#I’m just thinking about them and crying

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Or Someone Finds The Lid.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).

Word Count: 8.0k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @elsecrytt.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Prolonged Captivity, Severe Infantilization, Forced Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Wildly Unhealthy Dynamics, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Geto Suguru has an Oral Fixation, Gojo Satou has a Mommy Kink, and Nonconsensual Drug Use. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

[Part One]

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

It had to be close to the hundredth time you’d in the past week, in the days since you woke up in a distressingly pastel bedroom, hostage to your two always worryingly possessive, but only recently deranged boyfriends. You knew, more concretely, that it was around the eleventh time you’d spouted that exact line today and the fourth time in the past hour, and as always, you were answered with a sympathetic glance, a patronizingly sweet smile. You could only be thankful it was coming from Satoru, this time. Suguru would’ve been much more condescending.

“Because we love you.” Another common sentiment, purred with just as much enthusiasm as it had been the first time you’d heard it, or the twelfth, or the forty-seventh. “And because you look good in pink.”

You sighed audibly, and Satoru pretended not to notice – only pulling you that much closer and resting his head on your shoulder. You were quickly learning that personal space, like many prior luxuries you hadn’t known to enjoy, was a right that Satoru and Suguru could revoke at will. Currently, your body was folded against Satoru’s – your back slotted against his chest and his legs spread on either side of you, the chain still attached to your ankle spread out over the mattress and the handheld console he was only partially focused on balanced on your lap. You tried to treasure the opportunity to stare mindlessly at a screen (a special privilege, considering your usual means of entertainment consisted of crayons, elementary-grade chapter books, and a plastic tea set), but for whatever reason, watching Satoru play Animal Crossing for three consecutive hours was just as under stimulating as it had been pre-kidnapping.

“That’s not a real answer.” You nudged your elbow into his chest, and when that didn’t work, pushed at his arm, just trying to get his attention. Yet another perk of your newly assigned position in this relationship – Satoru and Suguru had never made an exceptional effort to listen to you before, but now, you might as well have been speaking another language. “This is just—It’s just been so much, and it’s all so frustrating, and I don’t—”

And, just like that, you were tearing up – your vision going foggy as you struggled to hold back tears, to swallow down the whine building at the base of your throat. It was less that you’d been crying more easily and more than you were always on the verge of tears; your anger and frustration and confusion constantly at their peaks, just waiting for an excuse to spill over and leak out. Immediately, Satoru dropped his console, cooing softly as he scooped you up and turned you around. You moved to hide your face, but he was faster, more determined – his hands cupping your cheeks before you could swat him away. You weren’t crying yet, not really, but he took pains to hum and kiss away the few tears that escaped despite your best efforts. It was alarming, that crying was the only thing that consistently got them to hear you out. You tried not to think about the implications of that when paired with the pastel-pink aesthetic and the overall toddler-adjacent treatment.

“I’m really frustrated, ‘toru,” you repeated, melting into his hands. There was another coo, another peck to your forehead, before you went on. “I just— I need to know why you’re doing this. You can tell me that much, can’t you?”

“I’ve already told you, baby. It’s because we—” You cut in with a miserable, heart-breakingly pathetic sniffle, and Satoru pouted, shaking his head. Still, he broke quickly enough. “Look, you know that Suguru and I had it kinda rough before we met you, right? When we were growing up, I mean.”

Vaguely. You knew that Suguru’s parents died while he was in high school, that it’d been some kind of freak accident, but he didn’t like to talk about it. You’d met Satoru’s family once, but ‘met’ might’ve been the wrong word for it. Really, you’d sat in the antechamber of an estate the side of a small shopping mall for a little over an hour, answering questions asked by a woman who hadn’t introduced herself before being informed that, while you were not deemed a suitable partner for Satoru, you also weren’t dangerous enough to be worth the effort it would take to actively keep you away from him. Most of the time, you just tried to pretend that neither of your former partners, current captors had any immediate family.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and Satoru rewarded you with another kiss – this one to the corner of your jaw. “I know you probably don’t get it, but me and Suguru – we care about you, we care about you a lot. And the world’s a really, really dangerous place. If something happened to you out there…” He trailed off, laughing airily. An arm looped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, his chest. Instead of trying to resist, you curled against him, burying your face in his shirt as he rubbed slow, small circles into the small of your back. “You’re better off here. Getting to keep you all to ourselves is just a bonus.”

You wanted to scream, to bash your fists against his chest, to point out that they were the only people who’d ever isolated, assaulted, or kidnapped you, but he was doing what you asked him to, and the worst thing you could’ve done was give him a reason not to be as generous in the future. “…I don’t understand why you had to do—” You nodded towards your clothes – a set of bright pink cotton pajamas dotted with strawberries – then the rest of the room. “—this, though, if you’re trying to keep me safe. Couldn’t you have just… not?”

Another laugh, this one more sincere. “That part’s just for us.” This time, when he squeezed you against his chest, he didn’t let go until you were squirming against him, struggling to breathe. “Suguru does tend to let the roleplay get a little out-of-hand, but it really does help. There’s just something about seeing you all sweet n’ dressed up, surrounded by cute, soft things...” He trailed off with an airy laugh. “Makes me feel… secure, y’know? Like we’re keeping you safe.”

Something thick and jagged caught in your throat. “…this was Suguru’s idea?”

If he heard you, then that was a question he wasn’t interested in answering. “I meant the other part, too.” And then, with a slightly longer, more lingering kiss to the apex of your throat. “You look really good in pink.”

You felt it a second later – a familiar shape pressing into your ass, already worryingly stiff. You pulled away from him, your disgust too reflexive to hide. “…it gets you hard to see adult women dressed like first-graders?”

“No, princess.” A pause, a sudden nip to the side of your neck. “It gets me hard when you dress like a first-grader.”

Thankfully, before you had time to start to unpack that, you heard the bedroom door open and glanced over your shoulder to find Suguru leaning against the frame. Concern was written clearly across his expression, but it dulled to affectionate exasperation when he saw Satoru wiping away your non-existent tears. “I thought I heard a struggle,” he explained, unprompted. You hadn’t put up much of a physical fight yet, but they were both clearly concerned you would – the literal chain around your ankle was evidence enough of that. “Is it time for the little princess to take her medicine?”

You seized up at the mention of your ‘medicine’ – sedatives administered in the form of tiny, heart-shaped pills that left you exhausted and disoriented for hours at a time, if they didn’t knock you out entirely. It was what they’d used the night they’d taken you, and Suguru seemed to like to pull them out whenever you cried, or screamed, or did anything they should’ve known to expect from an acclimating victim.

To his credit, Satoru didn’t jump at the opportunity to drug you into oblivion. Not this time, at least. “She got a little overwhelmed. I took care of it.”  You slumped against him, letting yourself relax. That was your mistake, really. Maybe you should’ve had more realistic expectations, too. “But,” he went on, pushing another, sloppier kiss into your neck. “She’s still pretty fragile. A few hours off probably wouldn’t hurt.”

It was awful – how easily they could talk about you like some distant, abstract subject, how quickly they seemed to forget you were capable of listening when not addressed directly. With a smile, Suguru moved forward, resting one knee on the edge of your mattress while Satoru held you in place – keeping you from scrambling back as far as your chain would allow. You tried to grit your teeth, to keep your mouth shut, but Suguru only clicked his tongue, cupping your face with one hand while pressing something small and chalky against your pursed lips with the other. “Darling,” he drawled, infusing as much syrupy condescension into the pet name as was humanly possible. “You remember what happens to bad girls who don’t do what they’re told, don’t you?”

Instantly, your heart dropped. You remembered.

Driving your nails into your palms, you unlocked your jaw and hesitantly opened your mouth. Suguru barely waited for your lips to part before shoving the pill past your teeth and down your throat, keeping two lingers lodged in your airway even as you sputtered and gagged around him. It was less that you swallowed his pill and more that you would’ve had to choke down anything he all-but force-fed you, but whatever you called it, Suguru was satisfied – drawing back with a pleased hum only to tap his saliva-coated fingers against Satoru’s lips, instead. You shut your eyes, but it wasn’t enough.

The last thing you heard were the wet, stomach-turning noises of Satoru’s affection before everything went fuzzy.

~

You only really acted out once – about three weeks in, when the initial adrenaline was starting to fade and the slow, vicious dread of prolonged captivity had just begun to set in. You weren’t allowed to leave your windowless, ambiently lit bedroom, and by end of the first week, time had turned into something viscous and unforgiving, the endless hours only broken up by visits from Satoru and Suguru. It was hard not to be constantly on edge – unsure if you’d been alone for hours and minutes, simultaneously dying to see them again and hoping you never would. It was hard to tell what they were thinking, when you were so caught in in your own spiraling thoughts to try and guess at theirs.

Speaking of – their dynamic had become a little clearer, even if how things had spiraled out of control so quickly was still lost on you. You and Satoru had always been the dominant personalities in your relationship, with Suguru as the calming presence that leveled the two of you out, setting arguments and keeping you from tearing out each other’s throats. Now, though, the roles were reversed. Satoru was happy enough to spend most of his time treating you like an oversized, particularly uncooperative stuffed animal; something to cuddle and coo over, but not necessarily train or expect to reciprocate. Suguru, though…

Suguru had expectations.

“I need you to hold still, love.”

Suguru’s fingers brushed over your spine as he fiddled with the complex array of buttons lining the back of tonight’s nightgown. You’d seen your closest, knew they must’ve spent a small fortune on dresses and shoes and accessories, but Suguru still seemed to prefer you in sheer, cotton nightgowns and lacey lingerie and humiliatingly childish loungewear – nothing you would’ve been able to wear outside of home, even if you’d put it on willingly. It was a blessing that Suguru and Satoru were as busy as they were – Satoru with his classes and Suguru with his religious group. Most of the time, you’d find Suguru’s chosen outfit on the foot of your bed and be trusted to dress yourself. Most of the time.

Just not tonight.

“Someone’s a little antsy.” It was Satoru, this time, as unhelpful as ever. He was sprawled across your bed, toying idly with your chain while you sat in front of a vanity on the other side of the room, deliberately avoiding your reflection in the tri-fold mirror. “You should’ve let me play with her in the tub. Then, she wouldn’t have the energy to squirm.”

You felt your face burn. As if being forced to drink out of sippy cups and color with crayons wasn’t enough, bathtime was quickly becoming one of your most unbearable daily trails. Suguru always made sure things stayed above-board, but having to watch Satoru fuck his own fist while Suguru lovingly dictated where, when, and how roughly to clean yourself wasn’t much better than the alternative.

“Absolutely not. You’re too rough, and the last thing we want is for our princess to get bruised because you can’t wait another half an hour.” Fenagling the last button into place, Suguru straightened his back, sighing contentedly. “Can you turn around for me?”

Biting down on the side of your tongue, you shifted on the velvet-cushioned stool, your back pressing into the edge of the vanity’s counter as you faced Suguru. You’d made a point of not looking at yourself, but you could imagine what he saw – a thin nightgown clinging to your damp skin, your posture shrunken and your eyes downcast, every part of you made to seem small and helpless. If the feeling of his gaze burning into you wasn’t telling enough, the overwhelming delight audible in his voice would’ve given him away in a heartbeat. “Satoru, you have your phone, right? I want a picture. And—oh.” Your eyes darted in his direction just in time to see him pull a stuffed animal from one of the larger stacks; a large, white rabbit teddy, its button eyes an overly familiar shade of blue. He held it by its ears as he handed it to you. “Hold onto this for a second, love.”

You felt something tighten in your chest. You were in a bad position. You were in a bad place. You needed to be careful, and yet, when you finally managed to say something, you could only seem to spit out the one thing you knew he wouldn’t want to hear. “I… I really don’t want to take a picture right now, if that’s alright.”

To his credit, Suguru’s didn’t falter, his grin only wavering slightly. “Love,” He paused, sighed. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to.”

“I know, but—” Your breath hitched in your throat. Really, it was a miracle you weren’t already crying. “Please, Suguru. Not right now.”

His expression darkened, and yet, the gentle sigh that slipped past his lips was nothing short of tender. Still holding the rabbit, he reached out – catching the lace of your nightgown’s collar with two fingers. For a second, he just played with the delicate fabric, careful not to damage it.

Then, before you could think to react, his fist was around your neck and you were being slammed into the vanity.

There was enough force behind the collision to splinter the wood upon impact, to knock the air out of your lungs and seed an awful knot of blinding pain in the back of your head. You gasped, but it was too late – his fist tightened around your throat and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move save what it took for your hands to find his and dig your nails into his wrist, his forearm, his knuckles, whatever you could reach. You never would’ve been able to pry him off, but you didn’t need to. He released you as abruptly as he’d lunged, and without his support, your body dropped off of the vanity’s now-dented desk and onto the carpeted floor, your dress falling into a limp heap around you. You were too shocked to cry, to sob, to scream. Suguru and Satoru had kidnapped you, dehumanized you, isolated you, but neither of them had ever hurt you. They’d never—

Except, that wasn’t true, was it? They had hurt you. The first thing Suguru ever didwas hurt you, bending you over his knee the second you disobeyed him, and Satoru helped.

For your own sake, you decided to consider this an escalation, a new development. Something neither of them would’ve been capable of, back when you still considered them your Suguru and your Satoru.

 You also decided, still for your own sake, that you couldn’t afford to think about this any longer. Suguru was already moving on, lowering himself to your height, pouting as he raked his fingers through your now-disheveled hair and evaluated your newly wrinkled dress. “I’m sorry, princess. I must’ve lost my temper. I know you must be upset – having your pretty outfit ruined and all.”

He waited a beat, then asked, “Don’t you have something to say to me?”

If you hadn’t been so scared, you might’ve slapped him. Instead, you just bit down on your bottom lip and mumbled an unsure “I… I’m sorry?”

“For what, exactly?”

“For—For talking back, and making you angry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, love, I know. You would never mean to do anything like that.” He was still holding onto that fucking rabbit. You felt its velvet-soft material brush against your leg as he placed it, almost carefully, on the floor next to you. “I’ll tell you what – there don’t have to be any pictures. Why don’t you take your medicine, and we can allgo to bed?”

“No!” It was a purely automatic response, as reflexive as lashing out and latching onto his arm. When you realized what you were doing, you pulled away with a jolt, forcing your hands back into your lap and staring wide-eyed at the floor. “I mean, I’m sorry, I just—” You swallowed harshly. “Isn’t there… uh, another option? Please?”

Suguru opened his mouth, but Satoru cut in before he had the chance to answer. “Think it’s time to break out her pacifier, Suguru?”

You perked up. No part of you wanted to suck on a piece of plastic for the entertainment of your captors, sure, but it was better than the alternative. Fuck, you were having trouble of thinking of something that wasn’t.

Suguru seemed to like the idea, too. He shot Satoru an appreciative smile before pushing himself to his feet, before turning his attention back to you, eagerly waiting for your next bout of psychological torture.

It was only when he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants that you realized your mistake.

You might’ve protested – or, whined, at least – but the back of your skull still ached, and you could still see Satoru smirking in your peripheral, and he was already forcing his boxers below his hips, already curling a hand around the shaft of his cock. Disgustingly, terrifyingly, he was half-hard; his bloated tip flushed a darker shade of red, beads of arousal leaking from his blunt head and dripping down his shaft. Your thoughts seemed to waver, then fry, then blot out altogether – like a video game glitching in the middle of a cut scene. Maybe you should’ve just sat still for the fucking picture after all.

“The poor thing looks so startled,” Suguru cooed, glancing to Satoru. “Why don’t you lend her a hand?”

You were vaguely aware of Satoru moving, shifting, pushing himself off of your bed and crouching behind you. His thumb pushed past your lips and hooked your lower jaw easing your mouth open with as little grace as you had remaining dignity. You tried to bite down, obviously, but Suguru took hold of your hair and pulled – the sharp spike of pain immediately dispelling any thoughts of disobedience. “He’s helping you,” Suguru chimed, his voice taking on a cloying overtone. “You’ll have to thank him properly later on. When your mouth isn’t full, I mean.”

It wasn’t, but that changed quickly. Suguru was kind enough (or cruel enough) to move slowly, easing the head of his cock past your lips first, letting it sit on your tongue as you fought not to cringe against the bitter, musky taste. Satoru pulled his hand away as Suguru eased another inch into your mouth, then another, then another – letting out a rough groan as his tip hit the back of your throat with more than half of his shaft to spare. You fought the urge to gag, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’d given him head before, but it’d always been on your own terms, with Satoru waiting on the sidelines to bail you out if you ever got tired of choking on your boyfriend’s stupidly big dick. Now, though, Satoru didn’t seem to want to do anything but breathe down your neck, and you doubted your consent was a factor either of them would stop to genuinely consider.

Ultimately, your enthusiastic cooperation proved unnecessary. Suguru kept his fingers tangled in your hair, his blunt nails biting into your scalp as he manually bobbed your head – slowly, at first, then faster, with enough force to leave your jaw sore after less than a minute of being split around his shaft. Saliva and pre-cum drooled from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chest and onto your nightgown, but if Suguru cared, the feeling of your throat convulsing around him was enough to warrant a momentary lapse in decency. “T-that’s it,” he muttered, mostly under his breath. “Good, good girl. See what happens when you’re well-behaved?”

You felt Satoru shift behind you, his hands skirting over your back as he skillfully undid the buttons Suguru had spent so much time fussing over. A pair of large, velvet-soft hands grazed over your waist, then your sides, before reaching your chest and cupping your tits – kneading the soft tissue like a pair twin stress balls fitted perfectly to his palms. “She looks better already,” Satoru laughed, thumbs swiping over your nipples. “You’re gonna thank mommy for being so nice with you, right?”

Suguru snorted. “I’m mommy?”

“Mhm. ‘cause you’re so pretty and you take such good care of our little princess.” He nudged you, propping his chin on your shoulder. “Go on, baby. Tell mommy how much you love him.”

You choked something out – more of a desperate whine than anything coherent – and Suguru threw his head back, cursing silently as his pace turned from sloppy to erratic. His cock battered into your throat with every thrust, your air supply constantly somewhere between minimal and nonexistent. It was only as the outskirts of your vision started to fade that Suguru hissed, gritting his teeth as he dragged your head into his hips, your nose pressing into his pubic bone and his cock so far down your throat, you could practically feel him in your lungs. A sudden twitch, a groaned exhale was all the warning you received before you felt something hot and thick fill your throat, your mouth, your diaphragm. He held you there for a moment, then another – savoring the sound of your fractured whimpering all-but drowned by his cum – before letting you go, watching through half-lidded eyes as you collapsed into Satoru’s waiting arms.

You lurched forward, moving to spit, to get him out of you, but Satoru’s hand was already covering your mouth – determined to keep Suguru’s taste on your tongue for that much longer. At the same time, you felt something small and soft being dropped onto your thighs, heard the shutter of a camera above you. Rather than trying to look at Suguru, you let your gaze fall to your lap.

Or, rather, the perfectly white, perfectly posed rabbit now resting peacefully on top of it.

~

It was two months before the chain came off – meaning, before Suguru and Satoru were happy enough with either your behavior or their security to let you roam freely (with heavy supervision, of course). It went without saying that you were ecstatic. You could barely sit still while Satoru undid the shackle, barely listen while Suguru told you their plans for the night – dinner and a movie marathon, not totally dissimilar to something you might’ve suggested when you still had the authority to be making suggestions. It didn’t matter. You were just happy to be doing anything, especially if it meant you got to leave that godawful room.

You only realized that you’d still been picturing your old apartment when you stepped out of the bedroom an abruptly realized you weren’t in an apartment at all, but a house – two stories with every window looking out onto a fence so tall, you would’ve had to be on the roof to see over it. It was decorated sparely, with what few shelves there were littered sporadically with Satoru’s gundams or parts of Suguru’s ongoing trinket collection, but minimalism was an appreciated change compared to the ongoing sensory nightmare that was your bedroom. You gawked at every empty surface, every plain white wall as Suguru herded you to the kitchen, where Satoru was busy plating what looked like udon. The seating arrangement was strange – there were only two chairs at the dining room table, but you were too caught up in your own euphoria to care. You grabbed a bowl and a pair of chopsticks, fell into a seat, and—

“Sweetheart,” Suguru started, his voice somewhat strained. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Uh,” You glanced at your bowl, abruptly confused. “Eating? I think?”

“Almost, but not quite. I guess I can’t blame you for not knowing.” He rounded the table, coming to stand at your side. You tried to get up, but it only took a hand on your shoulder to stop you. “Even something as simple as using utensils can be dangerous for little ones like you. Me and Satoru will be feeding you by hand, from now on.”

It was strange, really – how many little deaths you could die before going numb to it. It was terrible, how many times you could hear one of the two men you loved most in the world say you were more incapable than a literal child before it all just turned to static.

You wondered, distantly, if Suguru was offended that you didn’t engage with this part of him more willingly. It was clearly sincere, if fucked-up, and if he’d ever bothered to ask, you probably would’ve agreed to try it – not that you would’ve had much of a choice, in the later stages of your relationship. It was different for Satoru – as long as you were trapped and at his mercy, he’d be happy. Suguru wanted something… different, more complex. Suguru wanted reliance.

Suguru wanted to break you down.

“If you say so.” You heard your voice, felt your mouth moving, but you weren’t talking. “Can I… um, would it be alright if I asked for something, first?”

Suguru’s satisfaction was almost palpable. “Of course. Anything for you.”

“I think I’d like to take my medicine, now.”

Suguru answered quickly, but not quickly enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Satoru reach for the cabinet above the stove before thinking better of it and glancing over his shoulder, as if to make sure you hadn’t seen. It took everything you had not to react as Suguru responded.

“Of course,” he said with an airy laugh, nearly purring. “Not right now, though – we’ll wait until it’s closer to your bedtime. Try to focus on dinner.”

You only nodded eagerly, smiling sincerely for the first time in weeks.

~

It took two weeks for you to get your hands on their pills (you stole two, just in case), and three more to convince Satoru that a field trip – his description, not yours – wouldn’t be that big of a deal, not if you kept it short, not if Suguru didn’t find out. He’d always been ecstatic when you visited him at his university (a historic private school, so unlike the local community college you’d gone to, the one you missed with all your heart), and besides, what was worst that could happen? He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight, and the students were still on winter break. You could even wear your old clothes, just to make sure you didn’t attract attention. It’d just be the two of you, all alone in his office, with hours and hours and hours to kill. Really, how could it possibly go wrong?

You waited until you reached his office to slip both stolen pills into his coffee. He’d barely gotten his belt off before the effects kicked-in, but still, you waited until he’d been reduced to a drooling, half-conscious shell of himself before making your escape.

You’d been right – his campus really was deserted. You hurried past dark lecture halls and empty offices as you rushed in a direction you hoped would lead to an exit, glanced out of windows that looked onto lifeless courtyards as you thought about what to do next. The police weren’t an option. They hadn’t hurt you, not in any way you’d be able to prove, and even if you had the evidence, Satoru was rich, and to the law, there was no greater proof of innocence. You tried to think of phone numbers, of addresses, but you hadn’t had many friends before meeting Satoru and Suguru, and they’d made sure to whittle that unimpressive number down to zero over the course of your relationship. You cursed under your breath, even though there was no one around to hear you. You should’ve taken Satoru’s wallet after he passed out. You wouldn’t have been able to use to his cards, but it would’ve been nice to—

You rounded the next corner, then froze.

At the end of the hall, like an omen of death granted human form, stood Suguru.

You took a faltering step backward before breaking into a full, heart-pounding sprint. Suguru wasn’t close, but he was close enough. He let you get all of three steps away before fist curled around the back of your shirt, his muscular arm wrapping around your midriff, trapping you with as much effort as it might’ve taken to lift a kitten by its scruff. Still, you thrashed, struggled, fought – throwing your elbow into his stomach and kicking at his legs as he lifted you off the ground entirely, pinning your body against his chest. He wasn’t supposed to be here. You were told he’d be at his shrine today, all day, with a thousand little things to do that’d keep him distracted until you got away. This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to be—

“Calm down,” he muttered, his voice distant, cold. “You’ll only make this worse for yourself.”

Immediately, you went still. It was a vague threat, but it was a threat, and Suguru had never threatened you before.

Or, you didn’t think he had, at least. It was getting so hard to tell, after everything they’d done to you.

He didn’t sigh, or shake his head, or speak again. He only lowered you back to the ground and, after taking your hand in his, led you back down the vacant halls, past the abandoned classrooms, and to the door of Satoru’s office. He paused outside of it, his dark eyes falling to you in a way you could only describe as void-like. You had to wonder why you every thought you knew him.

“You were trying to…?”

He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Reluctantly, you nodded, and Suguru turned away from you, shouldering open the office door.

Satoru was on his feet, but only barely. He was supporting himself on the corner of his desk, his pale face flushed red and his clothes noticeably disheveled. At some point, he’d lost his sunglasses, and you watched his sky-blue eyes go wide as Suguru crossed the threshold with you following shortly after. “Suguru, princess.” His voice was weak, breathy. You could only imagine how you’d sounded strung out on their sedatives. “How far did she get? She caught me off-guard, but—”

Suguru let go of your hand and closed the distance between him and Satoru. You heard the sharp crack before you could process what he was doing – saw Suguru raise his hand and Satoru’s head snap to the side without ever linking either action with the other. Even Satoru, always so resilient, took a moment to recover, his expression going blank as Suguru spoke, unphased. “If you ever leave me, I’ll break your legs so badly, you’ll never be able to walk again.” You didn’t have to wonder if he meant it. It didn’t matter if he meant it. The words alone left shaking too violently to move, let alone run. “And if you do anything to help her, I’ll gut you alive.”

Your eyes darted to Satoru, to his visibly swollen cheek. Somehow, he seemed even more flushed than he had seconds before, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he looked—

Oh, god.

You should’ve gotten away when you had the chance.

Of course, things only got worse when he opened his mouth. “Yes, mommy.”

“Get on the couch and lay down. It’s not like you’re good for anything else, right now.”

“I will, mommy.”

He obeyed mechanically, collapsing onto the well-worn sofa that sat against the far wall. You’d always thought it was too big, too bulky, especially in such a confined state. When you asked Satoru why he bothered to keep it, he’d just laughed and claimed he liked to keep his guests comfortable.

You doubted you counted as a guest. Then again, you doubted you were going to be very comfortable, either.

Suguru glanced over his shoulder, his lifeless stare boring into you. “Straddle his waist and help him undress. You did this, so you’ll be taking responsibility.”

Fear was a surprisingly strong motivation. You were scrambling onto the sofa before you had a chance to think, planting a knee on either side of Satoru’s hips as you fumbled clumsily with his shirt. For his part, Satoru was either incapable of or unwilling to help you – a distant, careless smile soon painting itself across his lips as he watched you struggle. When he did move, it was only to bring a hand to the back of your neck and drag you downward, his mouth crashing into yours. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy attempt to choke you to death with his tongue, but Satoru still groaned as you separated, his face immediately finding the crook of your neck. “So glad Suguru got you back,” he slurred, nuzzling into you. “He’s so hot when he gets all jealous like that.”

You were only half-listening to him, already distracted. Suguru had moved, too – kneeling behind you, his hands finding your hips and dragging them into the air. Your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties to the side, and just as abruptly, three of Suguru’s broad fingers were pushed into your cunt. You whimpered at the sudden, borderline painful intrusion, but Suguru only scoffed. “Be grateful you’re getting this much prep. It’s already more than you deserve.”

That didn’t do anything to stop the pain, though. Suguru was merciless – sheathing his digits to the knuckle, spreading his fingers apart, making it clear that he wasn’t doing this for your pleasure, even if he didn’t seem to be getting much out of it, either. You tried to shut your eyes, to grit your teeth and bare it, but any attempts to ignore reality were swiftly cut short by the feeling of his unoccupied hand coming down on your ass with enough force to bruise. “Did I say could stop?”

He hadn’t, but Satoru was making things difficult – keeping you slotted against him as closely as you could. As Suguru’s fingers fucked into you, you managed to get an arm between your body and his, for the waistband of his jeans down just far enough to earn a satisfied grunt from Suguru. Strangely, the worst part wasn’t the strain in your cunt, or the heat of Satoru’s cock pressing into your stomach, but the feeling of Satoru’s wide, toothy grin pressing into the side of your neck – tangible proof of his euphoria. It was awful – just how clearly he was enjoying this. At least Suguru had the decency to go blank.

It was too much too suddenly with too little build up, but Suguru knew your body and, more damningly, your body knew him. Barely a minute had passed before you felt arousal stain the inside of your thighs, before the sound of his digits plunging into you took on a distinctive wet quality. You let your head lull into Satoru’s chest and dig your teeth into your tongue, willing away any embarrassing noises that would’ve added to your ongoing degradation, but if Suguru cared, you couldn’t tell. He soldiered on with that brutal, unyielding pace, ignoring your clit entirely in favor of beating his frustration directly into your pussy. Really, it was a miracle you felt anything at all. Well, anything beyond pain, anyway.

It was only when you tensed against Satoru, when you finally let a single, fractured moan slip past your haphazardly sealed lips, that Suguru abruptly stopped; pulling out of you before you could fully process what was happening. You glanced over your shoulder, misplaced disappointment softening the harsher edges of your fear, but Satoru was quick to catch your chin – redirecting your attention back to him. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” he asked, rocking his hips into yours. “You’ve gotta stay on my good side too, remembered?”

As if you could forget.

Behind you, Suguru glowered. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.” To Satoru, and then, to you, “Do it. Make sure he doesn’t cum.”

Your instructions were clear, albeit unappreciated. Satoru let you straighten your back, his hands kneading at your thighs as you picked yourself up and, as mindlessly as you could, aligned the head of his cock with your entrance. You wanted to move slowly, to give your abused cunt time to adjust, but Suguru proved uncharacteristically impatient; taking you by the shoulders and spearing you on Satoru’s cock before you could so much as consider protesting. You went stiff, your brain too busy trying to make sense of your sudden fullness to order your body to move, but Satoru didn’t seem to mind – only tightening his vice-like hold and bucking into you from below, his cock battering into the deepest, most vulnerable part of you without the slightest trace of concern.

You were too startled to make noise, but Satoru had always been so much louder than you, so much more eager to pour out his every little thought. “She’s so fucking tight,” he breathed, grinding into you. “Been ages since I had her on top of me, too. Almost forgot how—” A slight gasp, a pitchy whine, “Almost forgot how pretty she could get, sitting on her daddy’s lap.”

Your sight blurred, and a few seconds later, you realized you were crying. Suguru didn’t respond, but you heard fabric shifting, felt one of his hands disappear for a moment before returning, now on the center of your back. With more force than he really had to use, he shoved you back down, pressing you flat against Satoru as he maneuvered himself behind you. Space was limited, availability even more so, but still, it wasn’t until you felt the head of his cock press against your stuffed slit that you realized what he was doing.

“N—no,” It was almost impressive, just how quickly you abandoned what was left of your pride. You tried to pick yourself back up, but Satoru was a snare – an arm looking around your waist while the other found your hip, holding you still for Suguru. “Please, you can’t, it’s not—It won’t fit, and—”

And, just like that, Suguru was pushing into you, bottoming out in a single thrust. As his hips pressed into your ass and he let out a quiet, almost inaudible groan, you could only wonder if either of them had ever really loved you.

There was a lapse – more for their sakes than yours – before Satoru started moving, already acclimated. “Such a good girl,” he drawled, grinding into you, seemingly unhappy unless he and Suguru were both fully planted inside of you. “See? It’s not that bad, right? I knew you’d be able to handle it.”

But you couldn’t. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, hitched sobbed and agonized moans trickling past your lips every time either of them moved. Suguru sucked in a shuddering breath, then planted a hand on the small of your back, thrusting into you sharp and deep – his movements a stark contrast to Satoru’s. The stretch along was unbearable. Even on your best days, you’d struggle to take either of them to the hilt. Taking both seemed fantastical, implausible, fatal. It was genuinely surprising that you weren’t already dead.

It was doubly as surprising, then, that it felt so good.

 Most of it had to be your own fried nerves trying to make the best of it, to get you through this as quickly and as painlessly as was possible. You weren’t in control of anything; not your hands as they clawed blindly at Satoru’s chest, not your hips as you bucked pitifully into Suguru, and certainly not your cunt as it clenched even tighter around the cocks splitting it open. Satoru let out an airy laugh, two fingers dropping to your neglected clit. “It’s okay, baby, you deserve to feel good too,” he gushed, pushing lazy circles into the small bundle of nerves, drawing out yet another miserable sob. “Told you she’d like it.”

“She’s not supposed to,” Suguru grunted, digging his nails into your waist. Still, that didn’t stop him from burying himself inside of you, his cock twitching against the walls of your cunt. You couldn’t be sure what it was – the fullness, maybe, or the overstimulation, or your own desperation to just get this over with – but your vision burnt white, your body convulsing against Satoru’s as you came undone around them. Satoru followed shortly after, digging his teeth into the curve of your neck as he pumped something searing and vileinto you. Suguru let out a rough, throaty growl – throwing his head forward and hilting himself entirely inside of you. You shook your head, pleading silently, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to notice, and even if he had, you doubted it would’ve been enough to stop him from cumming inside of you, from ensuring that no part of you was left uncorrupted.

There was a short period of numb, thoughtless stillness – filled only by Suguru’s panting, Satoru’s mindless cooing, and the absence of your voice. Suguru shifted, and for a second, you panicked, convincing yourself that there was more, that he wasn’t done – but he only pulled out of you, fixing his clothes with his eyes focused pointedly on the point where your cunt was still stretched around Satoru’s cock, where it leaked and drooled onto Satoru’s lap. You weren’t so resilient, letting your eyes fall shut and slumping against Satoru.

For the very first time, as you lost consciousness, you felt the smallest, tiniest, most microscopic spec of relief that, at the very least, you wouldn’t be responsible for cleaning yourself up.

~

“Stay in the car. I’ll call when it’s time for you to bring her in.”

The ride had been near-silent, only occasionally interrupted by an odd comment from Satoru or a hissed warning from Suguru. Suguru drove while Satoru held onto you in the back seat, keeping you gathered in his arms, his jacket draped loosely over your shoulders. Satoru only nodded as Suguru let himself out, making no move to follow. Whatever this was, they must’ve already talked about it while you were blacked out.

You waited until Suguru had disappeared into the house before speaking, your voice hoarse and unsteady. “He hit you.”

“Mhm. You did a number on my chest, too.”

“But—” You cut yourself off and started over. “He hit you.”

He flashed you a smile, as careless as it was dismissive. “What do you want me to say, baby?”

“That this insane. That he’s insane.” You crossed your arms over your chest, curling into yourself. “You can leave, Satoru – we can leave together. All we’d have to do is—” The air hitched in your throat, but you managed to snarl something out. “—fucking go.”

“And why would we want to do that, exactly?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

Satoru laughed, the sound breathy and light. “Because,” he said, nuzzling into your hair, “Suguru loves me. He loves us. You should know that – after today, especially.”

You opened your mouth, but shut it just as quickly.

This time, you had a feeling that he’d given you the only answer he was going to.

The next few minutes passed slowly. Satoru kept himself occupied, pushing slow, lingering kisses into your cheek and neck, while you stared mindlessly out of the window, trying to savor the last minutes of sunlight that you’d have for a long, long time. Eventually, Satoru’s phone buzzed. He didn’t even bother to check it before gathering you up in his arms and carrying you inside. You expected him to take you back to your bedroom, with its stuffed-animal lined shelves and bright pink walls and polished silver chain, but instead, he turned down a hallway you’d never seen before, into a bedroom that was distinctly not yours. Suguru was waiting for him, standing in the doorway to a dark closet. The edges of his lips quirked upward when he saw you. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the closest thing you’d gotten to one from him all day.

Satoru placed you next to him, and your attention turned back to the closet. Any clothes or shoes had been cleared out to make room for a single, silver dog crate, nearly big enough to stretch from one wall to the other. The bottom was padded with a light pink blanket that you recognized from your bed, and a white rabbit plush had been left in the far right corner. A deadbolt hung, undone, from the open kennel door.

You might’ve broken down entirely, if you hadn’t been so devastated.

Suguru’s voice was deafening and serene, as beautifully composed as it was unspeakably terrible. “Get in, love.”

“I’m not—”

“You should probably listen to him,” Satoru cut in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “This is just about the nicest thing he suggested.”

You swallowed, your heart failing to beat. Out of some ancient, primal, preservatory instinct, your body moved towards the crate, falling to its knees and bowing its head to fit inside. The kennel was big for a dog, not for a person. You had just enough room to huddle against the farthest wall as Suguru slid the door into place, the deadbolt locking with a sadistic click.

“It really is a shame,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I was hoping you could be our darling princess for a little longer, but I’m sure you’ll make a much better bitch.”

Satoru helped him back to his feet, and together, they retreated back to the closet door, Satoru casting one more lovesick smile over his shoulder as he shut the door behind them, leaving you in total, endless, solitary darkness.

Your wretched sobs echoed off the barren walls as you finally started to cry.

[heavenlyhischier]

Mystery Man | Joe Burrow

a little smau of joe with an actress :) i made reader friends with drew and madelyn from obx for some reason so enjoy that 😭

enews

liked by user1 and others

enews BREAKING! Actress yourusername thanked boyfriend in #OSCARS acceptance speech last night despite being assumed single. Any ideas as to who this mystery man is? 🤩

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user1 Who cares

yourfan1 Our girl is an Oscar winner 🥹🥹

yourfan2 You wish you knew huh (me too)

user2 She shouldn’t have won 😒

yourfan1 cry about it

yourfan3 Maybe it’s Drew

yourfan1 They’ve both said a thousand times they’re just friends

yourfan3 Instead of worrying about her personal life, maybe redo this actually congratulating her 😀

liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by joeyb_9 and others

yourusername I can’t even begin to explain just how grateful I am for all of you for making this possible. Thank you guys for supporting and believing in me so I was able to get my first Oscar!! In honor of that, here’s some of my favorite pictures from last night with some of my favorite people 💜

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user1 WHERE’S JOE

user2 DID YOU LEAVE WITH JOE BURROW

yourfan1 MOTHER IS MOTHERING SO HARD THIS YEAR

madelyncline You’re always a winner to me 😍

yourusername You sap (i love you sm)

madelyncline Can’t think of anyone more deserving 🩷

user3 I can

daisyedgarjones ❤️

yourfan2 I LOVE YOU

user3 Who’s in the last picture

user4 We see him in the likes

drewstarkey 👹

tmz

liked by others

tmz #yourname seen kissing Bengals QB #JoeBurrow amidst dating rumors 👀

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user1 Didn’t see that coming lol

yourfan1 So what? Leave them alone

yourfan2 And the award for hottest couple in the world goes to….

user2 Maybe she can bring some winning vibes to them next season

yourusername

liked by jacobelordi and others

yourusername Well, I guess the mystery man has been revealed 🤷🏻‍♀️

tagged joeyb_9

user1 idk who i’m more jealous of right now

user2 Imagine thinking you and your man are the hottest couple the you see these two in the same room

yourfan1 I had hope it was Drew 😔

madelyncline The first picture looks good I wonder who took it

joeyb_9 My girl 🧡

yourusername Luckiest girl in the world🤍

user3 I’m going to pretend this was for me

yourfan2 Our girl***

drewstarkey Finally someone else can hold your shoes

yourusername That’s what you think

user4 Are we going to see you at any games this next season??

joeyb_9 posted to his story.

[corroded-hellfire]

I’m sorry for getting distracted like ten times before sending this but tbh it’s kinda your fault <3

Imagine you’re sitting in the backyard with Eddie while watching the kids run around and Eddie starts talking about how happy and thankful he is for the life he has now. He gets emotional with you and even starts to cry and I just wanna see him cry happy tears. LET MY BOY BE HAPPY.

Your wish is my and @munson-blurbs’s command our darling wife 💚

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Autumn in Hawkins is…well, like any other time in Hawkins, but with a crisp bite in the air. The leaves that budded in the spring and held a lively green in the summer are now beginning to turn brown, curling in on themselves as they fall off of the trees. The sun dips behind the clouds earlier and earlier, bringing many of the town’s residents inside their homes for the night. 

But not your family. 

You and Eddie sit side by side on the porch swing, watching your kids run around the backyard. All three of them—four, if you count Luke’s dog—are playing a rousing game of tag. Ryan and Luke have teamed up against Eliza and Patch. It isn’t much of a fair fight, considering your daughter is only three years old and the dog doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening, but no one is complaining. 

Eddie’s hand finds your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is pure chaos,” he whispers in your ear. 

“Insanity,” you agree. Eliza shrieks giddily as Ryan picks her up and slings her over his shoulder. There was a time where you could carry Ryan; now, he’s sixteen-years-old and turning into a young man. It was as though the years had slipped through your fingers without you realizing. “What were we thinking, adding another one into this mix?”

Instinctively, Eddie splays his palm over your stomach. You’re only a month along and aren’t close to showing yet, but he still feels that protectiveness over you. 

“Four kids and a dog,” he muses, shaking his head. “This is your fault, y’know?”

“My fault?”

Eddie nods, a serious look on his face. “Oh, yes. It was two against two when we just had the boys. But then you had to be so damn perfect, and so I had to give you a baby.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“And what about this one?” You glance at where his hand rests. “Is that my fault, too?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie grins. “I mean, you looked so beautiful pregnant with Eliza. How could I possibly let that be a one-time thing?”

You’re about to protest that it was actually a nine-month thing, but you’re interrupted by Patch barking excitedly. 

The brown and white puppy runs as fast as his little legs will take him, doing laps around the three kids. He seems content when Eliza is put back down on the ground, and he can go over and check on her.

“I’m okay!” Eliza comforts with a breathless laugh. 

She pets Patch on the head as he sniffs all over her small legs and feet. Luke snatches his little sister, and though he doesn’t pick her up off the ground, he holds her prisoner against his chest.

“Whatcha gonna do now, Patch?” he teases. “Remember, I’m the one who feeds you!”

Eliza squeals and wriggles against the fourteen-year-old’s chest. Ryan decides to take the attention off both of his siblings and plop down on the grass right next to Patch.

The plan works perfectly as the Australian Shepherd and Labrador mix abandons both younger Munsons and climbs onto Ryan’s chest.

Eddie chuckles from next to you. When you turn to look at him, an infectious grin has you joining in his laughter.

“We’re raising some great kids, huh?” he muses, still watching them.

“Let’s hope this next one turns out just as amazing,” you say, squeezing your hand over Eddie’s where it’s perched on your stomach. 

He turns his hand around to lace his fingers with yours before bringing your hand up to his mouth. His soft, yet slightly chapped lips press kisses from your knuckles all the way to the inside of your wrist. The two of you may have been together for over six years now, but the display of affection still makes you dizzy with giddiness. 

“I keep wondering about how they’re going to react,” Eddie says, nodding towards your children out on the lawn. “I think I’ve imagined them responding in every possible way.”

“Can I be the one to say it to them?” you ask. It feels a little silly, but the idea of getting to say the words “you’re going to have a baby brother or sister” to them fills you with glee.

“Of course, princess.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two of you watch Eliza demonstrate to Patch how to roll over. Luke pretends to give his little sister a treat from his pocket and the girl playfully growls at him.

“Do you think Luke will wanna name this new baby?” you ask Eddie as his thumb lazily strokes the back of your hand.

“God, I hope not,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. “He’s been obsessed with WWE lately. We’ll have to name it John Cena.”

You giggle and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Man, this pregnancy was already hitting you with the exhaustion. 

“Well, Eliza would probably pick Hercules or Megara,” you point out. “Not much better.”

Eddie leans in and kisses your forehead. “Maybe we have to institute a ‘no wrestlers and no cartoon characters’ rule this time.”

“But then Eliza wouldn’t be Eliza,” you point out. It was Ryan who had chosen the name while watching The Wild Thornberries. “So, we might have to make an exception if needed.”

“Fair enough.” 

Before you can set any more ground rules, Luke calls out from the grass:

“Attention, lady and gentledad! The Amazing Eliza and her fearless pup, Patch, would like to perform their death-defying spectacular!”

You sit up a bit, watching as Eliza crouches on her hands and knees. Luke fishes a slice of bologna out of his pants pocket—you’re not sure how long it’s been in there, and you’re not sure you want to—and stands on one side of his sister. 

On her other side, Ryan holds Patch in his arms, the Aussiedor wriggling in anticipation of his snack. 

“And now,” Luke bellows, “we will release the beast!”

With that, your oldest son places Patch on the grass. Before all paws even touch down, the dog bolts towards Luke, leaping over Eliza with surprising grace. 

Eliza jumps up, excitement written all over her cherubic face. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see that? Did you see me and Patch?”

“We sure did, sweet pea.” You look over at Eddie to gauge his reaction, only to see that his eyes are glassy. The kids are already plotting Patch’s next trick when you ask your husband what’s wrong. 

Eddie shakes his head, swiping at a tear that managed to escape. “I was just thinking about how much they smile,” he says softly. “Especially the boys. It wasn’t always this way.”

You lace your fingers with his. “I know.” You remember the early days of babysitting Ryan and Luke. They walked on eggshells around Brittany, always prepared to be dismissed or outright rejected. Each “I’m too busy to play with you,” extinguished a little more light in their eyes. 

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs. “I love you for so many reasons, but I love you most of all for bringing joy back into our lives again. For reminding us how a family should be.”

Another tear rolls down his cheek as he takes in the unconditional love that surrounds him. You reach over with your free hand and wipe the tear away with your thumb. 

“Every smile and little giggle from those boys has brought me so much joy ever since I met them. Seeing their general happiness grow over these last ten years has been a highlight of my life.”

You bring Eddie’s hand up and press a few soft kisses against the back of it. 

“And now there’s another infectious laughter added to the mix,” Eddie says with a teary chuckle as Eliza’s wild giggle floats over to you on a crisp breeze. 

“And another one soon, I’m sure,” you say, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “I can’t picture this kid having less than an enchanting laugh.”

Eddie sniffles and nods his head. “We’re all so lucky to have you here. The best mom and the best wife.”

“Not to mention that loving and attentive father our lucky babies have. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how happy you make all of us,” you tell him. 

He tries to shrug it off, but you’re persistent. 

“It’s true! Every laugh and smile I saw from the boys in the early days was because of you. You’re the reason they had light in their lives those grade school years. And you’re the reason Eliza is as stubborn as a mule, but still the greatest kid who is full of love and laughter. And then there’s me.” You rest your chin on his shoulder and look up at him through your lashes. “I’ve never felt so safe before. So safe and loved. And I get to goof off and laugh everyday with my best friend. Cause I’m lucky enough that I got to marry my best friend.”

Eddie’s tears are coming in harder now. It brings a smile to your face, though, to know he realizes just how loved every single person in this family is. That the love only grows stronger every day and soon there will be a new little person to give and receive even more love in the Munson house. 

Your husband clears his throat and rubs over his eyes with the sleeve of his black zip-up hoodie. 

“Dad?” you hear Luke say, approaching closer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie assures him as he tries to make sure any trace of tears is gone. “I’m okay.”

“Then why were you crying?” Eliza gasps out as she runs over to the two of you. 

“Just happy,” Eddie responds, picking the three-year-old up and setting her in his lap. “I’ve got the greatest wife and kids in the world.”

“And dog,” Luke adds as Patch trots his way over. “Patch is the best.”

“And Patch,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 

The puppy puts his front two paws on the porch swing next to you and you take the hint. You bend over and pick up the precocious canine, who happily makes himself comfortable in your lap. 

Ryan comes over and sprawls out on the grass at the edge of the stone patio. He stares up at the rest of you and lets out a content sigh. 

“Dad’s a big old softy,” the sixteen-year-old quips. 

Eliza climbs up on the porch swing and Eddie has to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as the seat bucks from her movements. 

“Daddy is not soft,” Eliza states as she pokes her father’s bony shoulder. She then rubs her hand over his stubble as if to further prove her point. “Hard and scratchy.”

“What about big and old?” Luke asks, doing his best to keep a smile at bay. 

“Everyone is big compared to Liza Bean!” you butt in, reaching over with one hand to poke her belly. “She’s so teeny tiny!”

Eliza nods once in agreement. 

“Right, Mama! And, yeah, Daddy is old.”

You, Luke, and Ryan can’t help but laugh at her casual words. Eddie’s jaw drops open, and he looks at all of his family members with an affronted face. 

“I am only 41!” Your husband defends. 

“Old,” Eliza reiterates. 

Eddie grabs Eliza and clutches him close to her chest.

“Listen here, little missy!” His fingers dig into Eliza’s sides, making her squeal out in laughter. “I’m young enough to beat you up!”

“I don’t know if anyone can win against Eliza…” Ryan mutters.

“No!” Eliza shouts through her laughter. “I younger! I stronger!”

Eddie ceases his tickling and holds the three-year-old tight against his chest. 

“You can never escape.”

“Bite him!” Luke suggests.

“I’ll bite back,” Eddie says. “And my teeth are bigger.”

“Don’t want to damage your dentures,” Ryan says, a smirk dancing on his face.

You and Luke can’t help but laugh, but Eddie only narrows his eyes as his oldest son and leans into whisper something in Eliza’s ear. Your daughter’s face breaks out into a grin, and she nods her head enthusiastically. 

Eddie lets her down and takes a wide berth walking around her brothers. Neither of them takes their eyes off her small figure as Patch jumps down from your lap and follows the girl. While Eliza distracts them with the direction she’s walking, Eddie silently slips off the swing and is able to pounce on Ryan.

“Hey!” Ryan calls through laughter.

Despite how hard your eldest son tries to get free, Eddie is able to hold Ryan’s arms behind his back. With him subdued, Eliza launches herself at him, quickly glomming onto her biggest brother’s torso. 

“We got you!” Eliza calls. 

Ryan manages to get all three of them laying down on the grass, all squirming around like exposed worms looking for shelter. 

Luke simply shakes his head as he sits next to you on the porch swing. 

“Such children,” Luke admonishes. 

He uses his heels against the patio to gently push the swing back and forth as the two of you watch the other three squabble. 

“Us mature ones would never act this way,” Luke says to you.

“Never,” you agree with a chuckle.

You have no doubt something diabolical is spurning in the fourteen-year-old’s head, but you know that nothing you do or say will be able to stop it. Instead, you just lay your head down on top of Luke’s as you watch Eddie and Eliza try to keep Ryan down on the grass. 

“Mature,” you repeat to yourself. “That’s definitely us.”

[wonhes]

WARNINGS: ….. angst 😺👍 + cursing

☁︎ — JUNE 24TH, 2024 10:58 PM

blinking to try and comprehend what they heard, they all blankly look at each other as anton’s words continue ringing in their heads. trying their best to put into words what they were all thinking, they continue staring at each other in complete disbelief. shotaro is the first to break the silence by loudly scoffing at his younger friend.

shaking his head at him, he takes a step forward towards anton. bringing the back of his hand up, he smacks anton’s chest causing anton to let out a small “ow.”

“and what the actual fuck posessed you to say that?” shotaro asks, disapproval written all over his tone.

“it was a joke!” anton quickly yells back as he rubs his chest.

“look around,” eunseok states as he moves to point at the rest of the boys. “is anybody laughing?”

“i panicked, i’m sorry!” anton sighs, bringing a hand up to nervously chew on one of his fingernails. “i was just trying to lighten the mood,” he mumbles to himself.

“you said sohee was going to get a restraining order against her!” wonbin quickly yells back. “in what world is that funny?”

“okay, i did not say it like that!” anton immediately argues back, shaking his head at wonbin’s words. he doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss. anton swears he has jokingly told sohee that before and it didn’t result in him crying. he genuinely does not understand why him making that joke towards you led to you crying and locking yourself up in your room.

“if anyone should get a restraining order is yn but on this guy over here,” eunseok sighs shaking his head as he uses his index finger to point towards seunghan’s direction.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan brings a hand up to flip eunseok off; this instantly causing eunseok to flip seunghan back with both of his hands.

“she literally texts him everyday! i was just trying to be funny,” anton continued on defending himself, ignoring the two boys bickering.

“god,” shotaro sighs once more. “anton, do you not know how to read a room?”

“your sister is in love with sohee,” shotaro states. with wide eyes, anton quickly looks at your friends for confirmation. when getting the confirmation he needed, he awkwardly shifts in his spot.

“she texts him every day probably hoping he’s going to magically unblock her one of these days– she wants to work things out with him but he refuses to hear her out,” shotaro sighs, shaking his head at sohee’s way of handling the situation. “you told her he was out of town so that most likely caused her to believe you’re still in contact with him–” shotaro continues explaining. “you made a tasteless joke about sohee getting a restraining order against her so she most definitely believes that came out of his mouth.” shotaro finally concludes.

“do you now understand why your sister is crying or do i have to dumb it down some more?” shotaro speaks up once more causing eunseok to let out a small snicker at his choice of words.

“wait—” eunseok’s eyes immediately go wide. “yn,” he says, turning to his friends as they all instantly gasp and make their way up the stairs to go to your room and comfort you.

from up the stairs, eunseok turns back for a brief second and points down at seunghan. “and don’t you dare step foot upstairs,” he states before turning back to continue walking up the stairs.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan lightly pats both shotaro and anton’s chest to signal them to follow the rest up the stairs.

JUNE 24TH, 2024 11:13 PM

“baby, open the door,” wonbin sighs as he continues to knock at your door. turning back to look at sungchan and eunseok, he shakes his head at them.

“pretty girl?” sungchan tries now, jiggling your doorknob.

“sugar plum, please!” eunseok desperately yells out, wanting nothing more than to be there for you.

“baby? sugar plum? pretty girl? what the fuck?” seunghan mumbles to himself, confused on the sudden pet names you were receiving.

shaking his head at seunghan, wonbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “platonically, asshole.”

“you’re just mad yn didn’t like it when you called her pretty girl,” eunseok quickly shot back, turning to smirk at the shorter boy.

gasping at his words, shotaro and anton bring a hand up to smack their friend. “you called her ‘pretty girl’?” shotaro asks in full on disbelief.

“you fucking called my sister ‘pretty girl’?” anton angrily asks.

“ow–” seunghan states as he begins rubbing his head and arm. “sungchan just called her that and nobody fucking cared!”

“she’s my best friend!” sungchan quickly reasons back. “besides, it’s platonically. yours on the other hand was not.”

“eunseok, what else has he done.” anton asks as he continues to angrily eye his friend.

“oh, i’ll gladly tell you–” eunseok begins as he turns to look at seunghan’s panic figure shaking his head at him, pleading him to stop.

“yn,” shotaro randomly speaks up. at the sound of his voice, everyone shifts their attention towards him and watch as he brings a hand up to knock at your door.

“what the fuck are you doing?” anton whispers out towards his older friend.

“trust me,” shotaro quickly answers back before softly knocking once more. “i know you don’t know me like that but it’s shotaro,” shotaro quietly says.

“i’m really close to sohee,” he adds as he continues speaking to you against your door. “you-” at the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open he closes his mouth.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan,” you quickly state, looking up at shotaro with tears spilling from your eyes.

softly smiling down at you, he nods his head at your words. “i know,” he reassures you.

“please tell him that,” you desperately plea with him.

as you watch him shake his head at you, you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. looking up at him once more you try to plea once again.

“i’m not going to tell him because you are,” shotaro says, sending you a warm smile as he takes out his phone to text sohee.

“i’m going to text sohee and tell him i’m coming over so he’ll know to expect someone over,” shotaro tells you as he finishes typing on his phone. “but instead of it being me, it’ll be you.”

shaking your head at his words, you couldn’t help but let tears spill. desperately running to whichever one of your friends was closest to you for emotional support.

“oof,” wonbin softly says, taken back at the sudden contact. quickly snapping out of it, he brings his hands to your frame to hug you back.

“he’s going to get a restraining order,” you sob, hiding your head on his chest.

hearing your words, eunseok annoyingly turns to anton as he brings a hand to slap the back of his head. “you fucking see what you did?”

“baby, he’s not going to get a restraining order,” wonbin lightly laughs to try and reassure you. “do you know how silly that sounds?”

“sohee told anton,” you mumble, hugging wonbin tighter to try and calm yourself down.

angrily turning to look at your younger brother, it’s sungchan’s turn to slap the back of anton’s head. “you fucking see?”

“ow— it was a fucking joke!” anton whispers back.

“he’s not going to get a restraining order, i promise,” shotaro states, side eyeing anton in complete annoyance. “sohee never said that, i swear.”

“i can even show you our texts–” shotaro continues trying as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “he wouldn’t do that.”

“he wants to talk things out, trust me. he’s just hard headed.” the older boy tells you.

“very hard headed,” seunghan mumbles to himself, agreeing with shotaro.

discreetly nodding his head at their words, eunseok slowly makes his way to where you and wonbin were standing.

“move. my turn!” eunseok pushes wonbin off of you and quickly takes over, hugging you gently as he places a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“what the actual fuck is your problem, eunseok!?” wonbin groans, shaking his head at his friend as he dusts himself off.

“what? i’m just trying to be here for my best friend,” eunseok reasons, causing you to let out a small chuckle at their banter.

“okay! now, it’s my turn,” sungchan says, making his way towards you.

smiling at the sight of you no longer crying, anton begins walking towards you as well. “i’m sorry you have a stupid little brother,” he sighs as he sends you a sad smile.

“i got nervous and made a dumb joke,” anton admits to you as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “i’m also so fucking sorry for the way i spoke to you the other day, you didn’t deserve that all.”

“i don’t know what i was thinking. i was just so angry and instead of taking it out on seunghan– like i should’ve– i took it out on you,” anton sadly states, completely ignoring seunghan reaction at his sudden words. “i-” anton continues once more but stops at the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso.

“it’s okay toni,” you softly smile up at him.

“not trying to interrupt anything,” shotaro speaks up, taking a step forward as he looks down at his phone “sohee texted back.”

at the sound of sohee’s name, you instantly turn to look back at shotaro. sending you a small smile your way, he nods at you. “go.”

“go get your sohee.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 12:26 AM

with a shaky breath, you close your eyes to try and calm yourself down before bringing a hand up to ring his doorbell. at the sound of his doorbell ringing you feel your heart hammer against your chest even faster— if that was even possible. now or never, you keep quietly mumbling to yourself as an attempt to calm down.

“taro-” sohee tiredly says as he opens his door. at the sight of you in front of him, sohee does a complete double take and stares at you with wide eyes.

“h-hi,’ you quietly mumble, nervously playing with your hands.

staring back at you, sohee couldn’t help but take notice on how red your eyes were. have you been crying? sohee sadly asks himself. he feels himself wanting to reach out for you to reassure you everything was okay. but instead, he quickly shakes his head at his thoughts, forcing yourself to snap out of it. you’re with seunghan, he reminds himself.

“go home yn,” sohee sighs as he tightly grips on the door handle.

“baby, can we please talk?” you desperately ask, taking a step closer to him.

“don’t-” he closes his eyes to try and calm himself down. “don’t call me that.”

“pretty boy-”

“is this funny to you?” sohee groans out as he steps outside while looking at you with tears in his eyes. “stop teasing me and go home.”

“i’m not-” you try but get interrupted by sohee’s scoff. “sohee, please.”

“yn, what do you want to talk about?” sohee asks, shaking his head at you. “if you wanted seunghan, you could’ve told me, you know?” he sadly states. “i would’ve backed off.”

“i don’t-”

“i heard you and anton talking that day,’ sohee cuts you off, not wanting to hear any of your lies. “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”

“baby, you’re not,” you quickly move towards him to comfort him causing him to take a step back, away from you. sadly looking down at the space between y’all, you try and swallow your tears despite your heart breaking by the second.

“please, go home.” sohee tries again, gesturing you to walk away

“i’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” you firmly state, shaking your head at him. “bab-”

“don’t call me that!” sohee brokenly stops you. “you lost the privilege to call me that the second you decided you wanted my best friend,” he angrily brings a hand to wipe away his tears.

“i don’t-” you try talking once again but are once again stopped by sohee talking over you.

“i’ve been so fucking in love with and i thought-” sohee gulps. “i thought you were starting to feel the same way too. i thought it was finally mutual.”

“sohee,” you sadly say as you take a step forward to grab his hand. not having it in him to move once again, sohee lets you grab him. letting out a small sniffle, he brings his attention back towards you. at the sight of his tear stained cheeks you feel your heart break all over again.

“d-do you like seunghan?” sohee hesitantly asks as more tears begin to cloud his vision.

“baby, no,” you gently say, as you bring a hand to cup his cheek and wipe away his tears. “i like you.”

“then why did you kiss him?” he sniffles.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you begin, causing sohee to shake his head at your words and take a step back away from your touch.

“baby,” you desperately try to reach out for him. placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you try and get him to look at you. “look at me, please.”

listening to you, sohee hesitantly removes his focus from the ground and makes eye contact with you.

“the thought of you and seunghan together hurts me so fucking much,” sohee admittedly whispers out. shaking your head at his words, you bring a hand down and place it against his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “it hurts— it hurts so much,” he repeatedly mumbles.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan.” you reassure him.

“but, anton said-”

“i didn’t kiss seunghan but anton did walk in on seunghan trying to kiss me,” you hesitantly told him. processing your words, sohee finds himself letting go of your hand and creating distance between you two.

“baby, wait. please listen to me,” you say, catching his hand before it fully slipped away.

“were you gonna kiss him back?” sohee asks, looking down at you with watery eyes.

“no.” you immediately reassure him. “i only ever want to kiss you.”

“have you ever had feelings for seunghan?” sohee sadly asks, still trying to piece together the whole situation. “please don’t lie to me.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 1:48 AM

sitting down on his bed, you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you wait for sohee to speak up. you were finally able to explain everything and he’s been quietly processing the situation ever since.

“why didn’t you tell me he was pursuing you?” sohee breaks the silence, looking at you with hurt written all over his eyes.

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” you try reasoning with him. “i thought i was protecting you—”

“bab- yn” sohee sighs. “that’s not protecting me, that’s leaving me in the dark.”

“my best friend was going after my girlfriend, don’t you think i would want to know that?” sohee bitterly laughs. “i would’ve loved to know that my girlfriend once had feelings for him too.”

“baby, it was just a tiny crush.” you quickly jump to your defense. “i was in denial—”

“you still should’ve told me,” sohee lets out one last sigh as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“i should’ve,” you nod your head at him and shift your focus down to your hands.

“it’s getting late you should go-”

“that’s it?” you sadly ask, looking at him with wide eyes.

“are we still-”

“we can be friends,” sohee cuts you off, offering you a small smile. “i don’t think we should date.”

“ever?” you quietly ask. “never again?”

“c-can i fix this?” you hesitantly ask. scooting closer to him, you take his hand in yours. “i can fix this, i promise.”

“yn,” sohee mumbles, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“this was all just a big misunderstanding,” you desperately plea with him.

“pretty girl, you still kept secrets from me,” sohee softly states. “i’m not mad at you,” he reassures you. “we can still talk but as friends— at least just for now.”

“friends,” you defeatedly state, scared that if you continue pushing he might completely pull away from you again.

not being able to help himself, sohee leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. there’s no denying that he still holds— and will always hold— strong feelings for you but truth be told, he’s terrified to try again. so, he’ll settle for a friendship instead, at least just for now. “friends.”

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

CHAPTER 44 — friends

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

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[theshift]

The Breakout

Before everything fell apart, Marcus had a life that he was proud of. He wasn’t some thug or low-life; he had his routines, his ambitions. Boxing was his escape, the one place where he felt in control. He spent hours in the gym, the sound of fists hitting heavy bags and the smell of sweat filling the air as he trained. There was something about the discipline, the focus, the rhythm of a good fight that made the chaos of the outside world fade away. He wasn’t a pro, but he was good—damn good—and he was starting to get noticed. On weekends, he’d run along the river, feeling the early morning breeze, imagining his next match. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was his, and he had a future lined up. That was before it all got ripped away—before he was framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Now, that life seemed like a distant dream, one he’d never wake up to again. The real world, the one he’d worked so hard for, felt like it had vanished forever.

Marcus had been in prison for two long months. His life had been ripped away, and now he was just another inmate waiting for judgment in a system that didn’t care.

But even worse than being locked up was dealing with Officer Nathan, the patrol officer who took sick pleasure in making Marcus’s life miserable. Nathan was cruel. Every day he found a new way to degrade Marcus. Whether it was spilling his food on the ground or shouting insults that cut deeper than the metal bars around him, Nathan loved to remind Marcus who was in control.

Today had been no different. As Marcus sat on his cot, his mind still reeling from the news of his sentencing—fifteen years—Nathan showed up at his cell with that same smirk.

“Well, well, look at you. Fifteen years, huh? Guess you’re gonna rot here for a while,” Nathan sneered, leaning against the bars. “Bet you thought you’d get off easy. But nobody cares about some low-life scum like you.”

Marcus clenched his fists, staring at the floor. He couldn’t believe it. Fifteen years for something he didn’t do. His whole life—gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to ignore Nathan’s voice.

“You know what the best part is?” Nathan continued, his voice dripping with cruelty. “You’ll be here, getting old and wasting away, while I’m out there. Free. Living my life. Makes you wonder why you even bother fighting, doesn’t it?”

Marcus’s body tensed. “I didn’t do it.”

Nathan barked out a laugh. “Sure, that’s what they all say. Keep telling yourself that, Marcus. Doesn’t change a damn thing.” He tapped the bars with his baton, a sharp clink ringing out. “You belong here. And I’m going to make sure every day feels like hell for you. Count on it.”

Marcus couldn’t take it anymore. The injustice, the humiliation—it all boiled inside him. He couldn’t live like this, not for fifteen years. His hands shook, his breath coming in sharp gasps as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry. Go ahead,” Nathan jeered. “Cry like the pathetic loser you are.”

Something snapped inside Marcus.

“You think you’re untouchable,” Marcus muttered, his voice low, trembling with rage.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Marcus slowly lifted his head, eyes burning with something darker, something Nathan had never seen before. “You think you’re better than me because you’re on that side of the bars? Because you can do whatever you want to people like me?”

Nathan chuckled, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes now. “Yeah, I do. What are you gonna do about it?”

Marcus’s lips twisted into a cold smile as he stood up, his body humming with a power he had always kept hidden, a power he had refused to use until now. His gaze locked onto Nathan, and the room seemed to thrum with a strange energy.

Nathan stepped back from the bars, suddenly on edge. “What’s your deal, man? Sit down before you do something stupid.”

But Marcus didn’t stop. His eyes were like burning coals, and a strange pressure filled the air around them. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, feeling the dark energy swirling within him like a storm, ready to be unleashed.

He had never wanted to use his gift, but this was different. This was survival.

Marcus's body felt weightless as he reached out mentally, a strange, ethereal sensation that began to rise from the depths of his chest. The connection to Nathan was immediate—a tether of energy, dark and tangible, latching onto him like invisible chains. Marcus’s mind surged toward Nathan, slipping through the cracks of his consciousness, feeling his presence as if it were a physical thing.

The shift was sudden, a jarring sensation that sent Nathan stumbling backward. His hands shot up to his head, as if he could physically block Marcus’s intrusion, but it was already too late. Marcus could feel Nathan’s mind now—panicked, scattered, full of raw terror.

“No—what are you doing?” Nathan’s voice was sharp, trembling with fear.

Marcus’s smile widened. His consciousness flooded Nathan’s mind like dark water, consuming him, pushing past every mental wall the officer tried to erect. It was a slow process, deliberate, like sinking into quicksand, inch by inch, until Nathan’s screams became muffled in the back of his own mind.

Nathan staggered back against the wall, his body twitching as Marcus took over. From the outside, it looked like Nathan was having some kind of seizure, his face contorting in shock as his limbs jerked, resisting the possession. But Marcus was relentless. He pushed deeper, feeling his own awareness settle into Nathan’s body as though slipping on a perfectly tailored suit.

Nathan's mind screamed, trapped now as a mere voice, a presence that Marcus could feel but had full control over. “Stop! Get out! You can’t do this!”

Marcus ignored him. He flexed Nathan’s fingers, feeling the strength of his new form. The once-familiar prison walls looked different through Nathan’s eyes—sharper, crisper. Marcus rolled his shoulders, testing the muscles that now responded to his command.

Inside, Nathan’s terror grew. “What are you—get out of my body!”

Marcus’s laugh, low and cruel, rumbled through Nathan’s throat. “Oh, Nathan… you’re not in charge anymore.”

With one final surge of effort, Marcus forced Nathan’s consciousness into the back of his mind, shoving him deep into a corner, trapping him in the prison of Marcus’s old body. Nathan was now locked away, his pleas for help falling on deaf ears as Marcus stood tall in his stolen skin.

Nathan, now trapped in Marcus’s body, staggered forward, horrified at the sight of his own hands—Marcus’s hands—reaching out toward him, mocking him. He tried to scream, but Marcus simply sneered. “Enjoy being on the other side of those bars. I’ll make sure to give you the same treatment you gave me.”

Marcus felt the real Nathan's panic, buried deep inside his old body, helpless and confused, as the guards dragged him away. “No! You don’t understand—I’m not Marcus! I’m Nathan! Please!”

But no one listened. To everyone else, it was just Marcus losing his mind.

Meanwhile, Marcus—now fully in control of Nathan’s body—strolled through the prison halls, relishing the newfound power. Nathan’s voice screamed in the back of his head, but Marcus simply tuned him out, reveling in the freedom and control he had never felt before.

“You’ve had your fun, Nathan,” Marcus muttered under his breath, his voice sounding strange but powerful. “Now it’s my turn.”

Nathan was trapped inside Marcus’s body, powerless, screaming silently as Marcus turned and walked down the hallway in his new form. The other guards greeted him with nods of respect, completely unaware of the switch.

As Marcus settled into Nathan's body, something unexpected surfaced from the officer's memories—Nathan was secretly into men. Hidden beneath his tough exterior and cruel demeanor was a desire he had never dared to act on, a truth he kept buried deep, afraid of what it would mean for his image as the hardened officer. And to Marcus's surprise, Nathan had even found him attractive, though he would have never admitted it. The irony was delicious.

Now, with full control of Nathan's body, Marcus realized he could have the life Nathan was too scared to embrace. He wasted no time. With Nathan’s face, his fit build, and authority, Marcus quickly began to attract attention, something Nathan had always fantasized about but never had the nerve to act on. Marcus, on the other hand, had no qualms about indulging in what Nathan had suppressed. Within days, he had hooked up with men who were drawn to his new appearance—something Nathan had always dreamed of but never had the courage to pursue. It wasn’t just about the power; it was about taking Nathan’s secret desires and living them out in ways Nathan never could.

More days passed, and Marcus, now in Nathan’s body, relished every moment of his new life. He took over Nathan’s duties, tormenting the real Nathan—trapped inside Marcus’s old body. Every time Marcus walked by, he could see the fear in his own face, the panic in Nathan’s eyes as he tried to tell the guards what had happened.

“Nobody’s listening, Nathan,” Marcus whispered one day as he passed by the cell. “They think you’ve lost it. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Nathan, trapped and powerless, screamed, banging on the bars of the cell. “Stop this! Please! I’m not Marcus! I’m not him!”

But no one believed him. To the other guards, he was just another inmate losing his mind.

Marcus continued his life as Nathan, basking in the power that came with it. He spent a week tormenting the real Nathan, letting the other guards treat him the same way Nathan had treated Marcus. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and he loved every second of it.

One day, Marcus stood in front of a mirror in Nathan’s office, staring at the reflection of Nathan’s face. A thought struck him.

“Why waste this? Why stay here as some low-life prison officer?” he murmured to himself. He grinned, running a hand over Nathan’s strong jawline. “I could do so much more.”

The next morning, Marcus handed in Nathan’s resignation. He was done with this place, with this pathetic life. He had bigger plans. He left the prison behind without a second glance, the real Nathan screaming in his own body, now doomed to serve the sentence Marcus was supposed to endure.

And Marcus? He moved to the city, reinvented himself as a model. Nathan’s looks, once wasted on cruelty, now served Marcus well. The spotlight loved him, and he embraced his new life, his new identity.

As Marcus rose to fame, Nathan remained locked in a cell, forgotten, living the nightmare he had once created for others.

And Marcus? He was finally free.

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m so excited that ur requests are open again!! Could you do a fic with Eddie and reader that are enemies but are in a parenting class and get partnered to take care of a fake baby together this causes them to get to know one another better and eventually fall for each other

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Parenting class

Eddie and Y/N did not get along and everyone knew that. Eddie wasn't sure why he hated Y/N but he knew he did. Y/N thought Eddie was loud and annoying. They bickered anytime they were in a room together.

They only had one class together and it was health. Most of the time Eddie ditched so Y/N lived in her small victories. But a new lesson was being taught- parenting. And to make it worse, they got partnered together.

Y/N groaned as she walked over to Eddie's table and slammed her books down.

"Well hello to you too, gorgeous." Eddie teased. He loved getting under her skin and driving her insane.

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes and sat down

They sat in silence as the teacher explained the project and then handed them a fake baby doll.

"Look, he's kinda ugly, like you!" Eddie smirked as he held the baby and shoved it in her face

"I would rather be a single mom than spend a second pretending to have a child together."

~~~

Eddie had the first shift with the baby. They flipped a coin and he lost. Now he was listening to a fake baby cry non-stop as he tried to sleep. He swore he tried everything, he fed him, changed him, burped him, he did everything Y/N wrote on the list, but the fucker wouldn't stop crying.

He got out of bed and turned on his lamp, he grabbed his dirty jeans off the floor and dug in the pockets. Once he found the piece of paper he was looking for, he walked out to the kitchen to grab the phone.

He tried to zone out the crying as the phone rang, sighing in relief when someone picked up

"Hello?"

"I can't get that baby to shut up," Eddie growled into the phone

"Eddie, I wrote everything down, just read. Goodnight," Y/N yawned

"You don't think I've tried everything? Trust me, calling you is my last resort. Can you come over and just help me?"

"Why should I do that?" she scoffed

"Fine, but if you ever need help I ain't coming," Eddie argued, he went to hang up but she stopped him

"What's your address?"

~

Eddie was cradling the baby doll as he waited for Y/N to arrive. He sighed in relief when he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door and Y/N slipped inside.

"My uncle is in bed so we'll go to my room," Eddie whispered, even though he was sure the baby woke him up

Y/N nodded and followed him into the room

"Hand him over," Y/N sighed, her eyes heavy as the sleep never left her body.

Eddie handed him over, watching with curious eyes as she tucked the baby in her arms. He watched in awe as she cradled the baby and bounced him in her arms, the cries dying out.

Y/N smiled as the baby seemed to calm down

"Do you have a magical touch or something?" Eddie joked, wiping the tiredness from his eyes

Y/N looked up at him, just noticing he was shirtless. She quickly looked at his face and gave him a smirk

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased

Eddie rolled his eyes but he couldn't help smiling

"Not even if I was dying, dear," he joked.

"Where does he sleep? I'll set him down," Y/N offered as she stood up

"On the bed," Eddie shrugged. He stood up and pulled the sheets back, she stepped next to him. Her soft skin touched his as she set the baby on the bed.

"Hopefully he'll stay asleep until the morning," Y/N said

"I'll walk you out," Eddie offered, Y/N nodded and walked behind him.

"Thank you for helping," he said as he opened the door

"I was helping the baby, don't flatter yourself."

Eddie smiled to himself as she walked out.

~~~

Over the next few weeks, Eddie and Y/N found themselves calling each other for help. Which forced them to hang out and talk to each other.

They learned a few things about each other, which seemed to humanize them. Y/N learned things about Eddie that she liked, and made her look at him differently. Eddie knew that Y/N had struggles in her own life and maybe he was too hard on her.

They didn't realize how easy it was to get along. Eddie found himself enjoying Y/N's presence and wanted her around more. He liked how soft and gentle she was with the baby, it showed a different side of her that he didn't know existed.

Y/N liked seeing Eddie try at something and seeing him care. She even began to find herself attracted to him. He was more open with her and she found herself wishing she could heal all his wounds.

By the time they finished the project, they both formed a huge crush on each other. They got comfortable and began to flirt, testing the waters.

Eddie wanted to ask her out but he was a bit nervous she would say no. He didn't know if being together changed anything or if it was just him. With the project finished, they didn't have an excuse to see each other and Eddie knew the longer he waited the easier it would be for her to find someone else.

He didn't know that she was thinking the same thing. She noticed that he didn't pick on her to make her insecure, but more of picking on her to make her blush. Their comments were less harsh, and he began to compliment her.

Eddie was too chicken to do it in person, so he waited until he got home from school and could ask over the phone.

He gave himself a little pep-talk before he picked up the phone and dialed her number

"Hello?"

He smiled when he heard her voice

"Hey, it's Eddie, I was wondering if you might be interested in getting food together? Like on a date," he swore he was holding his breath once he finished his sentence.

"I'll be ready at seven, and I'd bring flowers if I were you," she said before she hung up, smiling to herself.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[suosteacup]

But Mama I’m in love with a criminal / And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical / Mama please don’t cry, I will be alright / All reason aside I just can’t deny, I love the guy.// - Britney Spears, “Criminal”

^ this best describes me after reading Tokyo Vice 😳🫣🥵 anyways—

cw blood

Drew @yinyuedijun’s yakuza!Suo for @pixelcafe-network’s Challenge Friday, with Challenge #2 being a music prompt (see song above). I’ve been entranced by Mao’s depiction of Suo in a yakuza au setting ever since Sincerity seriously I always mistype it as yaluza smh stupid keyboard 😭 and been bugging them about how he usually wears when dispatching some guys… was gonna incorporate some Chinese motif in his clothes but the handsome suit he wore in the official illustration still really slaps me in the puthy 😳🫣 (plus leather gloves); also I think yakuza au Suo’s weapon of choice would be a katana or any razor-sharp long object 🗡

Dividers c/o @cafekitsune + @adornedwithlight 🫶🏻

Likes are okay, reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY SUOSTEACUP © 2024

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-rough sex, anal play, daddy kink, deep throating, oral (both receiving)

ꕥ Word Count- 8.5k

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 8 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 9

You blink sleepily, opening your eyes to watch the sun filter through the blinds of the hotel room, and you feel a light caressing down your tummy. Your eyes shut again, as you feel strong arms around you, as you feel one of his heavy, muscled thighs shoved firm between your plush ones. He’s pressing up as he pushes on your hip, pressing that thigh up.

You whimper in pleasure, as you’re growing hot against him, and he moans softly, kissing your neck and pressing you tighter against him. Your hand reaches for his own, entwining your fingers and bringing it to your lips, kissing the scarred, rough hand, one you really didn’t know enough about. All you know is you love them, his big rough hands in yours.

Toji exhales softly, tickling your neck, then he’s got you flipped on top of him, and you look down at his handsome face, tracing a fingertip down his scar, as your hair falls like a curtain on the side of your face. Toji reaches up, grabbing your hips and pressing you down, and you cry out as you feel his length against you, pressing right between your lips.

“T-Toji…” You whisper, your voice still sleepy, crying out when he’s got your tits in his hands, over his soft white shirt you’d slept in.

“Beautiful, doll, waking up to this? M’fucking dreaming.” His husky morning voice breaks you completely, as does how his dark lashes lower over those mossy green eyes, and you kiss his forehead softly, then his cheeks, pecking kisses everywhere you could see.

“I thought last night was a dream.” You whisper, grinding on him then, making him tense, growing harder against you under his sweats. “But, you’re here.”

“I’m here, doll. Right… here…” He presses up again, dragging you against his length again then it’s too much, you’re yanking off his shirt, then sliding down, pulling down his slutty ass gray sweats, and he’s sucking in a breath, his ab muscles tensing as you go lower. “Doll…”

“Want you in my throat.” You whisper, looking at him then, his eyes narrowed, vermillion lips parted as you pull his thick cock out, stroking it from that base of curly dark hair up to his leaky red tip, lapping it up with your tongue.

“Fuck…” He hisses then, as you suckle right at that little line, where pre cum is pouring out, and he grips your hair in his big hands, snapping his hips up, shoving that cock all the way in your mouth. “You’re the death of me, too fuckin good at it.”

“Mmm…” Is all you can manage as you’re sucking him, stroking your hands in little twists up and down his length, he twitches in your mouth, and your eyes lock. He is pulling your hair so hard it’s pricking little tears in your eyes, and you’re drooling all over him as you watch him fall apart for you.

Toji, big strong Toji, is reduced to a mess as you work him, as you taste his sweat, and you like it, you love his salty precum, you’d suck it all day. Everything about him, as he’s now groaning so sexy, shoving your face down on his cock now, deeper, and you breathe through your nostrils, taking him as deep as you can. Your nose pressed against his pelvis before he yanks you off.

“Get up here, now.” He orders, and you giggle a bit, shaking your head and looking right at him, batting your lashes.

“No, daddy I’m having fun.” He narrows those eyes, jaw tensing, then on your lick up the veins of his thick cock he’s got you flipped under him, shoving two fingers in your eager, slick entry, making you scream out. “T-Toji!”

“Nuh uh.” He smacks your little cunt, and you hiss and the sting, blinking rapidly as you try to gain your senses.

“Daddy.”

“Mmhmm, what do you want, fuckin brat?” He smacks your cunt again, before sliding two fingers back in, and your wetness makes the lewdest noises as he scissors his thick digits inside you.

“Wanted to- ah- suck you off. Dick. Ow!” Now he’s smacked your cunt again, hard this time. “Daddy.”

“You’re such a fucking brat, swear ya don’t learn do ya?” You just smirk now, earning a playful glare.

“I’m a slow learner, daddy, I’m sorry.” You reach down to stroke his sensitive cock again, giggling like crazy when he’s got your wrist in a brutal grip.

“You’re psycho I swear.” He grumbles, then he’s lifted your leg, dragging you by your hips, lining his cock up, and you feel his tip pressing just into that tight ring of muscles, and fuck if you’re not close from just that. He exhales, cupping your face gently for a moment, studying you. “Tell me what you want, doll. Words.”

“Want you in me, daddy. Please. Ngh!” You scream out then, gasping as he slides his thick length to the fucking hilt, and he’s tense above you, face contorted in pleasure.

“Oh fuck .” He’s sliding out, his hips snapping up then as he shoves his entire length inside, making your body rock, pleasure coursing through your entire body.

You love it, you love this, love the way he’s holding your hips tight and bruising with one hand, as his other delicately holds your jaw. As he’s giving you long, hard strokes, but they’re slow , they’re intimate. You love feeling him, rolling up your hips and gasping, as his cock is sliding nearly all the way out before he thrusts back in, your cunt gripping him like a vise.

“Fuck me harder, Daddy, harder please...” You scream out, your walls tightening around him and he’s groaning like he’s in pain, those abs of his flexing, his chest flushing with his exertion, cheeks reddened as he huffs over you.

“You’re a little whore f’me, ya fuckin know that?” He says with a smirk, and you just nod, loving it when he calls you names. “ My whore, my slut, my little fuck doll.”

His possessiveness kills you, along with his nasty fucking words, and you’re even wetter around him, whining when he rolls those talented hips, his cock dragging against your walls. “Y-yes, Daddy, yours .” You repeat, and he’s sliding in and out of you, fucking you so good, so deep it’s unreal.

You’re shaking, as he grows sweaty working over you, now he leans back, spreading your thighs, and he’s got his thumb pressing right on your clit, pressing down as he’s fucking you, and you feel your climax close as he rubs it, he knows just where, just what pressure. Your eyes roll back as he’s got a leg up on his chest, kissing down your calf, down your ankle.

His tongue slips to your toes, making you squeal, and he grins. “You’re… s’nasty… Toji….”

“You fuckin love it, little slut.” You just nod, whining when he bites the thin skin of your ankle. “Cum all over Daddy’s cock, doll. Lemme feel that tight fuckin cunt soak my cock.”

You obey, of course you do, how can you not when Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock is shoving deep inside, stretching your little hole, when his rough pad of that thumb rubs your clit just so. When he’s looking at you like that? Of course you cum, shattering around him, losing vision as you gush all over, and he’s groaning, gripping your leg so tight it will bruise.

You whine out, gasping, and his head falls back, so fucking sexy, as you watch that Adam’s apple bob up and down under dark stubble, and he’s feeling you pulse around his length, that weeping tip dragging on your spot. He’s moaning now, shoving his thumb in your mouth.

“Taste that, little slut. Taste how wet ya get f’me.” You eagerly suck on that thumb, and he’s moaning now, coming to lay on you, his heavy weight so perfect on your body, now he’s fucking even harder, on hand on the side of your head, inky black hair falling over a brow.

He’s making you feel like you’re going to break, and your nails are digging into his shoulders, leaving half moons as you try to hold on. He’s slamming his lips against yours now, and drinking your cries, pumping harder and harder in your already sore cunt, and you tremble as you feel yourself close again, as each stroke sends you higher.

“Let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry, let me hear you scream f’me.” He’s grunting it out now, as your walls clamping down so hard around him, his cock jolts in response. “It’s just us.”

“Just- us- ah! Daddy! ” You scream out now, and he groans right with you, as you let go of anything and everything, letting Toji fuck you stupid. He’s gripping your waist with his rough hands, and your eyes lock. Yours are cock drunk off him, your brows drawing together, struggling to focus as you’re pulled higher and higher.

“Ready f’me? Can you take- ah- all of it?” You nod, and he slams his lips on yours then, shoving up so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him fucking everywhere, then he’s fucking with hard slaps, so rough it’s painful, but you love it. “Feel me fuckin your guts up, huh?”

“Sh-shut up… Toji. Mnh!” You’ve earned a light smack on your pretty face, then Toji’s hand wrapped around your throat.

“Bratty lil fuckin’ mouth. You shouldn’t be able to- ha- talk.” You’re dying now, as he’s choking you so hard, and wrecking your cunt, rubbing those sore walls raw, but you want him to. Feeling like Toji will split you in two is indescribable.

You can’t speak anymore, your eyes have rolled back, your mouth is stupidly open and your little tongue is lolling out, and Toji’s looking at you as he’s squeezing, as he’s fucking you, as he’s owning you. You are getting fuzzier and fuzzier, as he takes your oxygen, his own face contorted in pleasure, veins popping out of his neck, which you eagerly grip with limp hands.

Then he’s cumming, and so are you, his loud moan mixing with your broken whimper, as it’s fading to black while you’re shattering, cumming so hard it hurts, filled with Toji’s white cum. It’s coating your walls, his cock is pulsing more and more, so much it’s fucking stupid, and you’re gushing it all back out and down him, cumming so hard you’re convulsing.

He finally releases your throat, and you struggle to breathe, holding your throat and coughing then, as you greedily suck up the air he’d prevented. Then he’s kissing you again, and there’s no hope to catch that breath, not when he is utterly taking over your body and mind.

“Stupid f’me. Huh, doll?” He huffs, pulling out now, and his cum and your arousal slide and drip out of your sore little cunt. You whine at the sensation, at how sore you really are, and he’s softly rubbing the neck he’d left two hand prints on.

“You’re s-stupid.” You choke out, making him glare again, and you manage a breathy giggle, before he’s got you spun, on your knees now, whacking your ass so loud it reverberates in the room. “Ah! Ah, fuck !” You cry out, and he’s not going easy either, he’s thwacking you so good there’s welps.

“Ya done running that pretty mouth?” You nod weakly, and then bury your head in the bed, soft blankets making your already heated face even hotter, when he’s shoving the cum that’s poured back in your cunt. “Say sorry, be a good girl f’me.”

“Sorry, daddy, I am.” You look back and pout at him, viewing that sight behind you, his eyes locked on your pussy, his entire body glistening with sweat, enhancing every muscle he has.

“Good girl, let daddy take care of her.” He’s sinking off the bed on his knees now, and when you feel his tongue slide between your juicy lips of your cunt, lapping his own cum off you, you scream at it. “Fuck we taste good together.”

“Sensitive, daddy, ngh!” He’s humming against you, his big hands grabbing your ass and dragging it to his face, his chin is on your clit as he drinks both of your cum greedily out of your hole. “Ah! Fuck!”

“Mmmh, ya taste so good doll, I need you cumming again.”

You shiver, your cunt is somehow still soaked for this man and you can’t fathom how you have that much pouring out ( stay hydrated, reader ) but Toji is now fucking you with his tongue, taking it all down his throat, and you’re arching back, stupid mouth open again, eyes slamming shut as the pleasure works through you. You’re cumming again, you’ve lost count, you’re barely clinging on.

Once he’s lavved you clean, humming his satisfaction, his cock is sliding against you again, and you tense, hips jerking back. “Toji, my pussy hurts, I can’t go another round.”

“Can’t fuckin take dick, huh?”

“You left for months, so no , I cannot.” You turn and stick your tongue out, earning another smack that jerks your entire body.

“I haven’t had enough of ya, I need you to get that shit stamina in check.”

“Me!? Listen it hurts, your dick is huge and you’re not gentle shithead.”

“Shithead huh!?”

“Mmhmm! Ow!”

“Thought ya loved me, now I’m a shithead?” You giggle breathlessly, sinking your head on your arms, exhaling.

“I do love you, but you’re a shithead. Mmnh. Toji even eating me out is too much right now, I can only cum so much.” He’s back to licking you like a fiend, as if your pussy is the only thing that will fill him up and he’s starved. Then he flicks up, and you gasp when he’s got his tongue on that little hole. “Toji, don’t lick there!?”

“Why not, don’t like it?” He does it again, making you shiver in pleasure.

“I do, but that’s…”

“Nasty?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Doll, I’m nasty as fuck.” He’s doing it again, burying his face between your cheeks now, and that stubble scratches as his tongue flicks.

“Don’t- you- ah!- need to see… Megumi?”

“I’ll see him after I’m done with you. For at least a few.” He’s fingering your ass then and you’re screaming out at how good it feels, as his other fingers find your clit and press. “You like it, don’t ya doll?”

“S’good but… freaky fucking… Toji! Mnph! Did you just spit on it!?”

“I love spitting on you.” You shiver as he spreads the sticky spit all over your ass, plunging his thick finger back in, the burn makes you hiss, his other hand is now pulling at your hair, bringing you up to your knees in front of him. “Should let me take it first in all your fuckin holes.”

“Nasty… man, ngh…” He’s smirking right at you, as your eyes are fluttering shut from the stupid amount of sensations being pulled with expert, nasty fucking fingers.

“Not now then, scared little brat.”

“Not scared!”

“Mmhmm.” He eases his fingers out, stopping that insane pressure. “We’ll go spend time with Megumi, then.”

“We!? You mean you.”

“Nah, he needs to spend time with his step mom.” He’s grinning bright and white as you smack at him, turning and shoving his stupidly strong body.

“You stop that shit. So full of it.” You huff, blowing your hair out of your face while he’s got you in a tight hold.

“Think I’m full of it?” You nod with a glare. “Why, what’s wrong with the idea of being a stepmom?”

“We’d have to be married, idiot.”

“And.”

You blink then, confusion washing through you, and before you can demand he stop being so stupid , he has decided to slam a kiss on your lips, slack and open. You yank back. “Toji don’t say shit like that, I’m already fucked up enough from you. You’d never marry again, and I already know that.”

“I know I said that before. But…” He tilts your chin up, and his gaze is so easy to fall into, to lose yourself in, this man who’d just drank his cum out of you and smacked your ass so hard it’s burning. This man who’d just had a finger in your ass and even lapped at your toes. He’s somehow… sweet, genuine, loving.

You shake your head at the suggestion, at his look, your own eyes darting away, lashes lowering over them. “Don’t say that, don’t.”

“Think I wouldn’t, brat?”

“I know you wouldn’t. Let’s just… get ready.” You shove off him, you can’t have your heart anymore crushed than it would be when he leaves again, or when your dad finds out, fuck when everyone finds out.

How is there some future of a happy wedding and baby for you two?

And the agony of not believing it’s existence has you in tears.

“Doll… you too young for it?” He asks, suddenly holding your shoulders, and you exhale, shaking your head.

“That’s not it. It’s just, I can’t even think like that. I just wanna have fun with you while you’re here. I know it won’t be long.”

“I’ll keep seeing ya, doll, and bring you home to me on-”

“On breaks? What would I tell dad?”

He sighs, looking away then, running a hand through that shiny black hair. “You’re the rational one now!?”

“I guess fucking so. But… Toji?” He looks at you, his jaw tense, as you wrap your arms around him. “I don’t care, I’ll wait for the once every couple of months to fuck you. I won’t be with anyone else. I’m too ruined now.”

“Doll…” You’re tracing that cleft on his chin with your fingertip, and shut his mouth with a finger. “I want more than-”

“Shh. Don’t give me so much hope. Just kisses.” You’re yanking him down, and his hands grip you everywhere, until he lifts you, slamming you into the wall, and fuck if you won’t go again, even as your little cunt just hates you, no you’d push yourself to be consumed.

“I want more than that. Making me fsay it. Have me a whiny little bitch lately.” He speaks between kisses, as you both lose your breath. You taste his cum and yours on his tongue, that nasty, wicked tongue that annihilates any sense you have. “More than… that.”

“More?” He nods, gulping, and now you’re wrapped around him, legs around his lean hips, your arms around his strong neck, he holds you in his huge hands, and you feel your cunt throbbing as he’s pressing against you.

“Not just more sex. More you, doll.” You blink back tears then, and his face softens, a hand sliding up to cup it gently, delicately holding on and just watching you now. “More of you.”

“Toji… how…”

“Just come with me.”

“Toji I can’t! That’s selfish to ask. Sorry college, I need Toji’s dick.”

He grins at that, white teeth glinting, mischievous fucking look in those dark green eyes. “Ay, it’s good dick though.”

“Facts. But. No.”

“Ugh. Killing me. Okay, summer is coming, spend the summer with me? Ya got classes?”

“I have a three week break. Maybe I could be convinced to stay at a pervy old man’s house.” You whisper, trailing your fingers down his hard body, and smirking up at his angry scowl.

“You’re the one saying ‘oh no more, ow’ and I’m old?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.” You both glare, then you’re just kissing each other again, and he’s holding you like you’re nothing, as you dangle in the damn air, clinging to him, breathless. “Stubborn fuckin brat.”

“You love it, don’t you?” You nip his lower lip, then he pulls back a bit to study you, eyes committing you to memory.

“I love you, even if you’re a bratty little bitch.”

“Bitch!”

“Yep.”

“Asshole.” He smirks at you, and you’re kissing again, fuck will you ever get enough of this?

“Keep kissing me and we’re fuckin again, doll.”

“I can’t! She needs rest.”

“Rest. She got two months of that.” He rolls his eyes at you, then you’re cleaning up in the bathroom, and it’s oddly easy to be with Toji alone. He’s fixing his messy hair, putting on deodorant, and you’re using his toothbrush, then washing your face.

“Shit, Toji I looked like a racoon this whole time!?”

“You’re a sexy raccoon.” You smack him now, his big hands are gripping your hips, as he stares at you in the mirror, kissing down the side of your head. “Look how good you look in my arms, ma. Too pretty f’me.”

“Okay, Insta baddie.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Thousands of likes on one fuzzy ass picture!”

“Aw, my doll is jealous. I don’t want any of them, I want you , every bit of you, too.” He’s squishing your breasts now, and you are hopelessly leaning your head back, moaning softly at how good it feels. “Perfect tits. Perfect body.” His hands slide down the nip of your waist, the jut of your hips, around to your tummy, as he touches you everywhere with those big hands.

“We’ll never get anywhere if you start again. Don’t you wanna see Megumi?” He sighs, his brows low as he bites your throat. “You’ll give me more hickeys!”

“Good, they need to know who this belongs to.”

“This!? Am I some object or something you have some claim to?”

“Mmhmm, my toy, my doll. Just f’me.” He’s biting again, and you throw down the brush then, it clatters to the floor, as he’s pressing that hard cock against your back, and his touches are making your sore little cunt ache more.

“T-toji, fucking stop. Mmnh.” Your eyes close as you enjoy his touch far too much. “You need to spend time with your son.”

“Spending time with my baby mama.”

“Toji!”

“Oh fine.” He rolls his eyes at you, before pressing on your stomach, humming to himself.

“Stop thinking about putting babies in me, old man.” You turn, patting his cheek, leaning up to plant a kiss on his chin. “Go see Megumi.”

“I’ll pick you up tonight.” Your hands slide down his strong arms, fingers caressing his muscles, feeling the sinewy lines under your fingertips.

“You even gonna ask me, old man?” He smirks down at you, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“Nah you want it. Don’t ya, pretty doll?” Your lashes lower, as he pulls you flush against his bare chest with his other hand, you feel his body heat radiating through you. “Ah-ah, look at me with those pretty eyes.”

“You’re awfully sweet. Usually such a jerk.” You do look up at him, as his lips part, then he sighs, caressing your cheek before he’s brushing back your hair.

“Fine I’ll ask nicely, since you’re such a brat. Will you stay another night? Before I have to leave.” Your heart starts to hurt now as you think of how he’s going to leave you, it sinks in your stomach, and it’s clearly reflected on your face, he frowns a bit now as you tense in his hold. “I’m not going to just dip the fuck off. I promise.”

“It’s hard to believe, that's all.” You feel little tears slipping down your cheeks, ones he swipes away with a serious set to his features. “I don’t blame you, Toji, it just really hurt.”

“I know doll, c’mere.” He pulls you against him, hugging you tightly, and you inhale that scent you’ve missed so much once more. “Making me soft. Embarrassing is what it is.”

“No, it’s just who you are deep down. Beneath all that aggressive bullshit. I love when you open up.”

“When I open up those thighs?”

“Toji Fushiguro!”

He’s just chuckling, and how his eyes crinkle in those corners, how that scar you now peck a kiss on stretches, fuck you’re in love, and terrified. “Sure you don’t wanna come, you’re gonna be a shit step mom to Megumi. He already had a shit dad.”

“You stop that. Go be a good dad for me , and I’ll call you daddy later, mmkay?” His eyes get lidded, and you feel him getting hard against your tummy. “Not right now old man, let’s go.”

*****

Three weeks later

“Fuck I miss ya, doll.” Toji murmurs on the phone, and you turn over to your side, sighing then, Toji calls you every night, and texts you all day. He has surprised you by sending things to your dorm, no flowers or anything. Vibrators.

Yeah.

Toji’s nasty.

Usually you would use those toys and he’d listen, or you’d send him videos, earning his hard cock with cum all over it in an image as a reward, but it was honestly torture. You toss and turn constantly, missing being filled by him, and now missing being held in his arms.

“Two more days, old man. Can you wait that long?” You ask softly, and he just exhales again, fuck you’re getting turned on by his breathing.

“I want you to stay longer than two weeks, that’s what I want.”

“Toji, I already promised dad a week. That would look awful. Plus, I miss him…” Toji sighs again. “That’s three sighs, old man.”

“I hate you not being with me. I gotta worry what college boy is staring at that ass, the one that belongs t’me.” You smile then, looking at your phone and requesting a video chat. “What’s that?”

“Facetime, old man. Accept it.” Soon Toji’s on the video, and your heart is thumping out of your chest, as you strip down your top, revealing your breasts that bounce gently as they’re released. He moans, setting you down now, and you watch as he’s grabbing for his cock under white sweats. “Miss them?”

“Askin’ dumb fuckin questions, doll. How are they even nicer? How?” You play with them gently, teasing him as you lean close to the phone camera. “I’ll come get ya early.”

“No, play with that cock for me, Daddy , I really wanna see.” You beg with a pout now, and you watch him eagerly, his hand stroking his huge cock up to the leaky tip and down to the base. Your pussy starts throbbing, already getting wet as you see him.

“Wanna suck on those pretty titties, wanna fuckin taste ya again.” You whine now, positioning yourself so that your thighs are spread, as you slide your panties down right in front of him. His moans reverberate through your body, until you can’t take it, it’s like torture not touching him. “Mnh, you want me to fill ya up again, don’t ya?”

“Ugh… yes, I do. This is the worst.” You lean back, watching him watch you, biting your lower lip while your own hand sliding down your stomach, over your bare mound, to your clit, rubbing it gently. You cry out at the touch.

“Spread them f’me. Lemme see all of that perfect cunt.” You do as he said, and watch him stroking that cock faster as he looks at you. “Oh yeah, doll, just like that, get yourself ready for me, you’re gonna get that cock so good when you're here.”

“Want you now.” You whisper, sliding a finger into your pussy, pulling out a stupid amount of wetness, his eyes are glued to your screen, watching as you play with yourself. “Look how wet I am for you, Daddy. Mmnh, so wet.” You’re rubbing your clit now with the slick you gathered, and your other hand is playing with a nipple, rolling it, pinching it.

“Fucking… this is stupid I’m leaving now.” You giggle a bit. “You can come a couple days early.”

“Toji… f-finals. Can’t.”

“Fuck me.”

“I will soon.” You giggle again, earning his glare through the phone screen now, as he’s stood up, looking down at the camera, and fuck if that angle doesn’t do things to you, like you’re looking up at him, ready to suck him. “Want him in my mouth.”

“Want you on my tongue.”

That makes you even more sensitive, imagining him tasting you right now, his tongue all over you. “Y’know… who needs… mmm, finals.”

“Grab that toy.” You get up and head to the dresser, grabbing the little vibrator you’ve been using from him. “Ah-ah, not that one. Want you to fuck yourself in front of me.”

You’re flushed then, as you hadn’t even taken that out of the box, you look back at the phone now. “I haven’t used one.”

“I know, it’s way smaller than my dick don’t worry.” He’s chuckling, and you roll your eyes, pulling out the little dildo he’d gotten out of the sleek black box finally, your hands trembling a bit as you get back over there, pushing it in bit by bit. Toji’s huffing, gripping his hair tightly, working himself, his abs flex as he moves.

“I’m nervous.” You admit then, pressing the silicon in your entrance, gasping when it fills you.

“That’s it, good girl. You’re being s’good f’me. Ease it in.” You’re shivering while you’re pressing it in even deeper, and your pussy is pulsing around the toy, it feels so different from Toji.

“I don’t like it like you. Want you inside me.”

“I know doll, I know… can you get it any deeper?” 

“No, I don’t… it’s not the same.” You pull it out then push back in, sliding it just a couple inches in and out, then it does start to feel good, but it’s not enough. “Not enough Toji.”

“Push in more, I know ya can. I bottom out in that pussy.” You’re all flushed as you glare at him, and he smirks, your lips ache to kiss that scar at the corner of his mouth. “Balls deep too.”

“Not the same. Mmm.” Your eyes shut as you begin to fuck yourself with it, as Toji’s noises from the back of his throat urge you, then you’re getting wetter. “Daddy… want you.”

“I want you s’fuckin bad it’s stupid. Wanna cum and fill that pussy, it’s only mine, isn’t it?”

“Only… y-yours…” Now his words urge you, the sounds he’s making, seeing him twisting a fist on that cock you want so badly. Your eyes go half lidded as you watch him watch you, your breath coming out in short gasps, your hips bucking. “T-toji, oh my… fuck I…”

“That’s it, doll, take it all like a good girl, I wanna see ya messy, that’s it.” He’s huffing as you’re crying out, as you’re imagining his cock thrusting instead, and soon your eyes shut, head falling back on your little twin mattress.

“Close, close. Need you, need you.” You keep whispering, over and over like a little mantra, now the toy is easily fucking in and out, and you feel yourself raising higher under his watch.

“Cum f’me doll, lemme see.” So you do, your orgasm hits you harder than your usual clit play, your eyes are rolling back, mouth open as you whine out your release. “Mmm, that’s it, cumming for daddy yeah?”

You slide the toy out, legs twitching, as you lean on elbows to watch him through the camera, as he starts to cum now, pumping white and messy from his reddened tip. You lay there, panting, your chest heaving as you watch his eyes shut, him covering his face for a moment, catching his breath. It’s all over his thick muscled thighs, up to his belly button.

“So messy for me.” You tease, earning a scowl, making you giggle at it. “What? I like it. Messy boy.”

“Boy, fuck no.” You watch him clean up now, his abs flexing with the movement, and you’re biting your bottom lip even harder, so hard you feel the skin break, feeling that ache deep in your core again, that need that’s never really satisfied even with the best of the toys.

“Messy man then.” You slide up your little panties, picking up the phone and laying it sideways, resting your head on your hand as you watch him do the same in his own bed. Your fingers trace the phone, wishing more than anything he was here physically.

“You’re too fuckin hot. Keep dreaming of that body, that face when you cum.” You flush at his words, looking down for a moment at those lips. He licks his lower one, darting over that scar.

“I dream of you too, Toji. But more than sex.”

“Didn’t say it was only sex f’me either.”

You’re both silent for a moment, ever since he left, those insane talks about babies and… living together? Marrying? Those weren’t a thing, it was typically purely you both being horny as fuck and playing. Or talking about life, about how you missed each other. But they linger, the things he spoke of.

Would Toji ever be serious like that?

“What’s on that mind, hmm? Should only be my dick.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “It takes over a lot for sure, but I guess there is more in my head than that.”

“Like what?”

“Mmm… it’s something we can talk about soon.”

He looks at you seriously, and now you feel emotion take hold of you, closing in your throat. “You sure doll?”

“Mmhmm. I’m sleepy. Gonna dream that I spank you for being a bad boy.” You snicker at his growl, covering your mouth with your hand as it mixes with a yawn now, your eyes getting heavy.

“That’ll never happen so keep dreaming.”

“Mmm, you love when I ride you though, don’t you?”

“I’m hard again brat. Gonna give it to you so good when I get you.”

“How are you gonna handle the three hour drive then?”

“Your mouth will be on my cock.”

“Oh yeah?” He just grins, that lewd grin, and you find yourself thrilled by the thought of it.

“Don’t worry, when you’re here I’ll eat you out right on my kitchen table. Finest fucking meal.”

“Mnh… Toji….” Now you’re wet, again, your pussy throbbing and practically begging for this damn jerk. Jerk you love. “No more until I see you, it’s literally the worst.”

He smirks at you now. “You would be a pretty little housewife, you know.”

Your eyes roll at that, then narrow. “Toji what do you even do?”

He’s full on grinning now. “Do you really wanna know?”

“Yes. No. Later.”

Soon you’re fading in and out of consciousness, exhaustion pulling at you. Classes and tests, along with all nighters studying, and fitting in time to talk with Toji as much as you can? Kind of exhausting, especially since he wants you to cum damn near every time you talk.

“Sleepy little thing.” He says it tenderly, you think with a muddled mind. “Good night doll.”

“Night Toji. Love you.” You mumble, blinking him into view once more, seeing his eyes blink a bit, as if he’s tired too.

“Love you, doll.”

Fuck his words make you smile, as you fall asleep. You’re so tired you didn’t hang up the phone.

*****

Toji’s headlights pull up, and Megumi, Nobara and Yuji are there, of course they were, and as Toji pulls up your heart stops. It’s been over three weeks, and you’ve missed him so bad you can’t stand it. You clutch your luggage closely to you, it may or may not have Hello Kitty on it.

“It’s the dilf.” Nobara says, sucking a lollipop then, and you cover your face in embarrassment, as does Megumi. Toji laughs, stepping out of the car now, a thin white shirt doing nothing to hide all his muscles, stretching across his chest and cutting off on his biceps.

The dark jeans he’s wearing hug him like a glove, and damn if your eyes weren’t shamelessly drinking in how good he looks. He takes your luggage and smirks at it, you glare. “Don’t say shit.”

He just pecks a kiss on your head, hugging you to him, then putting it in his car, then goes to Megumi, ruffling his spiky black hair. Megumi smacks at his hand. “Missed you kid.” Megumi rolls his dark green eyes, hands in his jeans pockets as he smirks at you.

“You came for her. Don’t even try that shit.”

“I also came to… say hi to you.” He snorts at that, and Toji’s eyes hit you then, draping down your body hungrily.

“Sure dad.”

“Hey dad!” Yuji waves with a grin, and Toji grimaces.

“Ugh you’re callin’ me that too?”

“Want them to call you daddy?” Nobara quips, earning her own glare from Toji Fushiguro.

“I see you can’t stop talkin’ about me, huh, doll?” He says then, and you’re flushed with the look he gives, you want to jump this man, fucking climb him, and also smack him. While fucking him!?

“Not at all.” You bat your lashes innocently, earning an eye roll from him.

“She just says you spit-”

“Yuji! I didn’t even tell you that!?” You smack a hand on his mouth, and now Toji’s grinning like the damn devil he is.

“Well I’m tired of getting left out.” He pouts now all cutely. “Plus, you know I was her first kiss, right?”

Toji cracks his knuckles at that, and Megumi is snickering behind his hand. “Oh shit, you’re gonna get your ass kicked.” Nobara says, giggling as she licks the lollipop again.

“I was just kidding!” He’s waving his arms like mad, as Toji approaches closer, until he dips out into a full run. You pop a hand on Toji’s chest now, your own laughter bubbling up in your chest.

“Don’t beat him up, old man.” You say, and he sighs.

“I’ll take it all out on you tonight then.” He whispers down at you, breath against your lips, drawing your gaze to them, and you can’t help but to step closer, licking your own lower lip in anticipation.

“Yuck! Yuck yuck yuck.” Megumi’s noises barely register, and you clear your throat a bit, stepping back. Toji just looks at him amusedly.

“What? It’s your future step mom.”

“Yuck! Go you two, blegh.” Megumi shivers, waving a hand as he and Nobara go off to find Yuji now, and you’re… alone with Toji. Outside your dorm building.

You’d fuck him right here.

“I missed you, old man.” You slide your hands up, wrapping them around his neck, your breasts pressed on his chest now, making him moan softly, grabbing your ass with two big hands, you squeak at it.

“Missed you, fuckin brat. Talking about my dick hmm?”

“Amongst other things.” You tap on his lips, and he’s got you in his car so quick you blink and you’re there, and he’s already got the car in gear. “How…”

“I can’t wait till we get home. Imma fuck you right here.” He huffs, then he’s pulling over just a bit away, into a dark little parking spot, abandoned this time of evening, when the sky is all pinks and purples.

“Wh-what?” You ask breathlessly, but he shakes his head, pulling your face to him as he lets the car purr, the rock music slowly playing in the background as his lips slam on yours, and you moan into them. “Oh… Toji, fuck. Feel s’good.” Your throaty whisper turns into a whine as he’s got his hands sliding down the side of your breasts now.

Your nipples perk right up, and he pulls back to look down at you, hunger clear in those green eyes, his lashes low over them, lips parted. “Fuck I missed tasting you, doll. Missed feeling you.”

“Me too. Me too.” Now you’re kissing him desperately, and he’s pulling you on his lap, you eagerly straddle him, his hands immediately sliding up to cup your ass under your skirt. He groaned against your mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips to explore your mouth with a hunger that matched your own.

The car was cramped, the steering wheel pressed against your back, the gear shift shoving in your thigh, Toji’s so goddamn huge everywhere you barely fit, your head is so close to his little roof you’re sure you’ll whack it, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else in the world mattered except the feel of his rough hands on your skin, the way his tongue danced with yours, the desperation in his grip.

You could feel his cock growing hard between your thighs, and you ground down against him, eliciting a deep groan from his chest. His hands slid up to your breasts, kneading them roughly, squishing them before his thumbs found your nipples. You gasped into the kiss, arching your back, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue even deeper into your mouth.

The world outside the car had faded away, you weren’t even sure where he had parked, and you really didn't care either. Not when you’re soaking wet between your thighs now, and all that existed was the two of you, tangled together in the front seat. You reached down and unbuckled his belt, sliding your hand into his pants to grasp his length, feeling him rock hard and hot in your palm.

“Freaky lil brat.” He huffs, but he’s panting heavily, and you see it, he’s as lost in this crazy fucking connection as you are, isn’t he. “Need to be inside you, now.”

“Then fuck me, Toji.” He’s frantic now, as lifts you just a bit off him, pushing the seat back as far as it would go. He slammed his mouth back down on yours as he’s yanking your panties to the side, sinking two fingers in, and you scream at how good it feels, soaking his hand. “Yes, yes there. Ngh!”

“So wet f’me, only me. Say it doll.” He presses those fingers, hitting your spot you can’t find for shit on your own, and you scream out, the car getting overheated as the two of you fill it with your desire. You lean forward, one hand bracing yourself by holding his shoulder, the other struggling to pump on him. “Say it.”

“Of course it’s only you, old man.” He glares now, yanking those fingers out, and you gasp. “N-no, back in, s-sorry!”

“Fuckin brat.”

Toji’s hand slid back up your skirt, his calloused fingers finding your panties soaked with need, sticking to you. He rips them off then, and you blink in shock. “I really liked those!”

“Shouldn’t even wear panties around me then.” He tosses them and you glare, breathless as his fingers are sliding back into your wet heat.

“You take them all!”

He grins, chuckling under you, but then he’s fucking you with those fingers so good you hear yourself squishing in the little car, and your eyes are rolling back, as your head tilts back, shoving your breasts in his face as you scream out. He’s shoving that top up with his free hand, sucking on your breasts, your nipples which are so sensitive you can’t stand it,

“F-fine. Keep them, freaky old man.” You grind down onto his hand as he works you closer to the edge, your body overheating as he’s watching you hungrily. You needed him inside you, filling you up, claiming you like only he could, and you’re already cumming from just one more pump of thick fingers.

“That’s it, doll, cum like a lil slut f’me.” His nasty words are just what you want, you’re falling apart over him, clenching his fingers like a vise as you can’t even see anymore, it’s all feeling too fucking euphoric. You’re floating on that high, Toji makes you cum better than a vibrator ever could. “S’wet too, slutty lil cunt.”

“Fuck me, please. Please.” You’re begging, and you don’t care that you’re begging either, you need him so goddamn bad you can’t stand it. His eyes never leave yours as he lines himself up with your entrance now, moaning and biting his lower lip with stark white teeth.

“Begging, so fuckin desperate huh doll? For an old man .”

“Shut up, please . Fuck me. Please… I… Ah!”  With one swift movement, Toji’s eight inches are buried deep inside you, and you both cry out at how good it feels, as you’re stretched beyond your means, as your cunt is squeezing him so tight.

“F-Fuck… doll, I…” He exhales, blinking a bit, his usually sure hands squeezing your hips so tight you can’t breathe. Your eyes lock, and his lids lower, his jaw relaxing and his cheeks going red as he lifts you up his length, then slams you back down. He buries his head against your chest, and you cling to his head, shivering as you struggle to take him.

“Toji… Toji …” He began to move now, his hips driving into you with a force that had you gripping the headrest above him to balance yourself, to cling. Each stroke brought you closer to the precipice, and you could feel the beginnings of your climax already building low in your belly.

You wrapped your legs around him, thigh uncomfortably shoving into the door on one side, the console on the other, as you’re pulling him in deeper, your breath hitching with each powerful thrust. Toji’s eyes were dark with lust as he watched you, his jaw clenched, drinking you in, hands everywhere.

The way his chest heaved with every breath, the way his fingers dug into your skin as he held you down, how gorgeous he looks makes you wetter and wetter, until you’re gushing all over him, down his length, down his thighs. He’s inhaling as he shoves up so deep you scream out, making you cum now, you’re cumming so hard it takes over everything you are.

“Toji! Ngh!”

“ Good girl .”

“Fuck!” He’s kissing you again, you cling to him eagerly, sliding your hips up and down now, bouncing on his cock, stretching you out, and it’s so intense you’re just seeing stars as you’re soaking him.

“That’s it, doll. Let me feel you.” His words are quieter than usual, his tone husky as he’s feeling you pulsing around his length. You slam your lips back on him again, as he drinks you cries, a hand sliding up your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You leaned back, feeling his cock slip out of you slightly, and you watched his face tighten. You reached down and guided him back inside, sighing with relief as he filled you completely once more. Your hips began to move again, matching his rhythm, your hands sliding up his back to tug at his shirt, lifting it up to reveal more of where you two are joined.

“Look at you sucking me in s’good, ma.” He shoves up then, leaning back, hands on your thighs as he rolls his hips, that tip pressing on your cervix. Your back arches, eyes fluttering shut as you move with him.

The world outside the car was forgotten, the only thing that mattered was the connection between the two of you, silent aside from his moans and yours intermingling in the car now. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small space, as you took his length more and more, bouncing on his cock up and down.

Toji’s whispering your name, it sounds so good on his lips as you move, watching him, that steering wheel pressing into your back, not that you care, it just makes the sensation of his throbbing cock in you even better. You see him, sweat on his brow, that jaw clenched, then he stills you, gripping you bruisingly now, fucking into you so hard you’re screaming out, one of your hands smacking the window next to you.

“Want me to fill ya, doll? My doll. My perfect… My… fuck…” He’s losing his own train of thought, as he’s shoving you down on him, harder and harder now, and you whimper, resting your head on his now, foreheads touching, slick with both of your sweat, your hands clinging to his bare arms desperately.

“Cum in me, please. Please, Daddy .” You whisper, then he falls apart under you, pushing one more time and then his head falls back, his grip brutal. You kiss down his neck, biting when you feel him cum so deep, whispering your name.

“Cum with me. Doll. Milk me.” He’s pressing up so deep you can barely handle it, feel him in your damn throat like you can’t breathe. You’re falling apart right with him, as he’s pulsing inside you, cum shooting so much it’s falling out right around him as you cum with him. “F-Fuck… doll… love… you.”

“Love… you…” You whisper back, and you all kiss frantically, holding hands now, over your hips, entwined, his hot cum filling you so good you’re oversensitive, as your clit is grinding against his pelvis, and the friction along with cum in your cervix has you a mess. “Toji…”

“Mine. You’re mine. Aren’t ya doll?” He cups your face now, looking up desperately, as he shivers just for a moment, his long lashes covering those eyes, and you nod eagerly, grinding on his sensitive tip, making you both whine.

“I’m yours. Toji Fushiguro. All yours.” He’s kissing you desperately, as his cock twitches inside of you, little spurts of cum still pouring into you somehow. He’s got his hands in your loose hair, pulling it hard, lips brutal. He sucks all your oxygen, as the car is purring beneath you both, as your heart is pounding out of your chest.

It’s silent, the smacking kisses the noise now, as your ass at some point has knocked off Toji’s music, and he’s just kissing you over and over. When you pull away to catch your breath, his eyes are so serious when they look at you, and you feel it, all the ways he missed you too.

“Fuck.” Is all he says, exhaling and tracing your collarbone with his thumb, dipping in the hollow there, eyes taking every bit of you in. “How am I gonna last without this again?” His voice is hoarse as he says those words, and emotions start hitting, mixed with your inability to think straight, you feel it even more.

“I know, I know.” You snuggle with him then, and he holds you close, kissing down the side of your neck, hands touching you everywhere he can.

“All this trip Imma be convincing you to just stay home and have my kid.” You giggle, shaking your head. “Ya think I’m joking, huh brat?”

“I know you are. Stop all that.”

“Stop wanting to put a kid in ya? Nah, doll, not happening.” You ease off him then, flushing when you see the mess you’ve made, his cock looks so lewd it’s obscene, dripping with his own cum and your arousal. “Well?”

“Well what?” You ask curiously, scooching over to the seat. And he’s raising a dark brow. “What!”

“Clean me up, it’s a long trip.” You blink a bit, as he scoots his seat up and starts to drive.

“Huh?” He grabs you by your hair, still focusing seamlessly on the road, dragging your head over to his lap now.

“Clean. Me. Up.”

Oh.

[elizakai]

guys i need to consume dustyrottencrop (i hate that name) content consider this an invitation to self promote or link/suggest any horror dust farm content, art, fics, ideas, headcanons whatever in the ask box or comments or reblogs or anywhere😭

i will swallow it whole

there’s not enough of them i’m having ship withdrawls

[queen-of-deans-booty]

On The Run

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: angst, fearing for your life

Summary: You’re on the run from someone very dangerous. You’re always looking over your shoulder, fearful that he is going to be right there and drag you back into Hell. You have a son to protect and you’ll do anything to make sure he is safe, even if it means sacrificing yourself.

Square Filled: silence (2021) for @spndarkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been ten minutes since you got the call, and you’re doing your best to pack whatever you and your son might need. He’s still sleeping since it’s three in the morning, but you’re running around your room throwing things in your suitcase--only the things you absolutely need. Everything else can be replaced later. Once you’re done with your suitcase, you walk into your son’s room to pack his suitcase.

Your son is a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t wake as you’re packing his suitcase, but he does wake when you scoop him into your arms.

“What’s going on, Mommy?” he asks sleepily.

“We’re going to live with Aunt Kathy for a while.”

“Why?”

“We’re going on a trip. Just you and me. We need to go now.”

“I’m tired,” he whines.

“Let me just get you into the car and you can sleep, baby.”

You keep your son propped up on your hip while grabbing both suitcases. You rush out to the car and place your son in his car seat before shoving the suitcases in the back. Tyler immediately falls asleep, and you rush back into the house for a last-minute grab. Inside the closet is a safe that contains the most important things you’ll ever own, and you punch in the code and rip the door open. You grab important documents and your gun with special bullets. There is only one thing left in there, and the shiny diamond shines brightly. It pains you to think about what this ring means but you can’t leave this behind.

There is a sliver of hope that everything is going to be fine which is why you can’t leave it behind. You take the ring, head back out to the car, and get in. You pull away from the house you once loved and start the five-hour drive to your sister’s house. When you get to the freeway, your phone rings to let you know you have a text message.

Unknown: Lay low for a few days. I’ll come get you and bring you somewhere where he can’t find you.

You let out a shaky breath and look at your son through the rearview mirror. Tyler is your entire world. You can’t let anything happen to him. You moving to your sister’s house and eventually a new safe location is what’s best for him even if he doesn’t see it.

It’s early when you get to your sister’s house, but you called her right after dawn to let her know you were coming. Tyler and your sister’s kids get along great, so he is happy to play with his cousins while you and your sister sit outside to discuss what’s going on.

“You know I’m happy to have you, but what’s going on? What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

“He’s back, and he’s coming for us.”

“You came here?” Kathy sighs. “I love you and Tyler, and I’ll always want to help, but you’re putting my kids at risk.”

“I know but it’s only for a few days. Sam is gonna come get us and bring us somewhere else when he can.”

Kathy pauses and thinks about your words.

“Do you think he’ll find you here?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. He never knew where you lived before, so I don’t think so.”

“Fine, you can stay for a few days. I still have the salt and iron plus that demon knife you made me.”

“I wish that would help. All of that would only piss him off.”

“What will kill him?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. Kathy isn’t happy about any of this, and you feel terrible for bringing her in the middle of your shit. “I didn’t know where else to go, Kathy. My son is in danger.”

“I know,” she whispers. “We’ll figure it out.”

The first two days go by without any issues. Tyler loves spending time with his cousins and staying up late with them while you’re crying yourself to sleep every night. Another day goes by without a single word from Sam, and you’re starting to get concerned. If he says he’ll get you in a few days, best believe he’ll keep true to his word. What if something happened to him?

What if he got to him?

On the fourth day, you’re home alone with Tyler while your sister is out with her kids for a doctor’s appointment. Tyler is watching cartoons and coloring while you’re folding laundry in the living room. It’s not extremely dark outside but it is dark enough to have light on inside the house. Normally, you’d open the curtains and allow the sunlight to light up the rooms. However, the sun is inching closer to the horizon so the curtains are closed and the lights are on.

Tyler giggles at something SpongeBob does when the TV turns off. In fact, all of the lights turn off. The smile on your face from hearing your son laugh is now wiped off as dread creeps up your spine. Every single hair on the back of your neck stands up because you know he found you.

He’s here.

“Mommy?”

“Tyler, come on.” You grab Tyler’s hand and pull him up the stairs. The house isn’t completely dark but it’s not super light either. You tug Tyler to Kathy’s bedroom and pull him into her closet before shutting the door. “I need you to be extra quiet, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?”

“Yes.”

The entire house falls into a deadly silence. The fear of the unknown makes you want to cry but you cannot give your position away. It’s foolish to think that he won’t be able to find you but you’re holding onto that sliver of hope. You pull Tyler close to you and run your hands through his hair to try and calm yourself down.

“Tyler,” his voice drawls from the staircase. You close your eyes and try your best not to let the tears fall. “Tyler, you in here?”

“You’re doing so good, baby. Keep being quiet,” you whisper into his ear.

His heavy footsteps climb up the stairs slowly. You know he’s stomping just so you can hear where he is. He stops at the top of the stairs, walks toward Kathy’s bedroom, and opens the door. It creaks slightly and you shake in fear.

“Tyler, I have candy. It’s your favorite. Come on, buddy, don’t you want Kit-Kats?”

Your son gasps happily at the thought of munching on the sweet treat.

“No, don’t do it,” you whisper. “Don’t move.”

“Tyler, come on out. I have five big chocolate bars for you. Don’t you want a treat?” Tyler squirms out of your arms and runs out of the closet toward his father. The tears fall down knowing you’ve been found, and you take out your phone with shaky hands. “Hey, buddy. Good boys get candy. Now, where’s Mommy?”

“In the closet!”

Shit. You struggle to unlock your phone and pull up the phone app when you finally get it unlocked. You’re in the middle of dialing Sam’s number when the closet door opens. You look up at the man you once loved with all your heart.

“I found you, baby.” Dean kneels down, plucks your phone out of your hand, and slides it into his pocket. “Sam isn’t coming. He sent me instead.”

He reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you fight the urge to sob. His eyes flash from beautiful forest green to dark-as-the-night black. Dean used to be the love of your life until he died and became the thing from your worst nightmare. He took care of you and Tyler until his dying breath, and now he’s back with a vengeance.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me? Good girls get candy.”

“Fuck off,” you spit. “Just leave us alone.”

Dean’s look hardens and he wraps his hand around your throat. He doesn't squeeze but he makes sure you understand the threat.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband. You wouldn’t want Tyler to see Mommy and Daddy fighting, would you?”

You’re trapped. You don’t know how you’ll be able to escape. You did it before when he was in that dead state. Sam got you and Tyler the hell out of dodge as soon as Dean died. The tears fall as you shake your head, and Dean smirks, returning his eyes back to their green color.

“Good girl. Come on out. We have a lot to discuss.”

x

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[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 3

Masterlist

Ch. 1, Ch. 2

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: flirting, anxiety, insecurity, drunk background characters, canon-typical violence, communication issues, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 4.4K

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In theory, it's been a good day.

At the very least, it’s a lot less terrifying than Logan had built it up in his mind to be. Wade never really let him in on what his plans were, so he’s just along for the ride as they travel across the sprawl of the city. Interestingly, he notices that Wade keeps their hands linked as they wait for the next bus – not an unpleasant experience by any means, but something they’ve never really done before. Though each of them often remains close enough to crawl inside the other when within the privacy of the apartment, PDA isn’t something they’ve ever really done.

For Logan, general proximity has always been enough. Knowing where Wade is, having his heartbeat and scent to go off of. An occasional brush of fingers isn’t unusual, a playful hip knock. Being more visible as a couple out in the public eye is new, and Logan wonders if it has anything to do with Wade’s insistence on going out looking…well. The way that he currently does.

His gut is telling him yes.

But Wade’s humming contentedly to himself as they’re squished into a seat, shoulder to shoulder. His mind can’t help repeating back to him how much going out like this seems to mean to Wade, and Wade has somehow come to mean a hell of a lot to him. So he keeps his mouth shut and explores the hand-in-hand situation, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the skin of Wade’s palm. Turns out, the man’s got a whole itinerary for the day. Which makes sense, considering it’s Wade. Logan can’t imagine him taking them out for lunch and then going right back to the apartment after all the fuss he’s already kicked up.

“So,” Wade starts, in a tone that Logan’s grown fond of. “I was thinking we’d start with lunch – I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite from this morning –”

Logan promptly elbows him in the ribs.

“Wade –”

There’s a pint sized kid in the aisle across, staring at them with curious blue eyes. Wade turns to see what he’s looking at, then shrugs.

“Okay, slow down, Mr. Pervert. You think I’m handing out details of my personal life for free? And to minors, no less? If they want that sort of information they can lie about their age, like the rest of us did when the internet was the wild west of all things freaky.”

He looks over at something Logan can’t see. “And like some of them still are. Don’t think I don’t fucking see you.”

“See what?”

“Nothing, kitty cat. Anyway,” Wade continues, excited.

Logan listens patiently as he’s given every last detail of what they’re going to do and where they’re going to go. Does it sound like a lot of interaction with the general populace he wouldn’t normally seek out? Yeah. But does it also seem like Wade put a ton of effort into making sure it’d be a combination of things they’d both enjoy? Also yes.

“Sounds nice,” Logan tells him when he’s through explaining, and Wade gives him a tentative smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He puts an arm around Wade’s shoulders, and it doesn’t take heightened senses to catch the obvious delight emanating from him at the new contact.

So they meander through the massive sprawl of the city, venturing to places Logan’s never had a reason to go. If he’s being honest with himself, his circles are pitifully small. He likes to stay within certain neighborhoods if he can help it, places he already knows, close to home. The only time he really strayed from that trend was when he was trying to figure out what home was. Once he has a routine, he likes to keep to it.

Wade tends to veer toward the opposite. He likes a little spontaneity – hell, impulse may as well be his middle name. Logan’s not surprised when they go off path from one part of the day to something unexpected that catches Wade’s attention. He’s known him long enough to just accept that that’ll happen sometimes, doesn’t mind it.

It’s actually nice to be somewhere he’s not used to. Logan didn’t realize that he’d been growing a little restless himself until given the opportunity to see something outside of the daily to and fro, as comforting as that had become. The cheerful spring weather holds as Wade takes him to walk through some of the biggest trees Logan’s ever seen in his life, and later still as they weave their way through a public market.

They’ve been walking all day by the time Wade points them in the direction of their final destination, but Logan doesn’t feel (that) overwhelmed or at all bored. It’s…it’s nice. Seeing more of the city was probably good for him.

Dusk brushes across the sky, tentative. They walk together down the sidewalk, sometimes dodging to the side for a passing crowd. There’s more going on here in terms of entertainment than where they’re living – probably why he’s never been out this way.

Logan can’t help but take an occasional glance at Wade. The makeup’s become smudged throughout the day, and it’s a relief to see the actual Wade beginning to poke through a bit.

“I’m still waiting for it,” Wade says, looking at Logan wryly.

That makes him nervous. “Waiting for what?”

“Waiting for you to say, ‘huh, jeez, Wade, guess living here doesn’t suck the absolute balls that I always say it does.’”

He rolls his eyes. “Those the exact words you think would come out of my mouth?”

Wade nods, his expression solemn. “Verbatim. You’ve picked up some very unbecoming slang from hanging around Al so much, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“More like from hanging around you.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about!” Wade brings them to a stop. “The Logan that I dragged home would have just growled all sexy for the camera and stabbed me somewhere. He didn't banter like this.”

“Sooo…you’re saying you’re a bad influence.” He smirks.

They’re right outside the bar Wade wanted to poke his head into – some little hole in the wall joint Ellie, Laura, and Yukio won’t stop talking up called The Spork. Even from outside, Logan can hear and feel the pulse of the music. He can already tell that it’s going to be zero percent like the bars he’s frequented in the past. That’s probably for the best.

“Well, you did take off your chastity ring for me, didn’t you, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower on sweetheart, eyes roaming Logan’s chest through the strain of his shirt.

Fuck, he’s seriously starting to regret not taking Wade up on his offer this morning. They could have gone another round in under thirty minutes, right? (Wrong.) Logan can feel his cock stirring with interest, and though the street is growing dark now, it’s not something he wants to advertise.

“We goin’ in or not?” he mutters instead, fully aware that he’s lost the ability to quip back.

Sure, yeah, maybe he’s gotten better at keeping up, as Wade had said. But there’s no topping him when it comes to having a smart fucking mouth. He’s half-convinced Wade could just talk him to orgasm – and he wonders if it’s something they’ll ever try.

Wade chuckles a little at him.

“Don’t have to,” he says. “I know those dad shoes have seen more traction in the past eight hours than they’ve probably gotten in the last six months, so if you want to head home, we’ll head home.”

Again with this shit! Between him and Laura he’s never going to get away with any choice of footwear without getting roasted like he’s standing on the fucking sun.

“They’re literally just –”

“White New Balance, baby, I know.” Wade’s still grinning a little. “After you.”

He holds the door, and it only takes seconds for the two of them to become engulfed in sound. The bar is crowded with people he’d guess are probably around Laura’s age, a flurry of bright hair colors and crop tops, makeup on every kind of face. Queer couples whisper and laugh with each other, nursing drinks. Groups of friends pose for pictures. Lights dance from the ceiling, and the speakers are blasting a voice he’s become all too familiar with as Laura’s started turning the album on every time she’s in his car.

You know what they say – never waste a Friday night on a first date.

But there I was, in my heels with my hair straight, Logan finishes in his head, led by Wade to the bar by their connected hands.

“Be right back,” Wade says near his ear, careful not to yell. “You getting anything?”

Logan shakes his head. “Not if we’re just in and out.”

“Gotcha.”

He watches as Wade melts away into the crowd, side-stepping and inching through far more gracefully than Logan could until he slips into the restroom.

It’s easy to see why The Girls – as Ellie, Yukio, and Laura have come to be known in his mind – like it here. Inclusivity comes easier in cities, he knows that. But it’s still not perfect. Even harder when you have supernatural abilities you never asked for on top of it all.

Logan wonders if there are any more mutants in the crowd tonight.

Wade is taking a very long time. Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, Logan glances back to where he’d last seen him. Is he being too paranoid? Should he just wait and give it another minute? Fuck. He wished his brain wouldn’t turn everything into a disaster. It occurs to him that the bar is getting louder and louder and he can smell so much sweat and cigarette smoke and weed in here.

No, actually, fuck it, he’s going. There’s no harm in just walking in and seeing if he’s alright.

Anxiety spiral! Jess says cheerfully in the back of his head. He ignores her.

With one hand placed on the bathroom door, he’s just in time to almost fully collide with the man he’s looking for.

“Shit,” they say at the same time, getting out of one another’s way.

“No, it’s fine,” Logan says first, squinting as a flash of light from the overhead rig shines in his face. “You okay, bub?”

Sometimes eating genuinely does make Wade sick. Logan doesn’t know if it’s the cancer or a side effect of how his regenerative ability works for him, but there are days when food just doesn’t do it for him. Usually they can both tell when that’s going to happen, though. They’ll hole up in the apartment, turn on some good movies, and just be together while Logan rubs Wade’s back all day. He’s happy to do it for him; he’s prepared to take him straight home and do it now.

But Wade doesn’t smell sick.

When Logan blinks the last of the light away, he’s left looking at Wade, who is definitely not looking at him. In fact, he’s staring at his shoes, looking like he wants to crawl through the floor.

His face is clean, all the carefully applied makeup scrubbed away.

Logan opens his mouth to say something like okay, I’m glad you took that off, I like your actual face, but Wade beats him to the punch.

“Sorry,” Wade says softly. “It was getting all smudged, and…sorry.”

Tears gather hot and burning in the back of Logan’s throat. Out of nowhere, he’s furious, fucking outraged that Wade could feel this way about himself when it’s so clearly untrue. It’s the kind of emotion that he’s not sure he can shove down or redirect this time. Part of him knows that if Wade sees the look on his face, he’s going to read it the wrong way. And he needs to get out of this bar, right now.

He's like a string pulled too tight. Even the pressure of a breath could make him snap.

“Can we please leave.”

That’s all he can make himself say, the words coming out all taut and emotionless. It makes him feel like shit, but that’s all he can manage to get out.

Wade nods, and Logan offers his hand once more. A meager consolation prize compared to what he actually wants to tell him. Logan hates how lacking his brain-to-mouth output is. Whatever he ends up saying always sounds so inarticulate. Right now he’s staring at Wade’s profile in the gentle pulsing of the colored lights, thinking a million things. All of them thrum within him harder than his own heartbeat.

I love you.

You’re beautiful.

I hate that you thought you had to change for me.

I would kill for you.

I would live for you.

Ten feet until they’re outside – he can do that. Then he can fix this.

Logan’s eyes are fixed on the door, on the cool air drafting in as it opens and closes, when he’s shoved hard from the right.

“My bad,” says a voice at once. “Shit, my bad man, my bad.”

Logan grits his teeth so tight he feels one of them crack. He swallows the loose piece.

“Don’t worry about it.” Shut the fuck up and let me leave.

The man who bumped into him is so obviously wasted that he might as well be wearing a flashing neon sign. He sways a little on his feet, supported only by the sweet-looking woman he keeps bumping back into, as if she's the only thing keeping him upright. Brawny and dressed like he's just walked straight from his fraternity house, he squints at Logan and Wade like he's seeing double. Shit, maybe triple, at this point.

“Jake, maybe you need to sit down,” the woman says to him softly.

Her face is flushed, more from embarrassment than alcohol. She's staring up at the guy, one small hand on his arm, but Jake is looking at the two of them like he's never seen gays over thirty before. Hell, like he’s never seen a queer in general, which is astounding, considering the bar he’s currently standing in.

Logan can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It’s a rare occasion when someone who’s looked at him like that didn’t end up pissing him off, and he’s already one step away from wanting a good excuse to tear into someone. Anyone.

“C'mon, just sit down with us, I'll get you some water.”

The guy isn't interested. He's too busy looking at Wade now, and Logan can see the thought forming on his face before he dares to speak it.

“Jesus, man, you're kinda ugly, did you know that?”

To Wade's credit, he says fucking excuse me? at the same time Logan's fingers close around the asshole’s throat.

For someone who'd been wobbling around only seconds before, Jake tries to pry them off with surprising accuracy. It only makes him squeeze tighter, watching with brutal satisfaction as his face turns darker shades of red.

That’s better. This, he can understand. For Logan, actions are almost always easier than words, especially when tinted with violence. Especially if he’s needed it for weeks now.

In his periphery, he can tell that several things are going on. The college girl is touching his elbow, asking him to stop, something like I’m so sorry please let him go I know he’s had way too much. Wade is standing back a ways, hands in his pockets, grinning more broadly than Logan’s seen all day. A small crowd is starting to gather.

Their faces are only inches apart. He knows he should walk away, just take Wade and go home.

Somewhere behind him, Wade is having the time of his life calling this frat boy a piece of shit. Logan can’t even keep up with half of what’s coming out of his mouth, but he hears something about getting his haircut off of a middle schooler’s Tiktok FYP but having his dad’s mental health issues, and those both seem like pretty deep cuts. He doesn’t fail to mention, of course, that Logan’s about to turn him into the wet food that they make for cats.

“C’mon, fuckface,” Jake wheezes, trying and failing once more to loosen his grip. “You mad your boyfriend ain’t pretty or–”

That’s all it takes. Logan curls his free hand into a fist and punches the other man so hard his nose breaks with a tidy snap. Blood pours out of him like a busted faucet as he punches him twice, three times, and in seconds he’s howling and pleading for him to stop – he didn’t mean it, he promises he didn’t mean it.

If it were up to Logan, he’d stay there and beat him until the fucking punk was barely capable of stringing a sentence together, then make him say thank you for letting him live. As the situation stands, however, several people are definitely calling the police – and that’s not something Logan has the patience for.

“Hey, Testosterone Tommy, we gotta go,” Wade calls, reading his mind.

Without another word, Logan turns his back to the mess he’s made, and they make short work of disappearing into the street.

By the time they’ve ducked through enough alleys and carved a confusing enough path that they don’t think they’re in danger of being pursued, Wade lets out a breath.

“Thanks for uh, defending my honor back there, peanut.”

Logan shrugs, still tense from the weight of the conversation he knows they need to have.

“It was nothin’. He needed to shut the fuck up. I was happy to provide the service.” He looks over at Wade in the soft light of a street lamp, who chuckles a little at that. “And I knew you woulda hit him yourself if I didn’t get there first,” he adds.

Wade's answering silence makes him wonder if he would have just taken the insult and kept walking, or turned it into a joke even if it made him feel like shit.

When they arrive back at the apartment, Laura opens the door, a wriggling Puppins in her arms, and scrunches her nose at the sight of Logan.

“Thought it was a date, the hell?” she says. “You’ve got blood on you.”

“Don’t all your dates end in bloodshed?” Wade says, shrugging. He turns to let the dog inspect his face with her mouth, which she does with excruciating enthusiasm. “Hi Puppins! Hi baby!! Did you miss us? You did! Anyway, we can’t go to your bar anymore.”

Laura doesn’t look that surprised. “What did you do?”

“Logan tried to kill a guy ‘cause he called me ugly.”

“I did not try to kill him,” Logan growls, passing Laura her phone as she goes to collect her things. “I just shook him up a little.”

“In a very heroic, brash, and manly way,” Wade sings, putting an arm around his waist. “The other guy really did gush, Laura, you would’ve loved it.”

She only shakes her head and sighs. “If you say so. I gotta get home, I work at six tomorrow.”

“Thanks for dogsitting! And catsitting, too, I guess.”

“Haha, I didn’t even see him.”

Logan walks her to the door while Wade wanders deeper into the bedroom. Every time Wade tells him stories about the Other Logan, and this Laura, he tries to imagine if he can feel that connection. It’s not the same as what he feels for her now – not as massive and deep as that love had to have been – but he still cares for her. He wants to see her do well. Growing up the way she had wasn’t easy, he knows that much. And she’s a good kid. Logan knows she’s trying to do her best – even if she sometimes gets into scraps of her own.

“Thanks, kid,” Logan says as they hover in the doorway. “Have a good shift, yeah? Try to behave yourself.” From the stories he’s heard from her working as a lead at a grocery store, people aren’t always the kindest.

“Could say the same to you,” she fires back, smiling before she turns down the hallway.

He watches until she’s gone before shutting their door and locking it. When he turns, Bonnet is staring at him from the little nook under the far left kitchen cabinet, his favorite place to hide.

“Hey, buddy,” Logan calls softly, bending down. Bonnet comes to him at once, tail lifted. “What'd you do today, huh?”

The massive tabby answers him with a quiet mrow, butting his head against Logan's hand. They stay like that for a moment, each of them comforted by the other.

When Logan makes his way to the bedroom, he finds Wade already in pajamas, scrolling on his phone. Wade glances up at him with a soft smile, watching him unbutton his shirt and toss it into the hamper.

“So…overall, was it an okay day?” he asks as Logan shuffles into bed beside him in only his boxers, landing with a heavy sigh. “Worth repeating, sans the whole dramatic knockout bit towards the end?”

His hand is already carding through Logan’s hair. Wade shuffles closer to let Logan sling a leg over his hip the way he wants to, recharging after a long day of being on the go.

“‘Course,” Logan mutters. The gentle way Wade’s touching him makes his whole body go limp and relaxed almost at once. He didn’t realize how much the day had weighed on him until he felt that weight lifting. “‘Course I’d go out with you again. Didn’t really know it was that important or we coulda – coulda gone a lot sooner.”

He feels Wade shrug. “Well, it took me a minute to learn how to get all the stuff right, otherwise I might have –”

Logan sits straight up in a way that makes the bed jolt. He looks Wade right in the eye, taking in the surprise, taking in every inch of his face, aching that Wade doesn’t think he’s good enough to go out without slathering shit on.

“Wade. For once in your life, shut the fuck up and let me say something. Please.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re kind of leaving me no choice, but okay.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Logan pauses to think. Everything he’s itching to say will come out angry, or make him want to cry. He doesn’t want either of those options to happen – he wishes he could just fucking say hard things without it being like this. Like his heart’s going to explode out of his chest.

“Fuck,” he says, dragging his hands across his face. “Fuck, Wade.”

“What?” He feels a hand on the side of his neck, feels Wade’s heartbeat pick up. Nervous. “Peanut, what’s the matter?”

“I didn’t want – I didn’t ask you – it wasn’t – you’re not – fuck.”

He can’t breathe. Wade notices.

“Just take a minute. I’m not going anywhere.”

Feeling very small and stupid and embarrassed the entire time, Logan closes his eyes and does as Wade asks. Forcing himself to breathe in and out until his chest doesn’t feel like it’s caved in on itself. Hating that this is so fucking hard. Other people don’t have to do this. Why is he like this?

Finally, he finds his voice again.

“Wish you didn’t go out looking like that,” he admits at last. “You didn’t need to do that for me. I didn’t want it, Wade. Wanted you.”

Logan peers up at Wade, who has a small, bitter sort of smile on his face. It’s probably one of the farthest things he’s seen from his genuine grin in some time.

“As the Irish forest man himself would say, you’re too sweet for me,” he says. “But you’re used to me, bud. You don’t get it.”

Exasperation roars like fire in Logan’s mind. “What the hell don’t I get? Wade. I’ve been lookin’ at you for a year now. I like it. Haven’t I made that clear enough?”

There are fucking tears in Wade’s eyes, though he blinks them back fast, and Logan’s own throat burns in instant empathy.

“I said, you don’t get it,” he says again. “You didn’t know me before. You didn’t see what I looked like then. And if you had, you sure as fuck wouldn’t be sticking around now.”

They’re both bolt upright in the bed now, tense, facing each other. Logan can’t tell whether he’s more angry or hurt that Wade would still cling so tightly to thinking about himself like this, but whatever held him back from speaking before is long gone now. It’s time to be mad.

“News flash, jackass,” he barks. “I did see you. And yeah, maybe you were cute, but you weren’t all that. So pull yourself out of this fuckin’ –” he throws his hands up “-- hole of self pity. I love you the way you are right now, not some fake version you feel like you have to slap on.”

Wade stares at him.

He can only hold the tough act for a half second before he wonders if he’s gone too far. Because getting Wade Wilson speechless? That is a rarity, and a cause for concern.

“Sorry,” Logan says lamely, after another long beat. “If that was too much, then sorry, I just don’t want you to think you’re not good enough to –”

“You mean it?” Wade says, his voice small. “The – the love thing.”

Oh. Oh shit. He’d fully said that.

“Yeah,” Logan answers, laughing a little. “Yeah, I do.”

And fuck, he does. There’s no use pretending it’s not true anymore. He loves the stupid little songs he sings in the morning and the way he hums when he’s sleepy and how much he loves the dog. He loves how much he cares about the people in his life. He loves how fucking smart he is and how he can crack a joke with absolutely no effort. He loves his weird taste in music and how he looks in his clothes.

He loves.

He loves.

He loves.

“I really do,” Logan tells him, cupping Wade’s cheek, pulling him in to kiss him. The way Wade kisses him back is so soft, and he’s laughing too, a breathless little sound against Logan’s mouth. He climbs into his lap and wraps his arms tight around him, and they stay like that for a long time, rocking back and forth, close, warm.

“Sorry it took so long,” Logan tells him after a while. The fact that Wade had said it first, and so much earlier, still fills him with guilt.

“S’okay,” Wade answers. “It was worth it.” He places more kisses to Logan’s forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks. “So…can I fuck you to celebrate this little revelation? Like, a lot?”

“Yeah, please.”

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans 2nd Birthday Campaign: Story

Epilogue [His POV]

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

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It was the first time I found myself unable to look at someone because their existence was so dazzling.

Kate: Nn, Liamm

(Cute…) 

I reached between my lover’s legs as she laid below me with tears in her eyes, enduring the pleasure. 

Liam: Like it here?

Kate let out a high-pitched cry of pleasure when I sank my fingers into her wet spot. 

Kate: Ahh, that spot— 

(Cute, cute, so cute.)

As I pumped my fingers in and out of her, she came so hard that she was in a daze.

Seeing her melting from the pleasure made me want to give her even more. 

(Seriously, how can you possibly be this cute and loveable?) 

Kate looked like a cat begging for food when she rubbed her cheek against my hand that was positioned next to her face. 

Liam: ! 

Kate: Liam… already…

It was awfully lascivious.

Liam: Yeah, I’m already at my limit too. 

I was only pretending to be composed because I wanted her to be impressed, even just a little bit.

(But that pretence falls off right away.) 

When in front of Kate, any attempts to act cool were meaningless.

As I reached for my belt, Kate spread her arms wide. 

Liam: Sorry, I don’t think you’ll be getting any sleep until past noon.

Laying on the white sheets scattered with rose petals, she gave me a gentle smile.

Kate: I don’t mind as long as we’ll be sleeping together.

(You’re truly so kind and doting towards me.) 

In place of a reply, I hugged her tight and gave her a breathtakingly deep kiss.

Then I entered her, surrendering myself to the euphoria. 

…

Tom: Thanks, Liam. You’re a great help.

I was standing on stage after practice to help Tom install the new lights. 

Liam: Nah, I was also curious to see how the new lights look. 

Liam: But they’re rather hot, so I think we could consider thinner costumes. 

Stage lights shine brightly on the actors, but they also give off heat, making us feel hot being under them. 

Tom: I see… I’ll discuss that with the costume team tomorrow.

Tom: This is the kind of lighting that best makes our lead actor shine like a star. It was worth every penny of that high price.

Seeing Tom pretend to cry and worry about his wallet made me recall my birthday a few days ago.

Liam: Like a star…

At that moment, I couldn't contain my smile when I thought of Kate’s dazzling smiling face. 

Tom: … You took a day off on your birthday this year. How did you spend it? 

I looked up to see Tom wearing a soft smile as though he knew I had a great birthday. 

Liam: … I had a wonderful time. My lover celebrated with me, and my friends threw a party too.

On the night of my birthday, Kate took my hand and led me to the dining room where everyone from Crown had gathered.

(Victor whipped up a luxurious dinner spread, and Harry and Will prepared presents for me.) 

Colourful streamers popped out from party crackers, filling the room with vibrancy and joy. 

(Last year, I would've been too afraid to accept that happy scene.) 

But with her smiling next to me, I had the courage to embrace that happiness. 

Tom: From that look on your face, I can already tell you had a good time. I’m relieved to know that.

Tom: I’d appreciate it if you could also fly back here to celebrate with us too next year. 

While holding the keys, Tom smiled and I gave a vague smile in return…

(When that day comes, I’ll definitely fly back here like he said.)

Once you’ve gotten a taste of happiness, you can never forget it.

(I long to see your smile again and hear your congratulatory words.)

…

I parted ways with Tom and walked through the streets at night.

(It’s quite late, so Kate’s probably already asleep.)

I had let her know before leaving the castle that I’d be return late, so she definitely went to bed first.

The hands on the clock tower struck twelve, I lost count of how many nights I’ve spent walking alone like this. 

(In the past, I’d go out drinking, partying, or doing dangerous things with Al.) 

But ever since Kate and I started dating, my nightlife decreased dramatically and before I knew it, scouting potential date spots became my norm. 

(Maybe I should look around and plan our next date for the weekend.)

I turned around and went past shops I planned to visit with Kate.

(Here and…)

(This shop too.) 

Liam: That should do it. 

After checking out various places, I was on my way home again.

It had been two hours.

(We’ll have a meal together first, then we’ll check out that shop for some trinkets, after that we’ll go grab a snack…) 

As I was planning our date while walking in the night, the lightness of my heart was shown in my footsteps. 

(Kate will definitely like that shop.) 

A smile formed on my lips when I imagined her reaction, and the smell of modern roses reached my nose. I reached into my pocket and inside it was a pink pouch filled with the rose petals Kate showered me with on my birthday. 

(I was right to turn it into a sachet to carry around with me.)

I narrowed my eyes contentedly when I gently shook the sachet and caught another waft of the roses. 

(I’m sure that this scent will fade away too.) 

But you taught me that there’ll always be next time. 

(Like petals falling off a flower, happiness will eventually come to an end.)

(But I’ll live in the present as though that day will never come.)

— As long as you continue shining brightly at the centre of my world. 

Liam: … This won’t do, I need to see Kate right now. 

I put the sachet back into my pocket and quickened my pace. 

The stars twinkled in the sky. 

…

Without knocking on the door, I sneaked into Kate’s bedroom and saw her sound asleep on the bed. A smile formed on my face.

(She has such an adorable sleeping face… I wonder what kind of dream she’s having.)

From the slight upward curve of her lips, I thought that she must've been having a pleasant dream and laid down next to her.

Before I met Kate, my heart that never once felt full was always dull. 

But after meeting her, I continued being afraid of experiencing happiness and regretting having ever been born.

(... Even now, I still can’t bring myself to say that I’m glad I was born.) 

The scars in my heart remained, and they would never disappear. 

(But despite that, you saved me.) 

Kate smiled happily as I tucked the strand of hair that had fallen onto her cheek, behind her ear.

Kate: Liam… welcome home…

Liam: Sorry, did I wake you? 

I quickly moved away, but Kate stayed fast asleep… 

Liam: … Was she sleep-talking? 

She snuggled up against my chest with a tender smile. 

Liam: … Do you see me even in your dreams? 

Despite not receiving a reply, I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. 

Liam: That’s not fair. I want to see you in my dreams too.

Even now, I’m still afraid of sleeping.

(Because I can never have happy dreams.)

But being by your side makes me feel like I won’t get nightmares.

Liam: I wanted to feel happy and needed by someone, and yet I wasn't prepared to receive happiness. 

Liam: That’s why there were so many moments where I couldn't bring myself to take your hand. 

There were multiple instances where I wished I had taken your hand.

Liam: But because you didn't give up on me, I started believing that I shouldn't give up on myself either. 

Time and time again, you reached out your small hand towards me; and that’s why I can be here right now, expressing my love for you. 

Liam: That’s why, this time, I’ll be the one to hold your hand no matter how many times. 

Liam: If it slips away, I’ll tighten my grip. If we miss each other, I’ll run after you. 

Liam: Even if you give up on yourself, I’ll never give up on you.

Liam: With the rest of my life, I’ll repay you for everything you’ve done for me.

Drawn to her warmth, sleepiness started to wash over me. It was a rare occurrence. 

(It still scares me to give into my sleepiness, but…)

For some reason, I had a feeling I would have a pleasant dream that night.

Liam: Good night, Kate. See you in my dreams. 

As I hugged her tightly and shut my eyes, I saw with my mind’s eye an image of her showering me with petals.

— Tonight, too, the brightest star in my universe was shining brilliantly in my arms. 

[beenbaanbuun]

tears - opposites attract

this is kind of short but i was thinking about jongho and i had to write something about him. i’m working on requests and i should be finished with a few of them soon 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

——————————————————————————

mingi…

that bastard has stolen your werewolf from you. it’s just for today and hongjoong promised seonghwa that the two of them—and probably mingi as well—would be back in time for dinner. he promised he’d let san know to make dinner as usual, but as of yet he hasn’t stepped out of his greenhouse once. something about being on the ‘precipice of a breakthrough!’ is what he told you that morning when he slipped out of bed far earlier than you or hongjoong, although a breakthrough of what, you’re unsure.

the first part of the morning was spent with san, trailing him around the house as he tidied and cleaned. you’d asked him what he’d be doing on his day off the following week; he told you he didn’t know but it’s almost certain that he wouldn’t be going home. he mentioned the price of train tickets being too expensive, but with the way he bowed his head to hide his expression, you could tell there was something more going on. you didn’t push, just like you wouldn’t want san to push. instead you stand there in a sad silence as san dusts the mantle piece in the living room.

“did you know this house is haunted?” you break the silence as you cast your gaze across the rug in the centre of the room. you can almost hear the crying that comes hand in hand with your ghost, the sound becoming almost comforting the more you hear it. it sounds strange to say that; to admit that you take comfort from someone else’s misery, but it’s the truth. the sound of his quiet sniffles has become synonymous with friendship and love and affection.

san turns to you with an eyebrow raised.

“well i’d have to assume so,” he takes a moment to look around the room, gesturing to all the antiquities and grandiose, “all this shit is bound to carry a few spirits, right?” the dust cloth he carries brushes past your arm as he takes it back to the mantle; you brush the filthy residue away with a grumble. “i don’t really care as long as they don’t come into my room. i’m far too tired to be dealing with ghosts whenever i try to sleep.”

you giggle at the image of the tearful man standing at the foot of san’s bed, staring at the butler with wet eyes and a frown. if san could see him, you have no doubt he’d take pity on the poor creature. as it stands, the idea is simply that; an idea.

“he might be,” you shrug, “but you wouldn’t know. the further he gets from his pelt, the less visible he becomes.”

the thought breaks your heart a little now that you dwell on it. he could be anywhere at any time and you just wouldn’t know it; does he ever feel ignored? or trapped? to have the only love you’ve ever received confined to a single room must be tough. it’s like an ultimatum that neither of you had a say in. a cruel trick from the universe to punish him for his spirit remaining here so long after his death. perhaps he yearns to move on, to find reprieve from the loneliness that haunts the walls of this house just as he does. the very house that has become your freedom must feel like a prison for him.

you wonder for a moment how long he’s been dead for, but the thought seems to manifest itself as a lump in your throat. he told you in his own words that he’d never known love before, just as hongjoong said the rug had been a family heirloom. you dread to think how many generations it has been passed through, each of them bringing even more loneliness and sorrow to the bear.

it makes sense now, why he cries. at first you figured it might be pain, that perhaps he still feels the weapon that led to his death lodged in his heart. in a way you suppose it is pain, and you have no doubt that it’s in his heart, but just not in the way you expected.

with a sigh, you leave the butler’s side to take a seat on the rug. you want to be close to him right now, for your own benefit as much as his. even though you can’t see him right know, you know he’s right there beside you. the shiver that runs up your arm is enough to confirm that fact. you don’t wipe it away or hide from in, instead basking in that icy cold feeling that makes your goosebumps blossom like the flowers in seonghwa’s greenhouse. you hope he can see them and know that even when he can’t be seen, he can still be felt.

you hope he knows you could never ignore him.

[stars-tonight]

100 REASONS

tw: depressed!reader

he sees your struggle.

he sees the bags under your eyes, which themselves are swollen and puffy from crying. he sees you zone out in class, head propped up on your hand as you gaze out the window. you seem so at peace, so tranquil, but occasionally you’ll frown and crease your eyebrows, and a look of pain crosses your face. he wants to wipe it away, to hug you and hold you until your worries go out the door. but he doesn’t know how to approach you. you’ve never really talked to each other, but he’s noticed you a long time ago. he doesn’t like thinking of you being sad, but reality often sucks. and here you are in front of him, fading away, and he can’t seem to do anything about it.

fine, he decides. if i can’t comfort them through words or touch, i’ll do it through action. 

the next day when you come into school, there’s a glass jar on your desk. [y/n], reads a sticker carefully pasted across the front. you study it warily before taking it into your hands as you sit down. inside is a bunch of folded paper cranes. you take one curiously--you’ve never been very good at origami--and study it. it’s folded carefully; you can tell a lot of effort went into making it. you smile a little, and you’re about to put it down when you notice something on the inside. it looks like a pen mark, so you hesitantly unfold the paper crane.

9. your eyes are so pretty.

you frown at the note. it’s written neatly, in black pen. you unfold another one: 84. i love your laugh.

your heart skips a beat. the teacher comes in and starts class, and you hastily shove both pieces of unfolded paper into your folder, carefully tucking the jar into your backpack.

you finish reading all the papers when you get home. there are a hundred in total, each with a little note for you. they range from you are so smart to you always help others without asking for anything in return. with each one you read, your heart feels a little lighter. you don’t know who could be so kind to make this for you, but they must have seen that you weren’t doing so good. you feel like crying. you didn’t think anyone cared about you enough to notice you were struggling, let alone do something about it to make you feel better.

there’s an actual note, folded into a square, thrown into the jar too. [y/n], it reads. i couldn’t help but notice that these last few days, you seemed really tired. take a break, okay? eat good food, go for a walk, listen to your favorite music. take a long shower, play with a pet, read your favorite book. do all the things that make you happy. it will be okay. forgive me for being too scared to tell you this face-to-face, but everything i want to say i’ve written in these paper cranes. take one out any time you’re feeling sad and read it. together, they make up a hundred reasons why i love you. and remember you are not alone. whenever you’re feeling like you’re alone in this big, cruel world, remember that there’s a boy, just a dumb, lovesick boy, who knows and loves you.

the next day, he sees you come into the classroom looking considerably happier. he can’t help but smile seeing you happy. if his gift cheered you up even a little, it was all worth it. do you know it was him who spent all night folding those paper cranes for you? probably not. does he care?

definitely not.

SUNA RINTARŌ, AKAASHI KEIJI, kita shinsuke, SUGAWARA KŌSHI, iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu, YAMAGUCHI TADASHI, AZUMANE ASAHI

A/N: not doing so hot so i’m writing this when i should be studying for an anatomy quiz

update: by the time i posted this i'm back home after school; i think the quiz went well lol

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.

Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping

It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.

LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.

“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“

“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”

A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “

“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”

LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”

He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.

It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.

He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”

A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”

There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.

He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.

It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.

Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.

“Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”

Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”

“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”

- C”

“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.

“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”

“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”

And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”

“Get this brainless lump off of me!”

“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.

“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”

“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”

The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.

LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.

“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.

It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…

But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”

If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.

Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.

LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.

“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.

Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”

And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹(coming soon)

Image Sources: One | Two

[1byhwng]

16 with chan pleasee 🫶🏻🫶🏻 make it as angsty as possible hehe

prompt 16 - “we’re done”

member; Chan

The one thing you thought would never happen with Chan happened. You’ve always thought he was a great guy, never capable of doing anything so low.

You were wrong and you hate that you were, you wish it wasn’t true. It’s sad to think about..the amazing caring Chan cheating on you, with your best friend.

you haven’t talked to him about it but it was clear that you were distancing yourself from him. But he didn’t seem to mind.

It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen chris..your own boyfriend. He hasn’t even been replying to your texts at all and when he did he’d send short answers not even a ´love you’ just a ‘ttyl’. He would rarely send any pictures to show how he was doing or called to hear your voice.

You’re sitting on the couch reading when you hear a knock at the door. You set your book down and walk to the door opening it to see Chan there with a bouquet of flowers, all of the flowers were your favorite colors.  “Hey baby” he says walking handing you the bouquet before giving you a short kiss. You just stood there unsure of what to say or do.

you look at the flowers, it was a very pretty arrangement of course but your gut just wouldn’t let you be happy about it. It wouldn’t let you be happy about finally seeing your boyfriend. It wouldn’t let you forget the fact that he cheated on you with your best friend.

You could see the confusion in his eyes as the silence fill the room. “Do you not like them? I can take them back and get different ones.” He says in a hurried manner.

you don’t respond for a moment, your mind running a thousand miles a minute.

You feel tears brim your eyes as you look up at him “you cant just show up to my house…after completely ignoring me for weeks.” Your handd tightening around the bouquet. “Baby..you know I’ve been busy-“ you shove the bouquet back in his hands already having enough of his excuses “busy cheating on me by fucking my best friend?!” You could see the shock in his face “Y/N it’s not like that, I promise you.” He reaches out to you but you move away “I wouldn’t do that to you..”

“but you did, Chris. You did the one thing I didn’t think you would do.”

He stays silent as he sees your state. He could tell you’ve probably already known about it. “please let me explain…I promise it will make sense.” You clench your fist as he speaks. “You don’t have to.” You say taking a breath before speaking again “we’re done”. The look on Chan’s face breaks you but not as much as it broke you when you found out he cheated.

“you’ve got to be joking, Y/N? Please tell me you’re joking.” He says his eyes tearing up. “Please leave Christopher.” You say looking away from him. “Don’t call me that.” He cringes as you say his government name. You shrug and motion to the door trying to hold back any more tears. “I won’t ask again, leave.” You speak in a stern tone.

“Fine.” You watch as he walks to the door. He stops and tosses the bouquet to you. “I still love you..I did something stupid and yes that was my fault but I never stopped caring for you.” he says before leaving.

You look at the flowers scattered across your floor as you cry. You’d never think you’d care that much about him. Before you could curse yourself for confronting him you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

You open your phone to see Felix’s messages the number going up every few seconds. Atleast you knew you had someone to talk to.

A/N - I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted but I tried 😭