ever been you. His punishments felt personal, and in his eyes, deserved.

You were temptation incarnate, a foul reminder of his noble efforts. Kept like a token, something hated and yet sought. Something evil and yet beautiful.

He wanted done to you what he had seen done to his kind. And how little it mattered that you knew nothing of your crimes. Your ignorance could not help you.

"My, my," His voice was elevated, a gentle chord that echoed in the dim room. It mocked you with sugary sweetness. "Has the camel's back finally broken? Is this all the strength you can muster?"

He stooped down in front of your collapsed figure. A curled finger lifted your chin up gently. He tilted his head to the side as you grimaced under his scrutiny. He sighed, finally, releasing your chin and standing.

"I've grown tired of this, lately." The belt dropped to the ground with a loud thud. You tried to steady yourself and sit up, but any direction that you moved had you reeling in pain. It was like the skin your was being ripped from flesh and bone.

Confusion surfaced when he stooped to unlock your shackles. They were discarded to the side loudly, rattling your concrete cage. Visible lesions were present on both wrists, cutting deep into the raw tissue.

He paused for a moment, looking off at the wall in thought. For those

long winded seconds, as your vision wavered between black and white, it seemed as though he was miles away from that horrid, festering room.

"Do you have any idea why I do this to you, come dusk until dawn?" His voice was distant, quiet even. Though he was always quiet, this was distinctively different from what, you had come to know. No snide remarks, no slightly patronizing tone in the way he lectured you.

He looked to you then for a moment, dark eyes connecting with yours. They seemed tired, exhausted even. "I can imagine a singular question that must be racing through your mind at every waking moment."

Geto, as you had come to know him, stepped towards you, seemingly breaking out of his stupor. His eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement. His foot came in contact with your shoulder, shoving you onto your back.

You cried out as stones cut into your raw flesh. His foot pressed down more harsh, to the point you thought your shoulder might pop out of it's socket. He smiled down at you, at your helplessness.

Somehow, there were always moments that seemed innocent in the wake of everything else. Nights in which he would stumble into your dark, damp dungeon unbelievably drunk. Mind too far gone to remember what you really were. He would stumble, he would crawl, he would worship you like a goddess.

In a strange way, it almost felt like he cared for you in a desperate sort of way. Nights like this were like an open view into an entirely new person. This man, in a drunken, sickly state, would almost coddle you. There were night he would come and act as though the two of you were a married couple. Other times, he might be possessive, babbling somewhat incoherently. About things you never understood but knew had everything to do with you.

He was sweet then. And you felt a fool for almost hoping for it. Hoping for a sense of something familiar, something comforting. Something that didn't break your skin or bones and leave you marred with scars.

This was not one of those nights.

A sigh of relief passed your cracked lips when he finally lifted his foot. However, the weight was multiplied tenfold when he straddled your waist.

Your breath caught in your throat, panic overweighing any sort of pain as adrenaline began surging in your veins. He quickly put an end to your struggles, pinning your arms down.

"Why don't you enlighten us both with that question?" His eyes fixed on your other features, wrapping a loose strand of hair around his fingers, almost absentmindedly. It took you longer to process his question than he liked because he ceased his toying with your hair to grab your face firmly, scrunching your cheeks together. "Do you need a hint, dearest? Let me start it for you: 'Why...?'"

"Why me?" You whispered. He smiled proudly, releasing your face to caress your jaw with his thumb. It took what little of what was left of your will to keep a steady voice. But you could not stop the tears from collecting in your eyes. You asked him again through blurry vision. "Why did you choose me?"

Your body froze when you looked into his eyes. Dark and calm, like two black stones in dead, unmoving water. And yet, within their vacant depths sparked a tidal wave of emotion. Hatred was the most obvious.

But beneath it, there was something more volatile. If you had been any more of a fool, you would have thought it to be an innate, almost wild passion, a kind that you were not familiar with.

As his face inched closer to yours, it seemed as though his intentions

transformed from violent to something you feared far more.

He suddenly stopped. Something shifted in his eyes, as though remembering something. His face soured in response, nose wrinkling slightly as he pulled away slowly.

"Perhaps it would be a kind mercy to just kill you." He lifted himself off of you, silently brushing himself off and readjusting his clothes.

Your heart left in your chest like a caged bird crying for freedom.

"But I have not made progress by being merciful," He said in a curt manner. Geto's eyes studied you like a dissected specimen. His eyes trailed off briefly, a sense of determination hardening his gaze. "And I believe I am close to a solution."

Solution? What the hell is he talking about?

"Forgive me for getting ahead of myself." His voice was distant, almost rehearsed. There was air of false sweetness about it, in his words and his smile. He was back to his expected self it seemed. "You haven't any idea to the truth of your situation, not at all..."

He was staring at you vacantly, more as though he were staring through you. A small chuckle left his throat and he sighed. "Well, no matter. You will know soon enough."

All he offered your pain was a smile, perfectly still and anything but comforting. There was purpose behind everything he did, and you never had so much as a hint as to what was festering within his mind.

He left you to agonize in your torment, though knowing that he would be seeing you again soon enough.

didn't really proof this, pls let me know if you see any issues! there may be a part two for this if you guys like it <3

[carionto]

Huh? Nah, this doesn't need safety gear

It is horrifying what kinds of deadly activities Humans will engage with without even a mention of safety or precaution. Most alarmingly what their offspring dare to do.

Take, for example, cycling. Already, a vehicle that is literally as minimal in features as you can get, and requires the user to provide all balance. Lacking such an advanced inner ear, operating this device is nigh impossible for two thirds of the Galaxy. But their young manage to get the hang of it very quickly, and we're told it's a skill that once you learn it, you never forget. Even after decades, their "body remembers", which adds another layer of curiosity to how Human "muscle memory" functions and retains this other form of knowledge.

Once their children learn this skill, any skill really, they tend to experiment and go as far as they can with it. One time we saw a whole group of them riding around their school's outdoor gym field at nearly 35 km/h on the straights. I and several other delegates would quite literally die if one were to crash into us. And crash they did, we were shocked and panicked, but before we could alert anyone, the child simply brushed themselves off, stretched a little, spent MORE time in fact checking if their bike was fine, and then got right back on. Seemingly zero lessons learned as they crashed two more times within the next half hour.

As we left, a group of slightly older children on somewhat smaller but tougher looking bicycles with steel protrusions from the wheels. They seemed very energetic, so we followed them at a distance to a large open concrete park with strange geometric structures all around. Before we could question the purpose of this place, the kids were flying, their bikes were screeching, and we were terrified. Jumping off ramps and these half-cylinders, doing frankly impossible feats of acrobatics.

OH MY GOD ONE OF THEM LET GO OF THE BIKE MID JUMP!!!

Oh thank god, they caught it again before landing.

Why did they spin around before doing so though?

...

Stunts?

You... willfully endanger yourselves for... "s t y l e p o i n t s"

My hearts can't take it anymore today, please take me home.

[mrcavill88]

Despondency turned rapture

Pairing: Stepdad Andy Barber x Stepson Male reader

Summary: A recent family passing took a deep toll on you. Never have you ever felt so isolated from humanity. The only thing keeping you going are the lewd activities between you and your stepfather

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: 18+, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, age gap (reader just turned 18, Andy is 42) drunk Andy, reader is a stoner, intimacy in the shower, Dom Andy, deep kissing, skin biting, stripping, spanking, fingering, prostate orgasm, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, cum control, breeding, cuddling

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for all your support lately. This is my first Steve only fic, hope you enjoy! (If you have any questions/requests, feel free to ask me in my bio;)

You're not quite sure how your life crumbled apart so easily. One moment you're frolicking in the park with your beloved mother and stepfather, then you're hyperventilating in a hospital hoping your mother's life could see another day.

*FLASHBACK 6 MONTHS*

"Mom! P-please *sniffle* please stay with me!" you pled as you tightly gripped your mothers hand, her body laying near lifeless on the hospital bed. "Sir! Why are you in the room? Your mother is in a fragile state I understand your pain but you need to exit immediately!" the frantic doctor yelled as he tried to pry you from your mother.

"Get the hell off me!" you yelled as you shoved the doctor into the concrete wall. "Mom! Mom! Answer me!" you cried as tears stained your cheeks, feeling helpless as your mother remains unresponsive.

And then it came

The longest, most heartbreaking beep you've ever heard in your whole life. The beep that signified the death of your mother. You fell to your knees as you've just accepted what reality has become, a reality without your mother.

"Y/N! What happened? Is she okay?" your stepdad Andy panicked as he rushed over to you, seeing your mother. "N-no, NO! NO!" Andy screamed as he hugged your body tightly, in grievance of your dead mother. Both of you sat on the floor, drowned in tears as you've both lost the dearest person in your lives.

The trip out of the hospital was one that wasn't that long, but for you and Andy? It was a million years. It took a host of angels to get you out of that hospital, several doctors needed to escort you out of the hospital room. That day, a part of you was never the same, you became an incomplete puzzle with a forever missing piece.

*FLASHFORWARD TO PRESENT*

You sit in your bed, still grieving your dear mothers death. A mountain of disposables piling up in the corner of the room, making the room reek of weed. A deep and scratchy exhale left your mouth as you continue to sit in your room, refusing to leave your domain. It seems like years since you've spoken to anyone,

Well, almost anyone

The only trustworthy person in your life? Your stepdad Andy. You two have always had a close relationship, you both understood each other on a level no one else (besides your mother) could. But little did each of you know, the deep feelings you both felt for each other. I mean, how could one resist Andy? His beautiful blue eyes that dilated each time he saw you, his broad figure and chiseled muscles, his structured face and sexy beard. You knew it was wrong, especially after your mothers death, but it was something out of your control.

"Y-Y/N! G-get your ass o-over h-here!" he yelled, slurring his words amid his recent alcohol addiction. You slumped off your bed and walked over to Andy's bedroom, the unpleasant aroma of alcohol filled the room as you shut the door; bottles upon bottles of beer stacked in his closet.

"Y/N, y-you better s-stop sm-smoking, i-it'll kill you. If I f-find one more goddamn c-cart in the t-trash, I-I'm whooping your ass. Understand?" he said, barely able to connect his words together. "You think y-you can talk? It smells like shit in here, I don't know how you keep all those muscles and that jawline when all you do is drink all the fucking time! Give it a fucking break already!" you yelled, right before a thick hand smacked your cheek, you held your face.

Andy grabbed your face yelling, "You speak t-to me like t-that again? I'll fucking k-kill you, understand?" squeezing your face. You nodded as tears formed and fell down your face. You ran out of Andy's room, into your room, slamming the door, staying there for what seemed like an eternity, but was only 2 days.

*FLASHFORWARD 2 DAYS LATER*

A light knock on the door awakened your seemingly endless slumber. You stood up, feeling sticky and extremely hungry, and dragged your body towards the door and opened it to a surprisingly healthy Andy, who didn't smell.

"Hey y/n, I know you probably want to talk to me but, I'm really concerned about you. You haven't left your room in ages and your mothers death (tears up) left its toll on both of us, but I know she wants us to find happiness in our lives. So please, would you come out? Maybe we could spend some time together?" he asked, caressing the cheek that he slapped the other day.

You gave him a blank expression, still feeling a little scared of Andy after what happened yesterday. "Fine". You finally walked out of your room, the sunshine blinding you as you sit down on the couch.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up. Honey, can you please take a shower?" Andy asked, his cute nickname for you leaving you a little bit surprised. You reluctantly entered the bathroom, it seems like an eternity since you last entered it. You undressed yourself and turned on the hot water, waiting for steam to accumulate before you entered. The hot water dampening your soft skin as you cleanse yourself for the first time since your mothers death. As you were washing your hair, you noticed the bathroom door slowly creaked open. The feeling of curiosity and anxiety filled you as you waited for someone to show up.

"Y/N? Can I come in?" Andy asked, as the door was still slightly ajar.

"Come in"

Andy walked in with a white tank top that perfectly illustrated his large biceps and broad shoulders, and, it got hard, and, it seemed that he realized this. He walked over to the shower and opened the door

"Hey! Get out! I need some privacy!" you yelled as you covered your private parts, slightly blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, lemme just close this" Andy said as he seductively slapped your ass, causing you to jolt and moan a little. "GET OUT!" you yelled, clearly aggravated, little did he know a little turned on as well. He left before you finished your shower, you turned off the water, dried yourself off and put on a tight little black tank top and some shorts.

You walked out and approached Andy in the living room, still a little surprised at what he did in the bathroom. "H-hey Andy, sorry I got mad at you there" you chuckled. "Oh it's all good Y/N, in the end, that was my bad. Come sit with me, the patriots are on right now" he said to you, bringing you over to the couch, sitting you next to him.

Oh God

You were feeling things you never felt before, things you shouldn't be feeling, he was your... stepdad. This was wrong, you couldn't help but feel butterflies race around your stomach, your body temperature rising as Andy got closer and more touchy with you.

"So Y/N, you like football?" he asked you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulder. You didn't answer him; you couldn't even think straight you were going crazy, sweat accumulating on your forehead.

"Y/N? Why so silent?"

"S-sorry I'm just-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you found the six foot one man hands all over you, pinning you to the couch.

"H-hey! What're you doing!" you whined out as he got closer and closer to your face. "Oh Y/N, sweet innocent Y/N, I know you like me, in fact, you love me." he said, tightening his grip on you as he was practically an inch away from your face. "N-no Andy, this is wrong! You're my stepdad! What would mom think?" "Y/N, at a certain time, you have to move on, your mother was an amazing person, she would want us to be happy right?"

You shrugged your shoulders in response before Andy's lips crashed onto yours, your tongues twisting together, fighting for dominance; you lost. "Mm baby I've been waiting years for this, you don't understand how hard I'm gonna fuck you" he huffed as he continued kissing you, moving onto your neck. "Fuck, daddy" you moaned.

"Mm, daddy huh? I like that name, you only address me as that now, understand?" You whimpered in response as Andy started biting and sucking on your neck. Moans and whines leaving your mouth as your own stepfather was leaving hickeys on your baby soft skin.

When he was finished with you, you were a moaning and whining mess, breathing in and out at a rapid pace as Andy's eyes starting filling with something, insurmountable lust. "Strip for daddy" he commanded as he put you on your knees. You slowly removed your clothing unveiling your beautiful and slim frame.

Andy stared at your angelic figure, completely awestruck by the beauty that stand before him. He grabbed onto your shoulders and started sucking on your skin again. "Mm fuck baby! You taste as good as you look, you're gonna feel so good with me inside you!"

"Mm, fuck me daddy!" you moaned as the bearded man vigorously bit and licked your skin. He grabbed your body and placed your moaning figure over his lap; you knew exactly what part was next. He squeezed and fondled your cheeks, praising them before his hands gripped them firmly.

"Count"

"o-one" *SMACK* his hand swiftly cuffed your right cheek, causing you to wince in pain, and a wee bit of pleasure.

"two" *SMACK* he smacked your left cheek with even more force, causing you to scream as a tear leaked from your eye.

Said smack became 5 smacks, then 15, then 30. At 31, your ass cheeks were tinted red and tears stained your cheeks as your stepdad had just smacked the hell out of your ass.

"Oh baby, don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you, and he thinks it's time for your reward, baby. Come on, open up"

You aversely spread your legs open, leaning up on the couch you were sitting on. Right then and there, Andy slowly inserted his thick fingers into your tight and tiny hole. He used his spit as a lubricant to make the trip nice and smooth, causing moans and whines to constantly leave your mouth.

"Daddy! Ugh! Fuck daddy! That feels so good!" you whined as his fingers went in and out of your hole.

"Oh baby I love to hear you moan, it's like music to my ears. Now, this might hurt, just sit still ok sweetie?" he kindly said as he started finger fucking you with multiple fingers. Your moans started becoming screams as the feeling of pleasure, pain, and discomfort consumed your body.

"D-daddy! I c-can't take it anymore! I'm g-gonna cum!" you whined as you could feel your cock twitch uncontrollably, completely wet with pre-cum.

"Oh no you don't" he said cupping your cock in his other hand, making you even more horny. "Daddy can't have you cumming yet, I know you can do it, be a good boy for daddy". At this point, you were practically walking on strings, shear milliseconds away from shooting your load.

Andy finally released his fingers from you, sucking on them. "Delicious. Oh baby, you're such a determined little boy, thank you for not cumming, daddy appreciates it! Now, get on your knees baby, daddy needs to unload a little". You were still a little weak from Andy finger fucking you, but you got on your knees as Andy unleashed his meat. You've been picked down by many, but nothing surmounted Andy's cock. It looked to be 8 inches long, and insanely thick. You licked his bitter tip, causing him to groan out, before you started sucking his dick.

It didn't take much before you started gagging, your drool spilling from your mouth as Andys dick invaded every corner of your mouth. "T-take it easy b-baby. Oh fuck! Baby you look so good around my dick like this!" He started to thrust into your face, you almost fell back at his aggression. The sound of moans filled the room as Andy could feel himself getting close. Noticing this, you started moaning and whining on his dick, sending vibrations up his dick. "F-fuck baby" he moaned as he shot his thick and warm cum into your mouth, filling your mouth with his baby batter.

"Oh baby you did so well! Now, it's time for the grand finale! Come on baby, face down, ass up"

You stood crawled up on the couch and did as he asked, face down, ass up, your hole still lubricated after Andy's fingers violated it. "This is a very special memory Y/N, let's make the most of it. Alright?" he softly said before he violently thrusted his cock in your hole, going in and out aggressively.

"Daddy! Ugh! I love your cock so much daddy!" you whined as his meat was invading every bit of your insides. His thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier by the second as the pleasure he felt weakened his knees.

That's when it happened

His dick thrusted into your prostate causing you to go crazy, cock twitching uncontrollably as cum shot from your cock onto the couch, practically painting a section white. "B-baby, I-I'm close, y-you're doing so well" Andy groaned as he was once again close from summing, this time inside you.

"I love you daddy!" you screamed as your legs started to wobble. At those words, Andy lost it. His cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum into your velvety walls, painting them white. You both collapsed on the couch, completely drowned in pleasure after having sex the best sex of your lives. You crawled up onto Andy's muscles, cuddling up against him.

"I love you" you said before you lightly kissed his lips

"I love you too Y/N" he huffed before you both fell asleep in each others arms

THE END

Thanks for reading:)

[sunarinscat]

(s/o with sensory overload)

“Waves”.

He was the first to notice.

You have always struggled with sensory overload. It’s noise, lights, texture, temperature, movement in your line of sight… It just builds up and you can’t help but break down. It’s embarrassing honestly. You aren’t even sad but you’re sobbing and heaving for air. What? Because some silly flashing lights were too bright for you? You hide away in a corner or a bathroom and wait for the waves of panic to wash away. Then you clean yourself up and face the world again. Nobody was ever any the wiser.

He noticed. He saw when your breath began to quicken. You stopped making eye contact with people and glued your gaze to the floor. He tipped his head to the side as your trembling hands grasped the nearest surface. You slipped outside into the cold night air and he followed.

As you slumped against the wall and let the tears wrack your body you heard the door creak. Shoes scuffled against the pavement and you hid your face in your arms, away from prying eyes.

“Hey baby, are you doing alright?”

He slumped down beside you, leaving a gap between your bodies.

You tried to keep your voice even as you spoke but it cracked and trembled.

“Yea-h I’m ju-ust P-peachy!”

You hiccuped.

“Do you need hug?”

“N-no!”

His hands which were reaching to comfort you returned to his sides.

“No, it’s just a lot righ-ght now I can’t h-handle anyone touching me.”

Oh. He was starting to understand.

“What can I do sweet heart?”

You swallowed hard and took a breath, removing your hands from your tear stained face. You offered him a small smile as a tear slid down your chin.

“We could just talk quietly.. it helps distract me sometimes.”

He grinned back.

“Okay, okay. Eyes on me.”

He pointed to his eyes.

“I want you focused right here.”

You turned your body to face him and he did the same, sitting cross legged.

“How’s your day been? Tell me your favorite and your least favorite thing that happened today.”

And you sat like that for fifteen minutes. The tears receded and the sobs turned into soft laughter. When you pulled yourself up from the concrete you grasped his hand. You turned your eyes to the floor again, this time bashfully.

“Hey can I have that hug now?”

It was barely a whisper.

He turned around and wrapped his arms around you. He just held you. Your body relaxed and you let out a sigh. If you ever had a home it was this.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me honey. I love you. I will always be here, whatever you need.”

Sugawara Koushi, Tetsurou Kuroo, Hajime Iwaxumi ,Keiji Akashi, Osamu Miya, Daichi sawamura, Eijiro kirishima, Shoto todoroki, Albedo, Diluc, Al Haithem, Kazuha

author’s note: as someone who struggles with these issues I hope this made you feel seen. I haven’t been on this blog in awhile but I am back to give it a little TLC, !Friendly reminder that my asks are open! Dont be shy to send something my way, I want to hear every detail..

[fyodior]

STOP.

✸ pairing: lovecraft x afab ada!reader

✸ cw: VERY DARK CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI. tentacles, noncon, oviposition (eggs), choking, womb fucking.

✸ notes: breedtober fic 5! mentioned but this takes place during season 2 and the guild conflict, reader is in the ADA. easily the nastiest thing ive ever written! proceed with caution and/or have fun :)

✸ wc: 1.3k (im sick)

want more of breedtober?

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. there are tentacles. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!

You should’ve never, ever underestimated him. He might’ve seemed aloof, fatigued, and uninterested in anything but completing a day’s work, but it was all just a façade. How could you be so stupid? To write this eldritch monster, H. P. Lovecraft, off as harmless and unthreatening was the worst mistake you could’ve made. Following closely behind choosing to walk the streets of Yokohama alone at night as an ADA detective while the conflict with The Guild had yet to be resolved, and all the members of said organization were still at large.

“Please- please!” you cried out, tears in your eyes as you were being dragged into a dark alleyway by the man with the ability no one could fathom or understand. The one not even Dazai could nullify and put up a good fight against Chuuya’s corrupted state. “Let me go! Please!”

“Please stop talking,” Lovecraft deadpanned, sounding as bored and indifferent as he would if you had only asked him what time it was. His face was completely expressionless in the most terrifying way. “I just want this done.”

Despite his wishes, you still continued to thrash in his oddly strong arms – you never would’ve guessed based on his general appearance, another mistake – even as he pinned you down facedown against an abandoned dumpster and tugged your pants down. You couldn’t see it but you could hear it – the way his arm that wasn’t holding you down transformed from human skin and bone to… something else. Something green, wet, and slimy. A tentacle. One that was currently slithering down the back of your panties and poking at your hole.

"Why are you doing this?” you wailed, coiling away from the disgusting, horrifying feeling of the appendage attempting to touch your sex.

“It’s mating season,” is all he offers, as if it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. The one hand that he’d been using to hold you down had now morphed into four tentacles, each restricting you so tightly you started wondering if fighting was completely useless.

“Why me?” was your next question.

“I’d really prefer it if you eliminated any and all speech.”

As if to really drive his point home, potentially to even punish you, the tentacles wrapped even tighter around your limbs before the one most precariously located penetrated you hard. As thick as a soda can, the slimy tentacle made you scream at the top of your lungs. You could feel the way your poor, unprepared pussy was stretched so tight around the girth it felt like you were about to tear. Never mind the way it squirmed and wiggled further and further into your cunt, pulsing and writhing until it reached your cervix.

You screamed and cried and wailed desperately until Lovecraft got so sick of it, he formed another tentacle to curl around your throat and mouth, choking and gagging you.

The man, if he could even be called that, maintained his bored, uninterested appearance even as he restrained, choked, and fucked you with his ability. The tentacle wasted no time in further violating your cunt, picking up a painful rhythm as it thrust in and out of you, reaching all the way to your cervix each and every time. Your legs trembled and slime leaked steadily out of your hole onto the concrete ground – at least there was lubrication.

Despite your violent protests and pleading for it all to stop, it would be a lie to say it didn’t feel… good. That the way this monster fucked you didn’t stretch you so deliciously, that the tapered tip of the tentacle didn’t flick against your sweet spot continuously. That was the only reason Lovecraft loosened the grip on your mouth – to let you moan. And moan you did.

“Feel good?” he smirked, the curls of his lips the first sign of emotion he had shown all night.

“Please- ngh- please stop!” you cried out, words forcibly interrupted by a hearty moan as he angled the tentacle slightly differently, having somehow perfectly zeroed in on your sweet spot. “Fuck!”

It was made even worse when yet another tentacle slithered close, curling around your waist and underneath you. You were unsure of its purpose only for a moment, until it began tracing your slit and massaging your clit.

“Stop!” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut and banging your fist against the rusted metal of the garbage bin. The echoes of the warping metal only slightly drowned out your moans of pleasure. Lovecraft’s smirk only grew – he didn’t need your consent, but a willing partner was always easier to breed.

“Just let it feel good,” he sighed, stretching the tentacle inside you even wider.

“N-never,” you groaned, though it really, really felt good. Now both slime and slick were dripping out of your hole, a nasty mixture that ran down your thighs and pooled in your pants that were still bunched around your knees.

You had gotten so lost in the terribly intoxicating feeling of getting fucked alongside it rubbing your clit that you had completely forgotten about the breeding comment he had made – but Lovecraft didn’t.

“You should be ready soon,” he hummed, eyeing the size of the appendage buried in your pussy and attempting to gauge its size in reference to the egg.

“R-ready? For w-” your question was answered before you were even able to finish asking it. The reason why he wanted to get you to feel good, to loosen up. For the eggs.

A bloodcurdling screech penetrated Lovecraft’s ears, loud and disturbing enough that he actually frowned, once the first egg passed through the appendage and reached your hole.

“What is that?”

He had maybe slightly underestimated the size of the egg, as your body seemed to be resisting it much more than he thought it would – it’d been a bit since he’d done this. He had to form multiple extra tentacles for this part of the process; one to shut you up once again so he could concentrate, two to spread your thighs as wide as possible to allow for easiest entry, and a few more to keep you more still. A moving target was much harder to hit.

The first egg still remained lodged in your pussy, struggling to push past the ring of muscle so it could exit the tentacle and insert itself into your womb. With stimulation coming from every which direction, you hadn’t even noticed the way the very tip of the tentacle had slithered past your cervix and directly inside your uterus.

“Fucking- take it,” Lovecraft groaned frustratedly, spreading your cheeks painfully wider to pry your pussy open, until finally the egg was able to pass through. If able to pass your lips, your screams likely would’ve shattered windows. The worst part was the egg forcing its way through your cervix and nestling happily inside your womb.

But the absolute worst part of it all? This felt good, too.

There was something so horrifically enticing, so disturbingly erotic about a mysterious eldritch being stuffing its eggs deep inside you, depending on you to carry and incubate them. And those were the thoughts that unfortunately filled your head as he fucked eggs into you one by one, your tummy distending with each addition.

It even filled your head as you lay half naked against the dumpster, back against a brick wall once Lovecraft had relieved himself of all his eggs and abandoned you in that alleyway.

You could hear Kunikida calling your name with fear and fervor in the distance, clearly having found out you were attacked, but all you could do was rub your abnormally round belly and giggle almost drunkenly as you replayed those moments over and over in your mind – how could you have gotten so lucky?

[jellys-compendium]

Lovebug

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Sinister!Vash x f!Reader Word Count: 7.9K Summary: You've been running for a long time, miraculously evading the destructive storm on your heels. But one fateful night you find yourself trapped and unable to escape the humanoid typhoon any longer. He'll make you regret running from him. Cw: blood, gun violence, side character death, noncon to dubcon, predator/prey dynamics, smut, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, rough sex, p in v sex, gunplay, choking, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), cumming inside, dacryphilia, yandere, obsessive/possessive behaviour, manipulation, mind breaking, pet names, degradation & praise.

A/n: This is a dark fic. Read the content warnings before proceeding. If this sort of writing isn't your thing, please don't read! I will have a softer fic for Vash coming in the near future. Also, just a quick note that for narrative purposes , I decided to interpret Sinister!Vash as Vash turning evil (not as a separate entity).

The sharp scent of rust lingers in your nose. It couples with the muted dusty air and further serves to dry out your parched throat. Each time you swallow in an attempt to alleviate your thirst, it feels like sandpaper scrapes along your esophagus. Money be damned, you would trade every last double dollar you own for a glass of water right now.

Unfortunately for you, not a single one of the sheriff’s men had come to check up on your sorry state since you’d been caught, cuffed, and thrown into this dingy cell hours ago. They’d locked you in here and thrown away the key as it were. Guess you shouldn’t be surprised, given the bounty on your head.

Heaving a sigh, you lean back against the cold concrete wall of your prison, your movement causing the tattered and smelly cot supporting you to creak and groan. With little else to do, your mind wanders to the earlier events of the day.

How did you get yourself into this mess? 

You’d been so painstakingly careful to keep your head down and profile low in every town you had passed by for the last year. Not a single soul, let alone law enforcement, had ever suspected that you were the former partner of the legendary humanoid typhoon. So how is it that the sheriff of this backwater little town had you figured out the moment you’d set foot in his jurisdiction?

With a metaphorical fine toothed comb, your mind analyzes each and every interaction you’ve had since the morning, searching for clues on how you’d been discovered—but nothing clicks into place. You hadn’t spoken a whisper about your true identity, or about Vash, to anybody since you’d quit and run from his company of outlaws.

On top of that you were careful to cover your tracks, doing everything in your power to erase all that you were before disappearing into the night in a hail mary attempt at a better life—one that wasn’t tainted with lies and blood. 

A gnawing sorrow aches in your chest at the thought of your former lover, and you can’t help but reach up and rub over that hollow space under your breastbone. Deep down you still love Vash more than anyone else but…you will have no part in his cruelty.

You don’t know when it started, but Vash had changed into a person you no longer recognize. Gone was the kind gunman clad in red with a broken smile, and in his place emerged another person entirely. He was vicious, manipulative, and cruel. Taking lives without regard in order to get what he wanted. Within the span of a few months, Vash had truly transformed into the monster that the people of this planet fear him to be—and that had completely and irrevocably broken your heart.

For months you had feared that Vash would pick up on your trail and track you down in retaliation for your abandoning of his little group. But as the weeks stretched on, the suns rising and falling with each passing day, your nerves settled and you surmised that Vash must have had better things to do rather than chase you down.

‘He must have found someone else to warm his bed by now.’

The intrusive thought clings to your mind incessantly, and you desperately attempt to force it away with a shake of your head. No. You’d left that life behind, you’ve left him behind for a reason . 

Vash would have devoured you—consumed you whole and then spit out your bones if you hadn’t left when you did. The way Vash makes you feel is beyond anything you had ever experienced before. He’s intoxicating, addicting, seductive—a devil that beguiles you with sweet whispers in one ear, while holding the barrel of a gun against the other. 

For a time, you had lost yourself in his coils—exchanging your humanity for a burning desire that had scorched your body and soul. But before the humanoid typhoon could corrupt you completely, you escaped.

And…you ran.

And ran,

And ran.

Until that murderous, crimson eyed shadow that followed each of your footsteps surrendered to the sunshine above, and disappeared amidst the blistering sands of No Man’s Land. You were finally free, and although there is a dark and secret part of you that still longs for Vash, you know that you did the right thing.

Abruptly, a distant rumble captures your ear. Perking up, your gaze is led from the dark shadows in the corner of your cell towards the distant door leading out of the jailhouse’s cell room. Your body stills as the roaring commotion gets louder, your muscles sit taut as you listen and try to decipher the noises coming from beyond the bars.

You hear footsteps, shouts and— gunfire .

Gunfire, then screams.

Adrenaline kicks into high gear and you immediately get up from the stained cot, racing towards the door of your cell. Your cuffed hands grasp the cold bars of your prison as more blood curdling screams fill the air. Was it a robbery? Bandits? Or could it really be?

The monstrous possibility of what awaits just beyond that door sends you into a panic. Panting frantically, you use your entire body weight to rattle the bars in a foolhardy attempt to wiggle the cell door free. But of course, the iron door does not budge.

‘No.’ You ram your shoulder against the door.

‘No!’

Your arm screams out in pain as you use your entire body weight this time.

‘This can’t be happening! It can’t be him!’

“Sheriff!! Sheriff!!” You shout desperately. “Let me out! Let me out!”

The terrible thundering of gunshots and panicked commotion intensifies. Pounding footsteps race down the hallway and shake the floorboards just beyond the prison cell door. You shudder when you hear the terrified screams from the men warbling through the wood and concrete, sharp and horrifying but then—silence.

Oh god. They’re all…

Blood pulses in your ears, making you feel faint as the song of more bullets sings through the air. Even from your iron cage, you can tell the shots are precise—every single one effectively ending the lives of the Sheriff's men one by one. Within mere moments, the once lively jailhouse had become as silent as a graveyard. The only sounds you hear now are a single pair of creaking footsteps and…a song.

“Total slaughter~

Total slaughter

I won’t leave a single man alive…”

Oh god—it is him . 

Releasing the bars of your cell door, you frantically begin to look around the dim lit space. A bucket and the cot are all you have to work with. Shit.

The footsteps come closer.

“...La dee da dee die

Genocide~

La dee da dee dud

An ocean of blood…”

You detect a sound of heavy shuffling just outside and you look on, terrified , as the door leading to the jail’s cells creaks open. You freeze, legs nearly giving out from fear, but…it isn’t Vash.

Instead, into the room crawls a man—a man that you recognize as the Sheriff's deputy. He’s breathing hard, petrified little whimpers escaping his lips with each exhale. 

Trapped as you are you can do nothing but watch, wide eyed and horrified, as the man crawls into the room on all fours. His brown vest, white shirt, and slacks are covered with blood. More of it drips from his disheveled hair, leaving a gruesome trail of dark red as he shakingly makes his way across the floorboards and towards your cell. 

The deputy’s face is pale white and pouring sweat as he looks up at you…except he isn’t looking up at you. It almost looks like he’s looking through you.

“M–m–monster…h–he’s a monster.” The man whimpers, his red teeth chattering like tin cans in the wind. Trembling, the deputy reaches towards your cell door with a bloodied hand and his eyes finally lock with yours.

“H—help me.”

The sight of this man near death immobilizes you with terror, but as the man’s fingers wrap around one of the bars of your cell, the urgency in your gut magnifies, overwhelming the piercing fear inside of you. You have to try and save him. You have to.

Moving quickly, you squat down, reaching for the deputy’s hand, you grasp it tightly with yours.

“Give me the keys. Help me open the door so I can get us out of here.”

But the man doesn’t move. Instead he mutters and weeps, his voice strained and high with each incoherent syllable he babbles.

Frustrated and frantic, you bang your hand against the bars, hoping that the jolt will startle the deputy to his senses. 

“Hey! Are you listening?! Give me the keys or he’s going to—”

A piercing gunshot rings through the air and you leap up with a shout as the air rushes out of the deputy’s lungs. The deputy’s eyes turn dull, and you cry out in horror as his body jerks and then falls still at your feet.

He’s…he’s…

“Let’s begin…

The killing time” 

It takes all the courage you have left to lift your gaze and follow the blood stains left by the deputy. Eventually, your eyes land on a black pair of leather boots. Moving upwards, your sight lingers along the familiar dark blue coat tails—their ripped and tattered ends doused with fresh blood. Your attention moves up that infamous coat and finally lands on the face of the humanoid typhoon himself.

Vash the Stampede.

The outlaw’s crimson eyes stare directly into your own, shackling you in place more effectively than the metal cuffs around your wrists ever could. His eyes are intense as they focus on you, possessive and all consuming. It was only a matter of time before he found you, and you were an idiot to think that you could evade him forever.

As if agreeing with that very thought, a sly grin spreads across Vash’s handsome face. Like a ravenous wildcat who had finally caught his prey, the humanoid typhoon exhales a breath of relief and holsters his gun. 

“There you are.”

Vash approaches your cell and all you can do is silently watch as he bends down and yanks the ring of keys off of the deputy’s belt. Vash is methodical as always. Moving like a serpent in water, he never wastes a single movement. Each and every action of his is calculated and designed to lead him towards his ultimate goal.

And tonight, his goal is you.

Vash never takes his eyes off you as he slips the key into its slot with a poignant click. Then with a flick of his wrist the door unlocks, and Vash swings it wide open.

Your body’s response is immediate. Trembling, you retreat blindingly backwards until your body hits the concrete wall of your cell. Vash tsks, following your movements with inhumanly long strides of his own. It only takes a second for him to catch up with you—his body towering over yours once he closes that distance you were so desperate to create.

You jolt as Vash’s hands reach up and grasp your own, leather clad fingers lacing around your trembling digits as he lifts your cuffed wrists to his face. He leans down, and brushes his lips along the cold flesh of your palm, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. 

“Oh my poor little lovebug.” Vash sensually coos, his deceivingly soft and gentle voice echoing along the iron bars. “What have they done to you?”

Gods, you should be repulsed and terrified, but instead of turning your blood to ice, Vash’s touch causes your entire body to instantly be consumed by a sweet and agonizing flame. The cinders that linger in your heart reignite and burn tenfold at the touch of the man that you love so dearly.

“Lovebug.” 

Like a siren, Vash’s hypnotizing whisper lulls away your fear—enchanting you.

“So frightened. You’re shaking like a newborn kitten. Come here, let me hold you.”

As if the choice were yours, Vash pulls your body flush against his. You gasp as the familiar sensation of his strong arms wraps around you and overpowers your resolve. His warm scent, the feeling of his lips as he so tenderly kisses your cheek, the weight of his hands as they glide up and down your back in a soothing motion. All of it brings tears of turmoil to your eyes.

No…this can’t happen again.

“I’m sorry, lovebug. If I had known they would treat you like this I would have come for you sooner.”

Come for you? As in, Vash knew where you’d been this entire time?

Your mind reels at the realization. You had never escaped Vash’s shadow. Instead it had grown so large and widespread that you’d failed to notice it all around you. 

The people who let you on your way and turned a blind eye to your identity, those kind souls who had given you food to eat and a bed to sleep in when you were weary, even the men of this town who had arrested you as an accomplice of the humanoid typhoon. Every single one of them had been an instrument of Vash’s own design.

Vash places a final kiss upon your cheek. Pulling back, he smiles at your dumbfounded expression.

“Let’s get you out of these cuffs.”

Vash lets your hands fall, his fingers flicking through the keyring until he finds the one he is looking for. How Vash knows exactly which key to use, you are not sure, but it’s no surprise when he selects one and slips it into the cuff’s lock. He frees you immediately with a twist of his hand.

The metal cuffs fall to the floor with a resounding thud and your breath leaves you in a hiss as the dry hair hits your raw skin. But before you can soothe your own pain, Vash takes your wrists in his grasp, thumbs gently gliding over the reddened skin as he pulls you closer once more.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you feel Vash lean in, the heat of his body encompassing as his lips brush against yours.

“Have you learned your lesson? You won’t run away from me again, right lovebug?”

Vash’s sinister words send a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps erupt all across your flesh as the skin on your fingertips tingles. This man has orchestrated every part of your life for the past year without you even knowing about it. What are the limits to his reach? His cruelty? His obsession? How far will he go to claim you as his own?

In your silence Vash releases a heavy sigh, then places a soft kiss on your lips.

“I asked you a question.”

The words catch in your dry and tightening throat. You swallow, lips trembling as you try your best to speak.

“Vash, I—”

Before you can finish, pounding footsteps vibrate through the jailhouse, and it’s not long before four men appear in the doorway with guns drawn and their expressions terrified at the massacre laying at their feet.

The moment the men lay their eyes on Vash, the four of them let out a roar of fury.

“The humanoid typhoon!”

“You bastard!” 

“Kill him!”

But before the men manage to aim their pistols, four gunshots whistle through the air in rapid succession. You didn’t even realize that Vash had unholstered his own gun before the four men dropped lifeless on the floor.

A fresh wave of despair courses through you and your head spins as the humanoid typhoon—the diablo —reholsters his gun and returns his attention to you. His face is calm and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just murdered an entire building full of people.

“Now, where were we?”

Panic stabs through your chest, kick starting your fight or flight. You have to get away, you have to escape him. Being a murderer, an outlaw on the run, isn’t who you are anymore. You’d promised yourself that you would leave that life behind, no matter how much you wanted the man who’d seduced you into that life in the first place.

Clenching your fists to try and subvert your shaking, you start to move your body to the right, readying yourself to pounce around Vash and make a break for the door. But Vash’s scarlet gaze sees through your every move long before you even conceptualize it. He sighs, rolling his eyes before slamming his palm on the concrete by your head, trapping you in his reach.

Your body jolts at the vibrations of the impact. Then Vash leans in, hot breath on your lips as he whispers a dark promise.

“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”

No sooner had Vash uttered those foreboding words, more footsteps pound through the halls of the jailhouse. An irritated growl rumbles in Vash’s throat as he unholsters his gun once more and aims it at the door, hissing between his teeth.

“Cockroaches.”

Two more men emerge from the doorway and time slows as you watch Vash’s finger glide seamlessly towards the trigger.

Against all reasonable sense, your body moves. Lightening fast, you launch yourself at Vash, grasping his wrist in your hands and pushing his arm upwards with all of your might. Your sudden movement takes the humanoid typhoon off guard, and the two bullets he had intended to place right between the men’s eyes whistle and lodge into the wooden roof above.

“RUN!”

Using your body to knock Vash off balance, you bolt for the cell door, leaping over the bodies on the floor as the two men in front of you turn tail and run as fast as their legs can carry them. 

Your lungs burn as you follow them, racing out of the jail as if it were about to be engulfed in a raging inferno. Following closely behind the men in front of you, the three of you eventually manage to scramble out of the jailhouse. The cool night air hits your face and you pause. The street is dark and empty, and the two men who had just run out before you were racing towards the light of the neighboring town. 

You desperately want to follow them, to find sanctuary in the safe bustle of a populated town square. But Vash has his sights set on you, and you know you’ll only serve to put more innocent lives at risk if you look for help now.

The sudden sound of eerie humming echoes through the jailhouse behind you. You turn, body trembling and eyes wide as you search the darkness. Then almost as soon as that strange tune had started, it stops. 

A cold shiver of fear tingles down your spine at the foreboding silence. Then out of the darkness you hear Vash shout menacingly, his voice morphing into an inhuman two-toned scream that you’d never heard before. 

It curdles your blood.

“MAYFLY!”

You bolt, stray tears blinding your vision as you scramble like mad down the dirt dusted path in the opposite direction of town. Your breath rushes in and out of you at record speed as you rush towards the abandoned buildings lining the town’s outskirts. If you could just make it there and hide yourself in the shadows of broken and discarded concrete, you might stand a chance. 

But of course, much like a panicked animal with no sense of direction, your path twists and turns as you mindlessly try to find a good place to hide—only to wind up trapping yourself in a dead end. An empty alleyway illuminated solely by moonlight.

“No, no, no!”

You prepare to turn on your heel to retrace your steps but the moment you spin to face the other direction, your body becomes paralyzed with shock. Vash is standing right behind you . Somehow he had silently kept up with you, hounding your steps like a hungry dog from the depths of hell.

Vash smiles.

“Found you.” 

The unearthly flash of his red eyes shines in the darkness before a rush of wind gusts through the night. It’s then that you notice a single distorted, black feathered wing adorning Vash’s back. It stretches magnificently in the moonlight and you notice a gleaming, razor sharp talon adorning the juncture at the top of those cascading feathers. Your jaw drops. You had never seen Vash with wings before.

Vash takes a single step forward and stops when he sees you tremble. He watches you closely, both of you bodies still. And in that quiet moment, your soul is drawn into those deep crimson pools.

Mayfly…mayfly… lovebug …

Inexplicably, the tension eases from your body, limbs becoming still as if every part of you were surrendering to its fate. A devilishly handsome grin spreads across Vash’s lips as he watches your defiant spark finally simmer into nothing but harmless embers.

“Awww, trapped yourself again, little lovebug?” Vash chuckles darkly, his tone mocking. “Poor, sweet thing. You always seem to wind up in a cage.”

Your jaw clenches. How could Vash say that, when he was the one who drove you here in the first place? When he is the very cage itself?

“Y–you murdered those innocent people.”

Vash exhales a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as the large black feathers on his wing bristle with irritation.

“Innocent? I’d hardly call them that.” The typhoon's playful expression falls and then darkens, and his voice shifts into a tone of dead seriousness.  

“They laid their hands on you.”

Before you can even blink, Vash is before you—a great shadow that looms and blocks out all light except that of the eerie glow of his gaze. Vash’s hands wrap around your wrists, squeezing the raw skin and making you gasp with pain. 

“They shackled you and locked you up in that cold, dark place. They hurt you, lovebug.”

Your molars sink into the inside of your cheek as you try to combat your cowardice with pain. You glare at the man before you, and spit out your next words like venom.

“Only because you had orchestrated it. You’re the mastermind here, not them.”

The sinister grin that pulls at the corner’s of Vash’s mouth confirms everything you had suspected. He truly is…a monster.

With a swift movement, Vash yanks on your wrists and jerks your body closer to his. You gasp, straining against him in vain. The heat that radiates off of Vash’s body slams into your skin as his single black wing swoops down to envelop you further. He’s warm—so warm—an ambrosia unlike any other.

“Clever girl.” Vash whispers before planting a chaste little kiss on the tip of your nose.

You shudder.

“Are—are you going to hurt me?”

Your question isn’t meant to elicit any sympathy, but Vash’s red eyes soften once he hears them and his grip around your wrists loosen. As if apologizing with his hands, Vash’s fingers circle and soothe your abused flesh.

“Oh lovebug, never. I absolutely adore you. I’d never let any harm come to you.” 

Vash brings your wrists to his lips, pressing hot kisses against your cold skin. The flames in your belly coil, reigniting as they are fueled by the rhythm of your heart. Vash is weaving his spell again, coaxing you back into that syrupy sweet web of deceit and rapture. 

And…you’re falling for it. Falling for him all over again.

“But,” Vash murmurs. His hot tongue slipping out of his mouth to swipe along your bruised skin. 

“You should be punished for trying to run from me.”

Air gusts out of your lungs as Vash pushes your body backwards. He manhandles you with ease before pinning your form against the frigid wall behind you. The claw at the juncture of where his wing bends pierces into the concrete with a terrible scraping sound and pins your wrists to the wall above your head, rendering you completely helpless.

Then, Vash’s nimble fingers undo the button of your slacks.

Jaw dropping, you cry out with rage, cursing Vash and kicking your feet against his legs as you try to fight back. But it’s as if you are battling against a tornado. Nothing you do phases him, and in one single, practiced movement, Vash rids you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your shirt and underwear.

“Vash!” You screech, nailing him with another swift kick to the shin. “How could y–”

Words are stolen from your lips and your body completely freezes when you suddenly feel the glide of cold metal between your legs. You look down, and your heart nearly stops when you realize Vash has placed the barrel of his gun flush against your panty covered pussy.

The sound of Vash’s dark laughter turns your blood to ice. He leans forwards and presses his burning lips against the corner of your mouth.

“Ever played Russian roulette?” He whispers.

Eyes wide with panic, you turn your head to look at Vash—silently pleading for him to reconsider, to show you mercy and let you go. But Vash’s expression is calm and resolute.

“How about I make you a deal.” He muses. You watch, tense and breathless, as Vash’s thumb caresses the hammer of his .45 long colt. 

“If you can come before I get to the last bullet in the cylinder, we’ll consider your punishment served, alright?”

No. No, no, no, no.

“Vash, please—”

Brushing aside your protest, Vash presses the gun harder against your cunt, grinding the top of the cold barrel between your folds. You gasp sharply, arching against the icy friction as Vash pushes the gun further between your clenched thighs.

The rear sight bumps against your clit and you whimper as a rush of heat gushes between your legs. Vash grins at your reaction, thrusting the gun harder against your tender flesh. 

“That’s it, lovebug” Vash coos. “Feels so good doesn’t it?”

The hammer of the gun clicks, and you have to stifle a pathetic squeal before it can escape. Vash’s smile widens, eyes alight with excitement—then he pulls the trigger.

Blank.

Your body sags.

“One.” Vash purrs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus singularly on your goal. You have to come before Vash gets to that last bullet. You have to.

Hot puffs of air leave you open mouth in desperate whines as you start to piston your hips against the barrel of Vash’s gun, rubbing your swelling clit and folds against the harsh metal at his command.

A pleased hum rumbles in Vash’s chest as the obsidian feathers above you shudder with delight.

“Yes,” Vash breathes, leaning down to sample your flesh. His sharp canines tease along the column of your throat, and the feeling of his hot breath fanning across your skin makes you shiver and mewl. Your pussy twitches, nipples hardening as you start to melt in his hands.

“Good girl.”

The cylinder of the gun turns and you groan, grinding your pussy harder along that metal length. All logical thought disappears as the intoxicating pleasure of Vash’s game overpowers your mind. Like a worm on a hook, Vash has you in his grasp—he always has.

Another click of the trigger, another blank.

“Two.”

Vash’s mouth latches onto your throat now, his tongue and teeth caressing and nipping your skin as his free hand rises up to grope your neglected breast, pinching and teasing at your puckered nipple with greedy fingers.

Lewd moans fall from your lips as jolts of pleasure ricochet through your body. A desperate plea of Vash’s name fills the air as you slick drips from your fluttering cunt, lubing up the gun between your folds.

“Mmmm,” Vash moans, pink tongue languidly licking at his bottom lip. His eyes are glued to the spectacle before him. 

“That’s it, rub that pussy, baby. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Vash’s gun clicks once more. Thankfully, it’s another blank.

“Three.”

Only three more changes remain, and one of them is deadly. Knowing this, your movements become more desperate, grinding yourself against Vash’s gun with fervor as sweat begins to pour down your brow and back. Your body trembles, and you try not to think about how you must look, humping Vash’s gun like a bitch in heat.

Oh god.  

You’re scared but you’re positively throbbing for Vash’s touch. You haven’t been touched once since you’d escaped his clutches, and despite everything that has happened and the new life you had chosen, you are still so foolishly in love with him.

The people of this land may have been the ones you have chosen to side with, but Vash is the only one in your dreams. Vash is the only one who can make you feel like this. He haunts you and corrupts you. Fucks you and devours you.

Vash is the diablo you just can’t shake.

Releasing your throat with a hungry growl, Vash’s mouth travels up to passionately kiss your lips. You moan wantonly, accepting his tongue with unrestrained lust as you attempt to arch your body closer to his. Vash’s tongue swirls in tandem with yours, groaning into your mouth as he readies another shot. You whimper against him, fingernails digging into his feathers.

“Vash…”

Click

Blank.

“Four.” Vash pants, his tongue plunging into your mouth once more, matching in time with the thrusts of his gun. Paradoxically fucking you brutally and sweetly at the same time.

Vash angles his gun upwards, teasing the metal shaft against your entrance. And gods, you know you should be terrified—fighting him tooth and nail for not only your dignity but your life. But as the now warmed and lubed metal of his gun plays with your entrance, all you can do is arch and moan like a whore.

An alluringly dark chuckle rings in your ears as Vash’s grip on your breast tightens. You gasp as he pinches your nipple and rolls it harshly between his fingers.

“Wishing it was my cock, lovebug?”

You shake your head back and forth, and Vash’s grin widens.

“Don’t lie, of course you are. You’ve always been such a dirty little slut for me.”

Vash pinches your nipple harder—a punishment for your little lie—and you cry out as the cylinder makes another round. This time, Vash doesn’t wait, he immediately pulls the trigger, eliciting a yelp of fear from the depths of your lungs. 

Sure enough, it’s another blank.

“Five.” Vash chuckles. He releases your breast, and you watch as his hand travels down to the front of his pants, palming the thick hot bulge that sits just underneath his coat.

“Oh, one more baby. You’ve been sooo lucky so far. Think you’re gonna cum before this gun blows your pussy sky high?” 

Your words tangle in your throat, so you elect to nod rapidly instead. Your teeth sink into your lip as you furiously rub your cunt along the length of the gun, purposefully catching your clit on the metal grooves at the base with each thrust.

Fuck. Fuuuuck.

Almost there. Almost there!

The cylinder turns one final time as Vash’s finger glides sensually along the trigger. He kisses you again, his tongue diving deep into your mouth, drinking in everything you have to give him. Vash swallows your scream, and then pulls the trigger.

…

Nothing.

Both your hips and the gun still, and Vash laughs gleefully at your confused and near delirious expression. He grins like a cat who had just eaten the canary, and then presses a tender little kiss to your lips.

“Six.”

Vash pulls the gun out from between your legs, the barrel glistening in the moonlight with your slick as he brings it up to your line of sight.

“Hmm, soaked it right through your panties didn’t you? What a little slut.”

Vash's long pink tongue snakes out from between his lips, and you watch—mesmerized and aroused to high heaven— as he licks the barrel of the gun clean. Vash’s eyes never leave you once as he purrs with satisfaction at your taste. 

When he’s finished, Vash holsters his gun then wraps that now free hand around your throat while the other lands heavily on your hip.

Your breath stalls as the fingers on your hip snake around and down into the waistband of your flimsy cotton underwear, body jolting as they slip inside and reach all the way down to your messy pussy. 

“Vash,” You whimper as his leather clad fingers toy with your swollen clit. 

“Vash…”

The wing that holds your hands captive disappears, and you sigh with relief as your arms fall and land on top Vash’s shoulders.

“Hold onto me little lovebug,” Vash coos, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Fuck, you are so cute.”

Without reserve, Vash plunges two of his fingers into your sex. Your back arches, and you moan loudly as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to take his thick fingers deeper. You need him. You need him so desperately you feel like you’re gonna break.

Saccharine praise falls in hushed whispers from Vash’s lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot as he thrusts into your sloppy pussy ruthlessly. The wet squelch of your flesh lovingly sucking his fingers echoes across the empty hallway—indisputable proof oh just how much you want him.

“So wet. Gonna come on my fingers, lovebug? Think I should let you?”

You nod your head frantically, legs straining as you stand on the tips of your toes, thrusting against his hand with a wild cry—your cunt pulses and then practically weeps into his palm.

“YES! YES! Vash—please, please, let me come. Pleeease. ”

Oh, fuuuck. You’re so close. You’re gonna cum, just a little more. 

Vash smiles that dazzling handsome smile of his as his fingers tighten around your throat, cutting off most of your air and making your head spin. Your cunt squeezes around Vash’s fingers as he thrusts them inside, only for him to bully your g-spot until you cry.

“So pretty when you beg, baby.” Vash coos, licking a fallen tear from your cheek. 

“But…”

His fingers slip out of your puffy walls, and you cry out with frustration, fists banging against his shoulders like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum.

But Vash just laughs at you, and before you can give him a piece of your mind, he slides off your ruined panties and hoists you up into the air. Your back presses against the crumbling wall as your thighs come to rest on Vash’s shoulders.

He’s so strong.

Monster…

Without delay, Vash’s mouth dives between the twitching folds of your sex, and you scream up into the starless sky.

God, Vash always knows just how to pull you apart. He always manages to find that frayed and loose thread of your willpower, wrap it around his lithe fingers, and then pull it oh-so-gently. The reward of watching you as you unravel before him must have been the sweetest euphoria, because he kept doing it. Again and again.

“You taste so good.” Vash growls hotly against your sex. 

“Admit it, no one can treat you as good as I do.”

Vash’s tongue flattens along your pussy, red eyes making contact with yours and holding you there as he slowly and sensually circles his tongue around your clit.

“They don’t know how to worship this pussy properly.”

“Vash,” You beg, throat tightening as you choke on your tears. “Please, let me come. I’m aching.”

Wordlessly, Vash laps your clit into his mouth, giving it one harsh suck before snagging it between his teeth. You cry out, fingers burning into his white locks as he releases you.

“There, there lovebug. Spread your legs wider. You can take my tongue for just a little bit longer, right?”

Begrudgingly, you do as he says, and Vash groans as you spread yourself open just for him. The humanoid typhoon dives in again, lapping hungry stripes along your cunt—spitting on your little hole and then collecting every drop of his saliva and your slick that he can gather before readily swallowing every drop.

“I haven’t tasted you for a whole year.” Vash growls against your folds, the tip of his nose rubbing forcefully against your clit and making you see stars.

“It was torture being without you.”

Vash begins to thrust his tongue into your sex, sloppily eating then sucking your throbbing flesh into his mouth. With his body, Vash passionately coaxes out every hidden little secret you’d buried deep. You scream with rapture in his hands, more tears falling freely down your face as you rapidly unravel in Vash’s hands.

“Vash, don’t stop! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Anything you ask! Please!”

But just as you’re about to reach your climax, your pussy clenching sweetly around Vash’s talented tongue, the heat of Vash’s mouth slips away.

The wail of despair that is ripped from your throat echoes pathetically into the desert air.

Vash chuckles at your anguish, giving your pussy one last cheeky lick before lowering you back to the ground. 

The moment your feet touch the floor, your body sways, unsteady and dizzy from the unfulfilled pleasure that Vash had ransacked through your body.

But Vash holds you steady as he pushes his coat to the side and unbuckles himself. Your half hooded eyes fall to the place where he’s touching but before you can catch a glimpse, Vash positions you facing the wall, ass out and hands up—bracing yourself. 

You shiver at the loss of Vash’s warmth. Your trembling doesn’t escape Vash’s notice, but before he decides to comfort you, Vash gives your cunt a healthy slap.

You shriek, tossing a fiery glare at him over your shoulder. Infuriatingly, Vash gives you a flirtatious wink before pressing his body flush to yours and draping himself over you. His black wing and blue coat envelop you and shield you from the moonlight above.

“Cold?” Vash’s hands wrap around your waist. “You’re trembling.”

You don’t respond, your lips pressing together into a thin line as you push your body backwards, rubbing your pussy against his bulge with a wordless demand. You want Vash’s cock. You want him to soothe your ache, to fill you up and make you forget your own name. 

Vash exhales a pleasured sigh as you rub yourself against him, his hands moving from your waist to circle around your back. He traces your spine with the care a sculptor shows his masterpiece. Vash’s scarlet gaze drinks you in with awe as you arch needily under the pressure of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, lovebug. I’ll keep you warm from now on.”

The sounds of rustling fabric and the satisfying pull of a zipper elicit a flicker of heat in your core. You look back, a moan falling from your lips as you catch a glimpse of Vash’s perfect cock. He’s achingly hard, his beautiful pink head leaking a gorgeous, glistening trail of precum down onto the globe of your ass.

Licking your lips, your gaze captures his. Even in the dim light, you can see that Vash’s cheeks are flushed as he breathes heavily.

Then, without so much as a word, Vash leans back and shoves every single inch of his throbbing cock inside of you with a single thrust.

Your head flies back as you scream his name in ecstasy. Without missing a beat, Vash reaches forward to grab a fistful of your hair, and the two of you moan in unison as Vash begins to rut feverishly into your sex.

“V-Vash! Vash! Vash!”

Your bodies straining and hips trembling, Vash bears down on you like a storm, claiming every inch of your soft flesh with indiscriminate and unrelenting hunger. The slap of his hips forces your body forward, and you brace yourself against the crumbling wall with all your might as the typhoon ravishes you from the inside out.  

It’s not long before your orgasm builds up again. Fuck, you’re so close—twitching and milking Vash with each brutal thrust inside your walls. And Vash knows how turned on you are . He can feel how your slick insides squeeze and massage his cock desperately, the pounding of your heart under his fingertips, the delicious gasps of pleasure he pulls from the depths of your depravity.

And with one more savage thrust you finally come, screaming and quivering as your body succumbs to wave after wave of unimaginable, white hot pleasure.

But Vash doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm, holding your hips steady as he keeps pounding into you from behind, using you like a fleshlight for his pleasure.

“More.” Vash growls, fangs nipping sharply against the skin on your back. 

“Give me more!”

You gasp for breath, fingernails scratching against the deteriorating concrete as your pussy squeezes down on him, helplessly barreling your entire body into another orgasm even as you finish the last. The cry of pleasure you release is guttural, primal and sinful as your cunt pulses around Vash's cock once more—desperately sucking, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

Vash stills for a moment, moaning openly as he savors the sensation and sight of your helpless body at his mercy. Vash’s chest burns with satisfaction as he feels the pleasure rolling off your skin. Pleasure that only he can give you. 

With a jerk of his body, Vash pulls his cock out of you. Then in a swift series of movements he pulls you upright and turns you around to face him. Your legs are practically jelly and utterly pliant to his whims as he hooks his arms under them and hauls you up in his arms. In response, you wrap your arms around Vash's neck and bury your face against his chest.

Vash buries his cock inside you to the hilt again, and your toes curl as you wail from the overstimulation. Surprisingly, Vash’s thrusts start slow, grinding into you languidly as you whine. The humanoid typhoon hushes your mewling sobs while he fucks you, pampering every part of you he can reach with his tender kisses—like the calm before the storm. It’s not long before Vash grows impatient however, and his pace rapidly quickens as he gives in to the raging lust inside him.

You.

His obsession.

His lovebug.

He’ll never let you go again.

“So good f’me.” Vash moans, fingers digging into your ass as he bounces your harder and faster on his cock. The lewd squelches and ring of cream that forms at his base the evidence of your sinful yearning.

“Gonna make you scream and squirt all over my cock, how does that sound?”

Vash’s unrelenting pace doesn’t falter as he chases your shared highs. You are powerless as you’re pulled into the undercurrent of his desire. Vash slams his dick inside you and his thick and demanding cockhead collides with your cervix. 

A surge of both pain and pleasure knocks the air out of your lungs as you’re sent tumbling into yet another powerful orgasm. Vash grins, utterly pleased with himself as he watches you cry and sing your anguished pleasure in his arms. Then, as if all this weren’t enough, a single large black feather slips between the two of your bodies like a snake, and begins to toy with your clit.

You scream.

“Come again.” Vash commands.

“Vash! S-stop!” You cry out, fat tears filling your eyes as drool falls from your lips from the overstimulation. God, he’s ruining you.

“I–I can’t come anymore! I can’t!”

Vash slams you against the wall, stabilizing you against it before one hand reaches down to pinch your clit, while his other hand wraps around your throat and squeezes.

“I’m not asking you. Come on my cock, now .”

Vash thrusts his shaft pitilessly inside you, the head of him ramming fiercely against your g-spot again before plunging all the way inside you. Your body can’t take it, the pressure between your hips releases, and you howl like an animal as your pussy pulses and gushes, squirting all over Vash’s cock as you come. 

An unabashed, obscene moan falls from Vash’s lips when he feels the rush of your pleasure in liquid form.

“That’s it, my perfect little slut. Sooo perfect. Look down and watch your pussy make a creamy little mess for me.”

And Vash still doesn’t stop. He continues to pound into you, fucking your through your orgasm yet again. He’s determined to thoroughly and irrevocably break you. And as you cling to him for dear life, the words that Vash had spoken earlier that night ring loud and clear in your mind.

“Don’t run, lovebug. I’ll make you regret it.”

You should have listened, but it was too late now.

Near delirious and exhausted, you practically fall limp in Vash’s arms, but Vash doesn’t let you tap out. Not yet. He pulls your head back, forcing you to look him straight in the eye, then he whispers,

“You are mine, do you understand? Your thoughts are mine. Your body is mine. Your pussy is mine…”

Vash slams back inside you with a force that nearly has you passing out. Then, he seals his lips with yours, tongue swirling and consuming everything he can reach.

When Vash releases you, you gasp for breath as his pace resumes.

“Your heart is mine.”

You swallow, your mind nothing but pleasured static and love drunk fog as you stare at him. That devilish smile returns to Vash’s face. He truly is incomplete without it.

“Admit it, lovebug.”

Your body trembles and in a desperate attempt to relieve yourself of this torture, the words escape you in a rush.

“Yes. I love you, Vash.”

Vash’s entire body shudders as he purrs at your confession. His dark wing drapes over the both of you as he claims your lips with yet another passionate kiss.

“Atta' girl.”

Surprisingly, Vash’s pace slows to a gentle grind. Slowly and languidly he rubs himself inside of you, as if he’s savouring you like a worshipper at a temple. The final orgasm that you share isn’t explosive like the ones you’ve had before.

It’s tender and sweet, washing over the both of you in gentle waves. Vash releases the softest and most beautiful moan as he comes, kissing you breathless as he fills you up with wave after wave of his hot cum.

For a brief moment, you wonder if this is the first time Vash had found release after you left. Had you been the only one to…

As your climaxes subside, harsh pants fill the air. Both you and Vash melt into each other’s arms, utterly destroyed and exhausted. Your sex throbs with a terrible ache, and to help relieve some of your tension you wiggle your hips, sliding Vash’s cock out half way in an attempt to get a breather.

But Vash growls, and shoves his cock all the way back inside you, grinding up against your cervix and making you whimper.

“Keep it all inside you, lovebug.” Vash murmurs softly. 

The humanoid typhoon claims your mouth with one more toe-curling kiss, and the two of you moan, slowly indulging in one another’s taste. Sucking and licking, until finally you have to pull away for air.

Vash pouts, but then he pulls back, electing to admire your love drunk expression instead.

“Didn’t you know?” Vash whispers, leaning back in to rub the tip of his nose against yours. 

“Lovebugs stay connected to their mates for life.”

You pause and digest those words. While they may seem romantic on the surface, deep down you see the foreboding promise they hold. Pulling away from Vash’s pampering, you respond.

“Lovebugs don’t live long. They die right after they mate.”

It’s Vash’s turn to pause, his expression quizzical as he looks into your eyes. But after a few beats, a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across his lips. It’s the kind of smile only a god of death could have.

“You’ll be the exception.”

dividers by @/saradika

[bonezone44]

Too Depraved 4 TV (ages 56+)

Joel x afab!Reader x Ezra x Tommy

Word Count: 2500

--I'm not doing my usual set-up for fics, LOL! This is F I L T H. It's "Daddy Joel", "Uncle Tommy" and "Uncle Ezra."

oral (m & f receiving), fingering, p-in-v, creampie

special thanks to : @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the idea and @toxicanonymity for 'Uncle Tommy' and also @iamasaddie for sharing a Tommy photo this morning. We're all going to burn in hell together. 🙏😘

++++++++++++++

“Uncle Tommy and Uncle Ezra are downstairs watchin TV,” says Joel. “Why don’t you go join ‘em and I’ll meet you there in a minute, alright?” He stomps over to the fridge, thoroughly dismissing you.

The two men’s eyes light up as you make your way down into the basement. The room is small and cramped. The walls are wood panels and the floors are cold concrete. There’s a wall of boxes on one side of the room next to a computer desk. The computer is off and the monitor is black. You’ve seen Uncle Ezra use it the most, selling electronics on eBay and watching funny videos. Anytime Uncle Tommy was around, he was lounging on the couch, much like he is now, with a beer in his hand.

“Hey there, sugar,” greets Tommy as he puts his beer down on the coffee table in front of the TV. “How ya been?”

“Fine,” you say, shifting awkwardly. You look at the thick, plush couch, unsure where to sit. The recliner is open, but you know that’s Joel’s. 

Ezra finishes his beer and tosses the can into the trash by the computer desk. It’s close enough to be difficult to miss. “You wanna come sit down, baby?” asks Ezra, patting the space between him and Tommy. “Uncle Tommy and I were just watchin the game.”

“O-okay,” you respond and follow suit. You can feel their hungry eyes watching you. Your skin burns. You keep your legs in close and your arms are crossed protectively over your stomach. You feel your shoulders up by your ears. There’s dampness between your thighs.

“Ain’t seen you in a while,” says Tommy as he shifts closer to you. “Joel been keepin you all to himself, huh?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. 

“Yeah, that’s Joel for you.” Ezra chuckles, his eyes lingering on your body. “I find his possessiveness unnecessary, though Uncle Ezra understands why he would be wary to allow his pretty pet to wander without her leash.” His warm, calloused hand finds the bare skin of your thigh. His thumb rubs back and forth. “She is quite the prize, don’t you think?” he says. “Uncle Tommy?”

Tommy grins. “She’s somethin special,” he murmurs, his body shifting closer.

You feel crowded. The heat from their bodies, the smell of beer on their breath, ‘Uncle’ Ezra’s hand gently stroking your thigh. The ache in your cunt.

“Curious,” Ezra says as he scoots next to you, causing you to gasp for air as his body is now pressed along the entirety of your left side. 

“What’s that?” says Tommy, whose eyes are locked onto your face, studying your every response and expression. His own hand finds your other leg, smoothing up and down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the billowing heat between your legs. 

“Curious as to what or … who–” Ezra traced his nose along your temple. “–could have swayed Joel’s selfish nature.” He hums and it’s as if your entire body vibrates in harmony with his vocal chords. “He is not a man to acquiesce easily.”

“What? You think she asked for it this time?” Tommy eyes you curiously. His hand slides from your thigh, cupping your mound over your shorts. You feel his amusement as you tense and gasp with your eyes closed. “Wasn’t us just beggin for a taste?”

Ezra smiles. “Little pets get hungry, too, Uncle Tommy.” Ezra’s finger glides along the bottom of your chin. You open your eyes to see his, hazy and warm, looking back at you. “This one looks ravenous.”

“Only one way to know for sure,” says Tommy, biting his lower lip. He slips his hand under the waistband of your shorts and you tilt your hips forward instinctively, guiding his searching fingers to their imminent goal. You moan as two fingers graze your entrance before sliding between your folds. Tommy laughs. “Oh yeah,” he says, lightly toying with your clit. “She’s starving.”

“Is she now?” says Ezra. “Methinks Uncle Ezra wants a taste, as well.” His mouth finds your neck as his hand finds your breast. His teeth gnaw into your skin–his tongue laving. His fingers dig into your flesh. You feel his hard cock pressed against your side.

You gasp and moan, overwhelmed by the sensations. By their body heat blanketing your sides. The TV is on low and in the back of your mind, you can hear Joel stomping around upstairs. You don’t know how he’ll react when he finds out the two men have begun without him. You don’t know what to say. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. And you really really don’t want to.

“Let’s get ‘er out of these clothes, Uncle Ez,” says Tommy.

“Don’t know why she bothers wearin anything anyway,” says Ezra.

The two men strip you like a doll. Ready and eager to play with you how they please.

Goosebumps rise on your skin briefly before they’re back on you. Ezra sucks on your nipples, toys with your breasts. Tommy’s hand stays between your legs. He slides a finger inside of you, slowly breaching your entrance and pushing it as deep in as he can. He wriggles it around a couple times then pulls it back out, spreading your slick around your lips. Your skin sticks to the pleather of the couch. You can’t bring yourself to check, but you’re certain there’s a wet spot beneath you, glistening in the bright light of the TV.

“Think he’ll let us fuck ‘er this time?” asks Tommy.

Ezra pulls back from your breast. His lips are plush and wet. He hums. “Let’s see what she wants.” His eyes find yours. “What do you think, baby? Hmm?” His eyebrows are high in his forehead. “You want Uncle Ezra and Uncle Tommy to fuck you? You want us to put our cocks in that tight little hole?”

Tommy laughs and plunges two fingers inside of you, stroking your walls, making you writhe and gasp. “I think she likes the idea.”

Ezra chuckles. “I think so, too,” he says. “I think she wants Uncle Ezra and Uncle Tommy to stuff her full and leave her hurtin.” He grins. “I wonder how long it would take for her muscles to recover from such a pleasurable incident.”

“Weeks, prob’ly,” Tommy groans, pressing his hardness into your side. “If we do it right.”

“How’s that sound, baby?” asks Ezra, his lips pressed against your cheek as his fingers pluck your nipples. “Want Uncle Ezra and Uncle Tommy to tear up your little pussy?”

“HEY!” A loud bellow stops everyone in their tracks.

Your eyes open wide to see Joel stomping down the staircase. He’s wearing the same jeans and denim button-up as earlier, but it looks like he’s combed his hair back and away from his face. 

“What the hell is goin on?”

“Oh, come on, Joel,” moans Tommy, his fingers no longer curling inside of you. “What’d you expect?”

“I expected you to fuckin wait,” he snarls. “Two grown goddamn men can’t keep it together for five fuckin minutes.”

Ezra began. “If you would, please, Joel, give audience to our–”

“Don’t you fuckin start with me.” Joel points at Ezra. “I don’t have time for your fuckin diatribes.”

Ezra rolls his eyes with tight lips.

Joel doesn’t say anything else. He simply kneels in front of you and tugs your hips forward, tossing your legs over his shoulders. His mouth latches onto you. He tongues and sucks your pussy lips, flicking over your clit and diving into your entrance. His tongue is moving so fast and his fingers are bruising your skin.

You stare down at him with your eyelids barely open. Your mouth is open and moaning.

Joel slaps his brother on the leg and gestures at you. 

Tommy sighs. “Oh, thank god,” he murmurs. 

Out of the corner of your vision, you see Tommy stand up and unzip his jeans. He pulls his pants and underwear off completely before climbing back up on the couch, standing haphazardly on the cushions.

“Alright, sugar.” He says with a grin. “Open up for Uncle Tommy.”

You comply, not sure how you’re going to maintain your focus with Joel eating you out so voraciously. 

Tommy slides the tip of his cock back and forth on your tongue, before tapping it a few times. You keep waiting for him to shove the whole thing in–you’re braced for it. Readying your throat. But instead he teases you, teases himself. Tommy holds your head in place and you flick the tip of your tongue onto whatever surface of his cock that he’ll give you. 

Your mouth stays open and you can feel saliva spilling out the edges of your mouth. You’re getting hungry for it. Desperate for him to fill your mouth and throat. You try to push your head forward and suck it in already, but Tommy’s grip is tight.

He laughs. “What’d you say, Uncle Ez?” He taps your tongue with his cock. “Ravenous?”

Ezra chuckles, his hands groping your breasts while Joel is still between your legs. “Downright famished for some cock, isn’t she?”

“It would appear so,” says Tommy, mocking Ezra’s cadence.

You start panting, your body trembling. Heat is building up from between your legs and quickly. Joel’s tongue works against your clit with a wet clocking sound. He’s a silhouette in front of the bright light of the TV. Your orgasm hits you like a punch and you keen loudly–just in time for Tommy to finally fill your mouth.

“Kinda tickles,” says Tommy, laughing at you while you moan on the comedown.

Joel pulls his mouth away from you. “Hurry up and get whatcha can,” he says to the two men. “‘Cause once I start fuckin’ her, you’re not gettin anythin else.”

Ezra’s eyes go wide and he rushes to remove his pants. Tommy’s satisfied enough to glide his cock in and out of your sloppy mouth. 

Ezra settles himself between your thighs. He holds his cock, thick as a can of Coca-Cola, against your entrance. He moves it around in tight circles to help stretch you out. “Uncle Ezra has been dreaming of this day, precious,” he says, licking his lips. “Dreaming of–” he thrusts in a little. “--sinking myself into this–” he thrusts in a little more. “--hot, wet hole.” He pushes himself in deeper and deeper and slowly more deeper until he’s in you, full-hilt. He looks up at Tommy. “So hot and wet,” he grins. “She’s tropical.”

Tommy and Ezra start laughing. You can’t see Joel, but you hear him huff.

Your body is exploding in pleasure from Ezra’s slow strokes against your stretched out walls. It didn’t take long for the hurt to give way to warm goodness. You’ve been so focused on sucking off Tommy that your jaw and neck are sore and aching. Your fingers are braced into the cushion beneath you as you try to maintain some kind of composure, lest you sink into the couch and away from Tommy’s salty member.

You get lost in the haze of Ezra’s thrusts and the taste of Tommy. Fire and sparks dance across your skin and you can feel a second orgasm building up inside of you. For a moment, your breasts feel cold and bare, but Ezra leans forward and begins sucking the skin of your neck. Ezra begins murmuring filth as his thrusts pick up in pace. 

“Uncle Ezra takes good care of you, don’t he?”

“You like Uncle Ezra’s big cock?”

“You want some of Uncle Ezra’s hot seed?”

Your second orgasm hits hard and Ezra has to quickly pull out. He pants and moans as he jerks himself off and finishes on your stomach. He falls to the side of the couch with a dazed look in his eyes.

“My turn,” Tommy grins and pulls himself from your mouth. 

But as he begins to situate himself between your legs, he’s interrupted.

“Too late,” says Joel. 

Tommy curses.

Joel shrugs at his brother. “Y’all took too long.” He stands up from the recliner, still fully clothed but his pants are tented. He walks over to your limp body. “Come on,” he says and pulls you up, guiding you back over to where he was before.

You stand on shaky legs while Joel unzips his pants and pulls them down his thighs. He plops into the recliner and pulls you on top of him. For how thick Ezra is, Joel is thicker. You slide down his length with a whimper. 

“That what you needed, baby?” He coos with soft eyes as he rolls his hips upward. “You needed Daddy Joel?” He asks with a nod.

You nod back, relishing in the feeling of Joel inside of you. Your hands cradle his face, thumbs scraping along his scruff. You lean in and kiss him, hot and heavy. He moans into your mouth. You glide your hips up and down, stroking his length with your wet cunt. His broad hands are your asscheeks, tugging and pulling your flesh apart as you slowly ride him. His mouth tastes so good, you wanna swallow him whole. 

You hear Tommy jerking off behind you. He and Ezra are murmuring low to each other on the couch. You wonder if Ezra is jerking off, too. You like to think he is.

Joel pulls back and stares into your eyes. “Come on, baby. Bounce on Daddy Joel’s cock. Come on.” He punctuates with a smack on your ass. You pick up the pace. “Daddy Joel loves his baby’s sweet little pussy,” he groans and smacks your ass again. “Gonna fill that pussy up,” he grunts. He starts thrusting upwards into you, meeting your bouncing hips. “Gonna make a big ol’ mess o’ that tiny little pussy, baby.” 

“Daddy Joel’s gonna fill you up–gonna fill you up,” he groans and his fingers dig bruises into your ass. 

Your body is a blur of pleasure and movements and hot sparkling heat expanding and billowing out until it’s so so tight and then it SNAPS–your cunt clenching around Joel’s cock as he comes in thick, heavy spurts inside of you.

He groans, long and low as he continues to roll his hips. His come trickling out the edges of your used pussy as you sit in his lap. “Good girl,” he sighs and brings a hand to your breast to pinch and tease your nipple. “Good little pussy.”

You don’t hear the two other men behind you, so you assume they finished, too. You’re briefly disappointed you didn’t get to fully experience Uncle Tommy’s cock, but it was enough to taste it. 

You curl into Joel’s chest as he wraps his arms around you and kisses your crown.

++++

Author's Note: NO ONE LOOK AT ME !!!!!

[afu-uasi-hp-contractors]

Beware in Tarrant County: The Afu Uasi and HP Concrete Lawsuit Exposed

In the vibrant heart of the Dallas, Texas metroplex, particularly within Tarrant County, a legal battle unfolds that serves as a cautionary tale for homeowners and businesses alike. Afu Uasi and his operation under the guise of HP Concrete have become the focal point of a lawsuit that alleges a disturbing pattern of scamming practices, shedding light on the darker side of the construction industry.

A Trust Betrayed: The Case at Hand The lawsuit stems from the experiences of a Tarrant County homeowner who sought the expertise of Afu Uasi and HP Concrete for a home improvement project. With promises of quality workmanship, timely completion, and competitive pricing, Uasi won the trust and the upfront payment of the unsuspecting client. However, as weeks turned into months, it became painfully clear that the promises made were empty, leaving the homeowner with an incomplete project and a sense of betrayal.

The Pattern of Deception What makes this case particularly alarming is the revelation that this is not an isolated incident. Afu Uasi, operating under HP Concrete, has allegedly engaged in similar deceptive practices across the Dallas metroplex. By accepting payments without delivering the promised work, Uasi has left a trail of dissatisfaction and financial loss. The lawsuit aims not only to seek justice for the affected homeowner but also to expose the recurring theme of misconduct associated with Uasi and his business.

Changing Names to Dodge Accountability Investigations into Afu Uasi's business practices have unveiled a concerning strategy: the frequent changing of business names to evade negative reviews and legal accountability. From HP Concrete to other aliases, this chameleon-like tactic complicates efforts to warn potential clients and hold Uasi accountable, highlighting the challenges faced by those seeking to navigate the home improvement and construction landscape safely.

A Call to the Community The lawsuit against Afu Uasi and HP Concrete is more than just a legal battle; it's a wake-up call to homeowners in Tarrant County and the broader Dallas metroplex. It underscores the importance of due diligence before engaging contractors for home improvement projects. Prospective clients are urged to research extensively, verify references, and demand transparency to protect themselves from falling victim to similar scams.

Staying Vigilant: A Shared Responsibility The unfolding lawsuit is a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities homeowners face when entrusting their projects to contractors. As the community awaits the outcome, the case of Afu Uasi and HP Concrete serves as a critical lesson in the importance of vigilance, thorough vetting, and community awareness in safeguarding against fraudulent practices.

Final Thoughts: A United Front Against Fraud As Tarrant County watches closely, the hope is that this lawsuit will not only bring justice to the affected homeowner but also catalyze a movement towards greater accountability and transparency in the construction and home improvement industry. Together, by sharing knowledge and supporting one another, the community can build a stronger defense against those who seek to exploit trust for personal gain.

[epiclamer]

Can you please write a whumper to caretaker snippet please h Im sorryr please h

Anon— are you okay???

Disgrace

The villain had sworn that next time Sidekick showed up in their base, they’d kill them. Strip them of their dignity and pride and humiliate them in front of their team—if not the entire world. They would torture them every single day and berate them to no end.

Villain promised that they would suffer; and now they were seated here in front of them.

Shaking like a leaf in their bonds, one foot caught and clamped in what looked like a new age bear trap, was Sidekick. Doing their best to mask the pain in their leg while attempting to seem aloof.

“So. You little heroes think that because I let you off the hook once I’ll do it again?” Villain drummed their fingers rhythmically against the metal table they lounged at. Eye to eye with their captive.

“Villain I-I swear that’s not—”

“Save your sorry excuses. I warned you, Sidekick. Yet here you are again…”

From the sidekick’s view, the villain looked almost disappointed, as if killing them was going to be a nuisance to clean up, not that killing someone would be on their conscious for life. Sidekick was going to puke or pass out, they weren’t sure. All they knew was that either their foot would be amputated by morning or their head would be.

“P-Please, Villain, I told them— I-I said that you’d kill me if they sent me in and, and they knew— They would never do this on purpose I-I swear—”

At that, Villains gaze darkened, something horrible brewing behind their eyes. Quietly, they opened the bag they had entered with, a high quality, leather satchel and in it, a computer.

They flipped the screen open and tapped away at it for a second while Sidekick contemplated begging for their life once more. But before they could open their mouth, Villain spun the computer screen around, angling it so the contents were visible to the sidekick.

It was a video.

A body-cam video. Specifically, Teammate’s body-cam—since they were the only one not in the picture besides the sidekick. A lump formed horribly in their throat, why was their team having meetings without them? How had Villain gotten the tape? Were the others here too?

Too many questions flooded the up and coming hero’s head at once, adrenaline pumping through their body and filling their lungs until they couldn’t breathe. They were having a panic attack. In front of Villain.

Gods, they were so pathetic. Hero always hated when they cried like a baby, slapping them to get them to shut up and part of them wished the villain would now too. It would at least allow them to get a hold of their spiralling and the pain would be familiar, if not comforting.

“Sidekick.” Their name cut through the haze of panic as they gasped for air. “Look at me.” Villain’s hands were on their shoulders, shaking them roughly and they winced when their foot jostled. Snapping back to reality at the pain just in time to see the villain’s worried face staring back.

Worried? They must’ve been mistaken. They were an enemy. Hero had warned them about Villain and their cruelty, they had no remorse for heroes. That included Sidekick.

Carefully, the criminal smoothed the sweaty hair from Sidekick’s face, wiping away the blood and tears that covered their cheeks with a gentle hand like none other. No one had ever touched the sidekick so kindly before, it hurt their brain to picture it was coming from the one that had threatened to skin them alive last week, and they had to refrain from leaning into the touch entirely.

Villain stepped back, catching their softness with the other, before returning to their seat. Allowing a moment of rest for the sidekick to regroup, then the villain continued.

“If your team supposedly had nothing to do with your capture, then explain this.”

They tapped the spacebar and the video jumped to a start. Volume turned loud enough to echo slightly off the concrete walls around them.

“Think about it.” Came Hero’s crackling voice over the footage, in their hand they held the device currently trapped to Sidekick’s foot. “It would get them out of our hair for at least a week. Villain wouldn’t kill them, they’re practically still a kid, Villain has stronger morals than that.”

The rest of the group looked uneasy, silence stretching for another opinion to take place.

“Sidekick said that Villain swore to kill them next time—”

“And when was the last time Sidekick was right about something? Anything for that matter. They’ve led us straight into traps “due to their miscalculations”. Besides, I’ve known Villain the longest and they wouldn’t do anything like that.”

To Sidekick’s surprise, their team looked more reassured after that statement. “It was only once…” they whispered under their breath, defending their reputation to a crowd that would never hear them.

Hero groaned at the lack of compliance from the rest of the group. “Look, just three days ago they tripped over their own feet and sprained their ankle. That cost us medical supplies and precious time, imagine we didn’t have to deal with those losses.”

The heroes began nodding in unison, weighing their options. Less and less favourable to the sidekick’s survival.

“It was an accident…” Sidekick’s voice cracked and they hated the slight pity in the look Villain gave them.

“Not only that but they’re always complaining about needing a prescription refill for their medication or whatever. Nagging constantly about not being able to go on missions without it.”

In truth, Sidekick figured it was their inhaler that was being referenced. It was expensive to buy it and the agency promised to cover it with insurance, but they hardly ever did. It was starting to cut into their food rations with how much it cost and how many times they had to use it daily on missions. But it kept them alive, without it they would die and if they kept paying for it, soon enough they wouldn’t be able to buy their basic necessities.

“I have asthma, I-I need it to go running a-and fighting on missions…” They filled the question for the curious looking villain, who raised their eyebrows slightly in response before turning back to the video.

“When they completed their task force, their average was a minute forty per challenge.” Hero paused for what could only be dramatic effect. “The average among us, you might ask? One minute. On the dot.”

A clamour of voices spilled from speakers, multiple in agreement, finally deciding to use the sidekick as their sacrificial lamb all because they were too much to handle. Not because they sucked at their job, but because the other heroes found them annoying.

Sidekick shattered. Their heart breaking into a million different pieces, throat burning, eyes stinging with a new ferocity and heart beating like a jackhammer.

Villain closed the screen and the audio was cut short, they slipped it back into their satchel and sat patiently while Sidekick sobbed. Trying and failing to hide their face as their arms were tied tightly behind their back. They wanted anything but to have to look at the villain while they cried and they were sure Villain would exploit this moment later.

They didn’t know how long it was until they quieted down, reduced to heaving sniffles and the occasional outburst. Whether it came from the pain in their foot or the pain in their heart, Sidekick had no idea, they didn’t honestly care, this was the first time they’d been able to let all their emotions out in peace and it felt incredible.

When the young hero was in enough control to only hiccup every few seconds, Villain stood up, walking around the table and over to the other as they knelt down. Sidekick flinched, body too exhausted to try and remain collected, if the villain wanted to hurt them now then so be it. The day couldn't get any worse.

But they didn’t, the criminal knelt down and delicately they untied the sidekick, from their wrists down to their good ankle. Standing back up to see the shock portrayed in Sidekick's body language as they reached for their face to wipe their tears once more.

Wordlessly, once they were done wiping the sidekick’s face, they hoisted them into their arms in an attempted bridal carry. When Sidekick whimpered and sobbed against their shoulder, Villain only shushed them sweetly, leaving the room with them in their arms as the sidekick began to cry again.

They clung to the villain like a lifeline, crying out the hidden truths behind their so-called teammates' lies. Especially Hero.

Especially their mentor.

“T-the average time f-for sidekicks is two minutes.” Weakly they squeezed the villain’s shoulder in anger. “I-I was the t-top of my class and, and, and Hero— was just j-jealous because they never were.”

Villain shushed them again, reassuring the other as they spoke.

“T-they told me every time I-I messed up that t-they would hurt me b-because I deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve it--”

“I-I didn’t deserve it. T-they just wanted m-my performance t-to lower so I wouldn’t t-take their spot—” Sidekick seethed, "T-they whipped me, t-they beat me, they e-even w-waterboarded me, when t-they knew it was my biggest f-fear."

They wheezed, squeezing their eyes shut as they cursed under their breath at the pain in their foot. It was becoming unbearable. All to find out Hero was the one who placed it. That only made it hurt more.

"I-I was pronounced d-dead for a minute and a half-- a-all because they w-wouldn't bring my head u-up when I begged." Sidekick gasped, shaking hands prying at the villain's suit. "I b-begged for my fucking life a-and they still w-wouldn't listen--"

The criminal kicked open a new door, nothing like a cell one and took them both inside. Past hallways and storage closets until they reached an empty room with a free bed. “I know, I know. It’s okay, you’re safe now, okay?”

Sidekick shook, crying, laughing and hyperventilating all at once, it felt like their whole world was coming apart; the people they loved and cared for, everything they knew, all their training, all their hard work. Just to end up deep in the Villain's lair, an inescapable trap--placed by their own teammates--clamped on their worsening foot, an enemy comforting them and a betrayal worse than death destroying them from the inside out.

[sweetandgentlecreature]

The Old Ball and Chain

Authors Note: So, uh…Was laying down to go to bed and had a thought. Definitely not quite my usual content, so I’m not going to add my taglist just in case this is too heavy for some readers. (Can you tell what part of my cycle I’m in?)

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Warnings: Simulated Dubcon, Bondage, Brief mentions of fingering (female receiving), and Unprotected p-in-v sex. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Time passes slowly when you can’t see the clock on the wall, ticking down to an undetermined amount of time spent on the bench. Ass hanging off of the edge, knees bent, ankles shackled and held aloft by cold chains anchored to the outside of the plywood partition. The hole is just wide enough for my bottom half to fit through, the opening carefully carved and wrapped in foam and leather for my comfort. Wouldn’t want to get a splinter, of course.

The room is dim and cold. Goosebumps dance and scamper up and down my arms, and I can’t tell if I’m shivering through the cold or in anticipation for what’s to come. Soon, the unmistakable sound of tires tracking through gravel tells me what I need to know. The engine comes to a stop just outside of the door, followed by heavy foot falls crunching their way up the path. My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow hard to calm my anxious nerves. The door opens as he steps inside, then closes with a heavy thud behind him. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. That’s not a part of the agreement anyway. Ragged breath from the heaving chest of the beast on the other side of the wall paints a picture in my mind. He’s been thinking about this all day.

Rubber boot soles thud across the concrete floor with each determined stride, until he stands (what I presume is) before me. Slow, deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth pour over my bare skin and light me ablaze. When I close my eyes, I imagine the look on his face. Brow furrowed, eyes dark with lust, sizing me up as I lay open for him like a feast to be devoured.

He touches me, warm, calloused fingertips pressing at the inside of my knees to open them wider as he takes his stance between them. Still quiet, still focused, he runs them up my thigh, nice and slow, until they reach their sticky and sweet destination. I gasp as the crassness of his ministrations when I feel him pinch the lips of my quivering pussy between his forefinger and thumb, not too hard, just enough to bring my wetness to the surface. My cup runneth over and spills to the floor with the pitter-patter of a soft summer rain. Heat rises in my face, but before I can react, he slides a thick finger through my petals to collect the nectar, then slips it inside of me.

The intrusion, albeit a surprise thanks to the division between us, is a welcomed one, and I hum in delight as he explores. It’s a test, and it seems that I’ve passed when he takes it away again. My heart pounds in my chest and rings in my ears as I wait for his next move. Digging my nails into the wood beneath me, the anticipation is almost too much to stand, when… no. Surely he isn’t…but then he does it again. Slow, deep, and heavy, he takes another breath, then sighs in relief. I close my eyes when I hear him suck his fingers clean. I must be good enough to eat.

The rattle of what I can only guess is his belt loosening makes me shutter, followed by the soft pop of the button and the slow downward zip of his fly. He parts my swollen lips with the tip of his cock, hot and heavy against my eager flesh as he slides it through my folds to collect more wetness. One hand holds my leg as the other is braced against the partition as he brings it down to slowly insert himself inside of me.

It’s a snug fit, and the sting of the stretch to fit around him is delicious. A breathy little moan escapes my dry, parted lips as he settles inside of me. He’s patient enough to let me adjust, but the man is no saint. It’s not long before he draws himself out again, then thrusts inside once more. Again and again, slow at first but quickly gaining momentum, the chains that hold me aloft rattle against the board with each drive of his hips against mine. He chooses the tempo, and I buck my hips up to meet it.

Hard, harder, harder; fast, faster, faster, he keeps going. His breath is uneven and ragged as he seeks out his climax. My thighs tremble around him, toes flexing and curling with each deep thrust until I’m seeing stars. Just when I think I can’t take any more, he grunts, loud and thunderous as he comes undone. buried to the hilt deep inside of me. He stills, hands trembling as they support beneath my knees, and he doesn’t move until he’s finished. Sweat drips from my nose and I wipe it away with the back of my hand as he pulls away, leaving me full of his spent and dripping onto the table beneath me. My body aches, and pin-prickles burn the soles of my feet as I wiggle my toes for relief. Just then, the hinges of the barrier between us squeak as he drops the top half down to peer at me from his side of the wall.

“Fuck, baby. That was better than I ever imagined it could be.”

Nimble fingers work to loosen the snares on my ankles one by one, and he catches my feet, lowering them slowly to lessen the strain as I sit upright again. Giggling softly, I brush my sweat-dampened hair from my eyes.

“It was fun, wasn’t it?”

For weeks, we’d been practicing. Endless midnight conversations about the ins and outs of how this would work, evenings after work spent in the shop crafting the perfect platform to suit our needs. All of it leading up to the big show, and now it was over.

Sy grabs my foot, then the other, and begins massaging life back into them again. Once he’s done, he disappears to the sink in the corner of the garage to wet a wash rag with warm water to clean us up again. I wince as he glides it between my legs, but only for a moment, when he drops to his knees to get a better look. Rough whisker kisses brush along the inside of my thighs as he slowly works his way down, humming softly to himself as he takes his sweet time.

“You did so good,” he croons, beaming with pride as he takes care to wipe up the mess he’d left behind. With one final swipe, he tosses the rag towards the sink again and buried his head between my knees to make me shutter once more.

When his eyes meet mine, through a bramble of thick, dark lashes, I know that this is far from over. He smiles as he nuzzles against my mound, just as insatiable as the day we met. We share a silent truth in that moment, one that needs no words. I wouldn’t want him any other way.

“Happy Anniversary, Darlin’.”

[hg-aneh]

what do you think will happen in season 2 of good omens? Also since we all know crowley and aziraphale love each other, how do you think they'll get together like how will they'll realize they were meant to be (sorry that sounds corny)

Anyway sorry for bothering you i just like to hear others opinions on this topic ♡

I was very tempted to just say "wait and see", GOD 😭

Ahem, well. Since we don't really know anything about the plot (besides a few keypoints like the cardboard box, the anonymous amnesiac angel and Muriel), I don't feel informed enough to make an actual concrete guess

I will say, however that I do believe they already know they are meant to be. The thermos was Aziraphale's way of telling Crowley so. They're aware they're at least fond of one another

The only thing preventing them from being closer was the watchful eye(s) of Heaven and Hell

Now that that's out of the way, I believe we will finally see them inching closer to one another somehow. However that may happen, again, I have no idea

[ I will say though, that Crowley does seem more inclined to invade Aziraphale's space now (the way he LEANS into him in what little we have seen from s2 (the clip stills), the fact he appears to be moving his plants into the bookshop (bts pictures + t h e c l i p )), and Aziraphale appears to be perfectly fine with this, so maybe they have already gone through the steps of sort of getting together-?]

[nanamisflowerfield]

Moonlit Meetings, Conversations And A Promise (Dick Grayson x f!Reader)

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Nightwing meets the Reader on a rooftop, talking and joking around with her, while watching the stars. Their second encounter turns to one of many others. And in the meantime, Reader meets Officer Dick Grayson and falls in love with him, not knowing that him - Nightwing - starts falling head over heels in love with her as well.

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(Y/N) always thought of Blüdhaven to be boring, but when she met a certain black-haired vigilante that saved her live in a dark warehouse, the investigative journalist changed her mind. The city was better than she had expected.

But there was one thing that she always had loved. Even before meeting Nightwing or the interesting officer. It was the night sky.

Every night, the (h/c) woman climbed fire stairs of her apartment up, to sit on the rooftop, watching the bright stars that shined up in the dark night sky. A beautiful sight.

And like every day and night, the city of Blüdhaven continued its restless rhythm, just like the journalist, who found herself drawn to the rooftop.

As the moon cast its glow, Nightwing descended gracefully, drawn to the figure on the rooftop. The sound of his boots landing softly on the concrete alerted (Y/N) to his presence. It has been a week since they have met. She turned slowly, but offered a warm smile, when she noticed the vigilante.

“Hey, Nightwing. What brings you here?” she asked, the stars reflected in her (e/c) eyes.

“Just checking in on my favorite investigative journalist,” Nightwing replied with a playful smirk that graced his lips.

(Y/N) chuckled, “Flattery will get you everywhere, but be careful. You might give Clark Kent a run for his money in the charm department.”

The man in front of you only raised his eyebrow, smirk still on its place, before he shook his head. You only turned back to the stars, watching them and hearing the footsteps of the vigilante, who stood now next to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air aaand….” You pointed to the streets. “… for this. The view is just wonderful.” He nodded, leaning on the fences of the rooftop. “How are you doing, Knight-In-Tight-Spandex?” Nightwing couldn’t stop himself, as he laughed at his new nickname. “Really?” You only shrugged your shoulders, smiling to yourself.

“Well… I’m tired.” You only hummed, knowing that feeling to well to be so damn tired. After all, you were always tired due to your job, but you loved it and would never give it up so easily. Just like the man next to you. “A coffee could help.”

The blackhead only nodded, “Yeah. I might need to get one as soon as possible. Gotta go… See ya, journalist.” – “It’s (Y/N). And bye, Sir Spandex.”

You watched him jump down and swinging through the lighted streets, while you smiled at him, not knowing that this little encounter was one of many others.

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You sipped on your hot beverage, nearly burning your tongue as you were too impatient to wait for it to get colder. You walked past a couple, nearly bumping into them, but you were stubborn and didn’t gave up your beverage and your notepad that you held tightly in your fists. Your steps got faster and faster, just wanting to reach the place and here you were.

The newest crime scene of Blüdhaven.

And there were a bunch of cops and of course more journalists. Great.

With a sigh, you tried to squeeze yourself through the large crowd that has gathered in front of the place. All of them wanted to know what was has happened. Just like you were. But perhaps you were too weak or these tall damn idiots were too strong, as you couldn’t get too far into the crowd. Your fingers went through your hair, messing them up, but not caring at all, while your gaze moved around until you found a small gap, far away from everyone.

Sneakily, you tried to walk to the gap, until you heard someone clearing their throat. You turned around, eyes moving from a chest up to the person’s face to only notice him. The officer that you met last week! “Long time no see, (L/N).” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Nervously, you scratched your neck, letting out a small laugher. “Heeey, there… Uhmm…” – “Officer Dick Grayson.”

Now you finally had a name for this handsome face.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N) from the Blüdhaven Bulletin.” You raised your arm, shaking his hand as he nodded his head, already knowing you due to your big headline. “Uhm right… You already know me.”

He shook his head, chuckling at you. The sun dipped on him, making him look so much more attractive than he already was. Damn…

“So,” He started while glancing into your eyes with his beautiful ocean blue eyes, “when are you going to interview Nightwing? I’m already excited to read more of your work.” He leaned now on a wall, closing the small gap that you wanted to use.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I'm not sure he's the interview type. Besides, he's a bit… elusive?”

Dick grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You might be surprised. He's got a soft spot for determined journalists.”

Determined… That’s what you were indeed. He surely wasn’t the first one to describe you as determined.

Their eyes met, and smiles blossomed on their faces. The world around them seemed to fade into the background as they engaged in easy banter, laughing and joking as if they had known each other for years. The chemistry between them was undeniable, forging a connection that defied explanation.

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Days turned into weeks, and your encounters with the police officer Dick Grayson became more frequent. You'd bump into him at crime scenes, exchange banter, and slowly, a connection formed. He admired your determination, your refusal to back down, and you found solace in his easygoing nature.

And at nights, on your lovely and chill rooftop, you would meet up with Nightwing. The joking vigilante, that loved to tease you, while you sipped on your hot drinks. And the masked man would drink the coffee you would make in your apartment for him. It had become a routine for her to bring him a cup of coffee, a gesture of friendship and an excuse to spend more time together. (Y/N) often found herself meeting Nightwing even when she was clad in her pajamas and messy hair, her vulnerability laid bare. The vigilante would chuckle, appreciating her carefree nature and admiring her even more for her willingness to be herself around him.

As many nights unfolded, you and Nightwing shared stories, dreams, and laughter.

Little did you know that beneath the mask, Dick Grayson harbored a secret of his own. More than just one…

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Small POV change…

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As their friendship grew deeper, the more felt Dick conflicted. He had always been drawn to Batgirl, their on-and-off relationship reflecting their complex connection. Yet, as he spent more time with (Y/N), a sweet but sassy journalist, he couldn't deny the feelings he had for her.

Dick knew that he cared for (Y/N) in a way that surpassed friendship. Her laughter, her support, and her understanding gaze made his heart skip beats. Something that Barbara couldn’t do. But he was with the redhead. Someone he always knew.

His hands rubbed over his masked eyes, while being deep in thoughts.

The quiet night sky hung above the city, countless stars gracing them. It truly was a beautiful sight. The only thing that could have been heard were a few cars and… footsteps?

“A penny for your thoughts?” The woman he was thinking about stood there, in one hand, two steaming cups and with the other hand a dollar and a mischievous glint in her (e/c) eyes.

Nightwing looked at her irritated. A dollar? A small chuckle left his lips.

He teased back, “You know, you're supposed to give me a penny, not a dollar.”

“Sorry, I don't have a penny with me. Also... I wanted to see you smile.”

Nightwing laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. “You're something else, (Y/N).” – “I know.”

They stood there, leaning on the fence, gazes up high towards the bright stars that shined their lights on the two. “I… I need your advice.” He whispered under his breath, surprising both of them. “You have a problem?” He nods.

“I'm in a bit of a situation…” He admitted, hand going through his dark locks. “I'm with my ex again… We kinda have this on-and-off-relationship, but there's someone else I can't stop thinking about. She is great and funny. Sweet… At times.” He chuckled to himself, describing the one person that stood next to him. “She is amazing… And I think that I might like her more than well… My current girlfriend… I'm not sure what to do.” She glanced down to her cup, the hot drink bringing her warmth at the cold weather.

She considered his words carefully. “Love is a complicated thing, but you deserve to be with someone who makes you truly happy. So uhm… You should follow your heart. If you're falling for someone else, it's not fair to your girlfriend or yourself to stay in a relationship that doesn't feel right. She is smart. She will notice is sooner or later, that you won’t love her as much as she loves you. Maybe…” She gulps and glanced up to the vigilante, who listened to every word that escaped her lips.

“… Maybe… You have to break up with her. But it’s your decision. Just follow your heart and everything will be alright.” She leaned towards him, bumping him lightly with her shoulder, as his lips turned up and formed a small smile.

“I trust that you will male the right choice.” (Y/N) said, sipping her drink. “But promise me one thing.”

His eyes moved to her. (e/c) eyes meeting masked ones. “Promise me, that you will do something about your little problem and don’t just shove it away. You have to confront it.” Of course, she would say that.

“I want you to solve your problem within this week.”

Nightwing’s eyes widen at her. What did she just say?

“Within this week, I want you to talk to your girlfriend and either break up with her and confess to your new lover or ask her out oooor… You know… Try to stop having feeling for the other girl and focus on your girlfriend. You have a week, Nightwing. Make it count. I just hope that it works out, I mean… on-and-off-relationship? Uff… That’s hard, buddy.”

The vigilante only started laughing, knowing that she was trying to cheer him up with small jokes and comments that she threw in here and there. Nightwing's eyes held a mixture of gratitude and longing. “I promise.”

He cleared his throat, smirk plastered on his face. “What about you? Do you fancy someone?”

She nearly choked on her drink, coughing a little bit. “Uhhh… Why?” The vigilante only shrugged, looking at her interested.

“Urgh… Yeah… But if you will tell him, I will beat you up, okay? I’m not afraid of a guy in spandex.” He chuckled at her threat. “Sure. Now tell me!”

(E/C) eyes moved away from the tall man, ignoring his childish puppy dog eyes. “I know that you know him due to your work and all, so please don’t tell him…” Nightwing pretended to zip his mouth and lock it with an imaginary key, which he threw away.

“It’s… Officer Grayson.” She mumbled, drinking the rest of her drink and not noticing the smile on the black-haired man’s lips. “Let’s talk about uhhh… Dogs! Do you have one? Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t you dare to tease me, Nightwing!”

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With newfound determination and summoning his strength, Dick went to his girlfriend, Barbara Gordon. He walked the to her apartment in Gotham and when Dick has arrived, started rambling and trying to talk about things that were quite off topic, but the redhead knew that something was off. She knew Dick for a long time by now. “What’s wrong, Dick?” She finally asked and the black-haired man stood in front of her, taking a deep breath.

He had to decide.

And when he closed his eyes, his mind and heart yelled only one name. (Y/N) (L/N).

Gently, Dick confessed his feelings, that he felt in love with another woman and apologized to Barbara. As he was sitting on her couch, telling her how he met a journalist and everything that has happened, she smiled at him, shaking her head. To his surprise, she had sensed the change in his heart and had her own suspicions. “We both knew that it wouldn’t work out for us… But I’m happy that you found someone, Dick. Don’t worry. Please be happy, confess to her and don’t you dare to break her heart, because she sounds like a great woman.”

His head rose. “She is.”

And that’s how Dick Grayson kept his promise.

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Small POV change again…

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Meanwhile, you found yourself missing both Nightwing and Dick Grayson during the week. It was weird how both of them were gone, but perhaps… Work was just in the way… right? Yet, you carried on with your work. You had to.

On the last day of that week, you focused on capturing photos for an article. As you walked through the crime scene, a familiar voice caught you off guard. Officer Dick Grayson. Remembering the last conversation and the fact that you told an idiotic vigilante that you had indeed a crush on the mentioned officer – gaining many teasing comments from the damn vigilante – you glanced away from the tall and handsome man, taking another picture.

“Would you go out on a date with me?” You heard the voice ask, making you nearly drop your camera out of shock.

Surprised yet elated, you felt a warmth spread through you. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the realization hitting you like a punch in the face. Dick Grayson and Nightwing were gone at the same time. Both have the same appearance and their voices… They sound similar… Nightwing also has promised you that he will confess to or ask his crush out – well perhaps – depending on his choices… But he wanted to do it within this week! Could it be possible? No? Or maybe yes…

It wouldn’t surprise you, as your best friend was a superhero, so the chances of Dick Grayson being a vigilante are there… But you wouldn’t tell him about your little theory. It was just a theory and the chances of him were there but very small. There were after all, many people living in Blüdhaven…

Forget it. It wasn’t the time to think about it. You should start thinking about other things and finally give the man of your dreams an answer. A blush tinted your cheeks as you nodded, “I would love to.”

…

And later that same night, you were on the rooftop, heart jumping in excitement, as you heard footsteps. “Hey, there.” You turned to the man you were just thinking about.

He waved, a smile tugs on his lips as well. “Nightwing, did you ask out your crush?” She asked immediately, awaiting an answer.

Nightwing, leaning on the fence, taking the cup she held for him into his own. “Yes, I did. And she said yes.” His face showed you a mix of relief and joy. “I would never break a promise to you.”

You two smiled at each other, sipping on your drinks and talking about your week. A normal thing that you both did during a moonlit meeting in Blüdhaven at night.

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Masterlist ❀ DC Comics Masterlist ✿ City Lights and Secret Meetings Masterlist ❀ navigation

Reblogs, plot ideas, comments and a ko-fi are appreciated. ( ‘ω’ ) © nanamisflowerfield. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.

[rosekeu]

soft like a bunny : r. sukuna

this is part 1!

a/n: highschool au, fem!reader, reader has braces, shy+nerdy+sensitive reader! [if you don't like that then leave ig lol] soft spot for reader ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

sypnosis: looking for your sensei lead to you bumping into your bullies but luckily a feared first-year saves you from your torment!

【 playlist 】

[ part 2 ] [part 3] [ part 4 ] [ part 5 coming soon! ]

‘where are you gojo-sensei!?’ 

y/n l/n thought as she paced through the first year halls, she had been here before but she was unknown to her teachers schedule. leading her to get lost around the fairly big first year campus. y/n looked around anxiously, her eyes searching left and right for her teacher. 

“oi– what do we have here eh?!” one of the tall male students asked, stepping in front of the shorter girl. y/n looked up meeting the eyes of what seemed to be upperclassmen. 

 “looks like a pretty girl–” another boy said with his hands inside his uniform pockets. 

“she’s not pretty, i can assure you that much, look at her teeth!” the male that had stepped in front of her in the first place said pointing to his mouth, smirking.

   “i- i’m busy– if y-you could p-please let me pass through–” she squeaked out but her attempt was futile as one of the boys shoved her to the lockers. the male smirked as he held y/n’s face in his hand. 

   “give us a smile sweetheart, so we can see your hideous teeth!” he muttered, y/n squirmed under his hold being able to smell his hot breath. the other boys watching made gestures of disgust seeing them. she was hesitant to comply with the boy but what else could she do? giving in to his statement as y/n flashed the group a fake smile showing her pink braces.

   “open your mouth so we can see better, brat!” the boy said, squeezing y/n’s face even more. her complexion became a bit red due to the pressure. again the younger girl complied with his ask and opened her mouth a bit to show the different coloured bands which were scattered inside her mouth. 

the group laughed but the boy that was squeezing her face was suddenly gone and a loud ‘thud’ echoed through the hall. y/n opened her eyes to be met with the same boy being held by his collar. 

   “you can’t even pick on someone your own size– that’s how pathetic you've become!” a strong boy holding l/n’s bully on the concrete ground. the boy whimpered on seeing the familiar face, sukuna itadori. he was known for all the fights and suspensions he had received with not even half of the school year being through. 

   “you're not so tough now! you dick!” he muttered into his upperclassmen’s ear, smirking. other students from neighboring classrooms walked out to watch the scene unfold. some enjoyed it and cheered for sukuna and some were able to record the whole thing.

sukuna threw punch after punch at the older student. and the other boys which had been bothering y/n ran away scared as they saw the first year beat up the third year.

   “p-please– ah!” the boy screeched, trying to push sukuna away from him. eventually sukuna did and left the scared boy on the ground, bloody nose and black eye apparent on his face. tears streaming down the bully’s cheek. sukuna swipes his forehead with his bloody knuckles 

at this point gojo was one of the people recording and the principal had barely gotten there. yaga stood there out of breath seeing as sukuna was ready to walk off the scene. 

   “you're not going anywhere young man!” yaga said sternly, holding the boy's shirt from the back.  gojo-sensei took this as a perfect opportunity to leave  as if he didn't record the whole fight and wasn't planning on rewatching it with geto-san. 

   “gojo! you're not going anywhere either!” the principal said watching the white haired man try to escape without a trace. gojo cursed to himself. y/n watched as her teacher groaned. 

 “l/n, are you alright?” the principal said, walking over to the [h/c] haired girl which seemed startled. she nodded the ribbons on her two small ponytails wagging with her head, she walked to the pink haired boy who wore a scowl on his face.

   “i’m so sorry!!” y/n sobbed as she bowed to sukuna, the emotions which were being held before, coming out to the surface. her tears dropped on sukuna’s brown dress shoes. the pink haired boy stood appalled, his eyes widening as he watched the poor girl. 

   “you don’t have to–”

   “i do! you helped me with those guys and you got in trouble”

‘so i didn’t scare this girl off?!’

  “principal yaga, don’t suspend him, please– he helped me!” y/n said, raising from her stance and looking into his eyes. they were red like rubies. 

  “alright, both of you in my office!”

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