#Males are stupid and territorial and will try to take you on

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT3 | pt2 | pt1 |

apparently simon wasn't the only one who loved your scent.

other males had been trespassing on his territory, coming dangerously close to his den. to you.

simon tried to make his scent more pronounced. to keep them away. to keep his bunny safe.

fortunately, so far, no one had been brave enough, to deliberately come after you. and simon thought that nobody would be.

until that day.

simon had left for water that evening. he wouldn't have been gone for long. it was always risky to leave you alone, without his protection. but simon promised to be quick.

unfortunately, that was enough time for him.

you shouldn't have been so naïve. so stupid. you should've stayed vigilant. but you were just cleaning the den. you didn't feel threatened. you felt safe.

heavy thumps on top of the den. that's what you heard first. you looked up, a little bit of dirt fell down from the den ceiling, and dropped on your head. it must be simon. it has to be. right?

but then. there was slow struggling at the den's entrance. you couldn't see it, it was behind a curve. but you could hear it. simon didn't have to struggle to get inside. it was his den after all, it was just big enough, to let him inside.

maybe he was just struggling with the water. yeah. it's simon, you tried to reassure yourself.

"s-simon...?" your voice was meek, scared, unsure. you've stopped messing with the nest, now only focused on the noises coming from the den's entrance.

the obvious struggles at the entrance stopped.

why? simon would give you an answer, wouldn't he?

the weather was beautiful. there was only few clouds covering the blue sky. the sun glared down, hot and bright. it made the snowbanks sparkle beautifully.

the hot light made the snow melt away, uncovering calm, small rapid. the clear water ran over the rocks underneath it's surface. only more and more snow kept melting into the water, small droplets falling down from the melting ice, and snow.

simon knelt by the river. filling a carved, wooden bucket, with the cold, refreshing water.

he had to keep himself, and the bunny hydrated, after all.

the bucket filled pretty quickly, and simon was ready to head back to the den.

the snow crunched under his steps. simons hot breath came out as steam, as it hit the cold air. frost was starting to form on the tips of his hair.

the wolf's movements stilled, as smell hit his nose. a musk. another male.

simon dropped the water filled bucket, and began to run. you were alone. hopefully you were alone.

but he wasn't there to protect you. oh, god.

panic flared inside simon, his heart beating out of his chest.

the den was just a rocks throw away from the river. simon was quickly there. that didn't calm him down. somebody was kneeling at the den's entrance, trying to dig in. trying to get to his bunny.

simon panted heavily as he approached. the trespasser heard him coming. with a smirk on his face, the intruder turned around, to look at simon. simon's hands clenched into fists, his skin turning white.

he gritted his teeth. "mace." the wolfs voice resembled a growl.

here this bear was, trying to steal his bun. simon knew him, a territorial rival. and now he was attempting to take his fucking mate. his mate. his.

the black bear chuckled darkly, as he stood up.

"can smell her... you're hiding a sweet thing in there..."

"time for you to go, mace." simon grumbled.

mace grinned. "i'll leave you be, for now."

he walked down from the den's entrance, towards simon.

"might wanna keep her in there. never know when she's going to get snatched up."

mace's shoulder knocked against simon's, when he walked past him.

simon was fuming. his whole body moved, as he took heavy breaths.

the wolf listened, until the sound of footsteps faded away, before rushing to the mouth of the den.

"bun? come here." he called out, into the tunnel.

he had to wait a moment, before he saw your head sticking out of the hole.

simon sighed. "come here..." he signaled for you to come closer with his hand. slowly, and hesitantly, you crawled to the entrance of the den, where he was waiting for you.

"you okay, bun?" simon mumbled, his hand gently holding your cheek. after a meek nod of your head, simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

simon leaned away, and gently guided you back down into the den, following suite after you. once you were down in the nest, simon made sure to hold you tight against his chest.

"you know that I would never let anything happen to you. you know that, don't you, bunny?" the wolf murmured into your ear, his free hand slowly making it's way down your stomach.

"what can i do to calm you down, huh? you're still shaking." his hot breath hitting your ear. simon was being sneaky. before you even knew it, his calloused fingers, pinched your nub.

he chuckled at the squeal you let out. his fingers began to gently massage your little clit.

"i'll never let that happen again. okay?" his voice got more serious, and his touch harder. your legs kicked out at the increasing pressure on your sensitive clit.

his touch didn't relent. it only got more determined.

determined to distract you from the scary situation, you had to go through.

determined to make you feel good.

the feeling was foreign. his touch was so tough, just like him. but his words were so sweet. the pressure in your belly grew. your breathing got heavier. simon noticed. with a wicked smirk on his face, his movements got faster.

"give it to me. c'mon bunny... i know you want to." he so meanly teased.

it just suddenly hit you. your legs tensed up, and your breath hitched. luckily, simon decided to show you mercy. he helped you get down from your bliss, before pulling his hand from in between your sweet thighs. your juices coated his fingers. simon grinned at the sight.

the bunny was now completely limp in his arms, panting and exhausted. simon wiped his dirty fingers against the fur on your stomach. simon's hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to look at him.

"go to sleep, bunny..." he murmured quietly, laying you against his side. his arms rested around you, in a protective hold. he couldn't even imagine how scary it must've been for you, being trapped down here, with no way out, while somebody was trying to crawl inside.

but just as he promised, simon would never let it happen again.

authors note: that poor bucket, alone in the cold forest :(

heart divider by @roseschoices

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COMMENT TO GET ON THIS TAGLIST 😠

[taegimood]

i’ve never ventured this far into male sub territory but… here are some thoughts on pegging txt 🫣 (if you don’t like it, don’t read it~!)

subby soogyu ; switch kai ; dom taejun

NSFW — MDNI

masterlist

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this is in no particular order other than the order that they came to mind in, but firstly,

⇢ beomgyu: oh man… he’d be shy about it at first, and rather than him bringing it up, you’re the one who gently approaches the topic after getting the inkling that it’s something he wants to try;

laying on his stomach while you take him in pronebone, his whimpers muffled by the pillow he’s hiding his flushed face in, full of uncontrollable little gasps and trembles as you steadily rock against him with your hands gently squeezing his hips.

“feels good, baby?” you’d ask, and all he’d be able to do is nod quickly into the pillow, so shy over how easily he’s falling apart for you like this.

your thrusts eventually growing firmer and he’d start rutting his hips into the mattress, hard leaking cock aching for friction — you wouldn’t let him, giving him a small spank that results in his desperate, muffled groan, his head finally shifting to the side a little to peek up at you over his shoulder with hazy, watery eyes.

“please,” he’d grit softly, all his usual brattiness flown far out the window when you’re inside him (until he starts getting used to it, at least, but that’s a whole other story).

you’d reach down to slide your hand up his back and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently, just enough for his head to lift slightly off the pillow, eyes fluttering shut and jaw dropping open around a moan as you push in as deep as you can go — the unfamiliar nudge against his prostrate would have him cumming immediately against the sheets with a strangled noise and a jolt of his hips. belly sticky with his own release, you let his head drop back down against the pillow as he lays there panting, eyes heavy-lidded and fingers still gripping the pillow’s edges tightly as you soothe him down from his high.

(you may even sneak some overstimulation in there via handjob right afterwards, much to his mewling, hip-bucking surprise).

it’s safe to say then that you’ll definitely be doing this with him again.

⇢ soobin: it doesn’t happen particularly often, but you’d just have a way of knowing when he needs it; coming home tired and overworked, feeling the weight of leadership and responsibility on his shoulders, needing someone else to take care of him even if only for a little while.

there’s a special look reserved for these occasions, one where he doesn’t even need to say anything, one that you understand the meaning of immediately when he trudges sullenly through the door.

similar to beomgyu, i can picture him laying on his stomach; one knee bent and cheek resting against the pillow while you roll your hips against him, gently but firmly gripping his ass for leverage. his eyes squeezed shut as he bites down on the corner of the sheet in his grasp, a futile half-assed attempt at muffling the sweet staccato moans that bubble past his lips, drool collecting at the corners — though he doesn’t care about any of that right now, only focused on how good it feels to let go, his hips jumping every time his weeping cock rubs against the sheets beneath him from the steady movements of your thrusts.

he’d groan gutturally every time you degrade him, a contrast to his otherwise higher-pitched sounds; “dumb baby just wants to get fucked, huh? just wants to lay there all stupid and take it?”

and alternatively, when you later have him turn over onto his back so you can offer stimulation to his poor aching cock, whimpers fall from his pouty lips both from the feeling and from your praise as you lean down towards him with a gentle hand around his throat and whisper, “you’re so perfect, binnie, ‘m so proud of you.”

between your words and the way your free hand strokes him perfectly in time with your now deeper-angled thrusts, it wouldn’t be long before his cum is spilling out over your fist and all over his abs with a sharp, gasping moan as his large hand wraps desperately around your much smaller wrist while you lightly squeeze his throat. afterwards you’d lean down to pepper his cheeks in soft kisses, and his eyes would slide shut with a sigh as he shakily breathes, “thank you.”

⇢ yeonjun: okay, with yeonjun it would be especially fun. i definitely do see him as a dom, but i also see him as someone willing to try lots of things — so he’d agree to let you try pegging him not even because he’s into it but just because he’s down to experiment and have fun with it if it’s something you want to do.

so while it may be more in your interest than it is in his, that certainly wouldn’t stop him from putting his whole yeonussy into it. no toxic masculinity to be found! he’s a confident guy; ever the performer, he wouldn’t be afraid to go ass up for you, his moans filthy and pornographic as you fuck into him from behind, giggles falling past your lips as he grins up at you devilishly over his shoulder. he loves to see you enjoying yourself, and he’s definitely not above admitting how good it actually does feel — so it’s safe to say that this kinky experiment would be a successful one for the both of you.

“fuck, harder,” he’d groan, head slumping down into the pillows with his lip between his teeth, smirking around a satisfied, gasped-out moan when you comply. despite being the bottom here, he’d be more of a yapper in this situation than you; not even the switch in dynamics can stop him from spewing all kinds of nasty things as he pushes back against your hips to meet your thrusts.

“how’d you learn to fuck this good, huh, princess? shit, just like that, yeah- fuck, give it to me- god, you’re so deep. is this how you feel when i’m rearranging your guts? ah-!”

the spank you’d land on his ass in response would only make him cockier, a breathless laugh turned shameless moan as he presses his upper body down against the sheets and arches his back further for you.

“i must be a good teacher,” he’d slur with a shit-eating grin.

“shut up,” you’d reply back, reaching around with one hand to firmly pump his stiff cock, which of course only does the opposite of getting him to shut up — though you don’t complain, not when you’re so turned on by his eagerness, not when you already know that he’ll be letting you try this on him again.

⇢ taehyun: now i’m sorry to all my sub!tyun enthusiasts out there, but... i think he would shut that shit down IMMEDIATELY lmfao 😭

i see taehyun as a pure dom — you’d propose the idea to him more as a silly musing than anything, but the unimpressed, brow-quirked look he’d give you would be similar enough to his notorious brat taming stare that it would have you backtracking on your words right away.

i think he’d even go as far as to do the opposite and fuck you stupid instead in response, leaving you too drunk on his cock to even remember why you wanted to try pegging him in the first place as he challenges in your ear while he’s got you bent practically in half, “still wanna put it in my ass?”

BUT,,, this is a post abt pegging, so.. hypothetically, if taehyun really were to let you put it in his ass, here’s how i think it would go.

now let’s remember that taehyun is also a spontaneous and adventurous person in general. so perhaps that would be one of the driving points in him agreeing, but i think the main thing that would finally make him relent is the fact that in the end, he always prioritizes your pleasure and if it’s something you really want to try, he’d let you do it at least once.

begrudgingly settling back against the pillows when it’s time, slightly propped up as you situate yourself between his legs — abs clenching and a small hiss from between his teeth as you slowly enter him, your hand wrapping around his cock with a squeeze as you slide it up to circle your thumb around the tip.

he’d inhale sharply when you eventually bottom out; his hands gripping the tops of your thighs, still somehow holding an air of control even in this situation. he’d even reach down to circle his fingers around your clit as you begin to move in and out of him, your lips parting around a small mewl as you pump his cock in time with the pace of his fingers, his eyes boring up into yours almost challengingly the entire time in a way that leaves you breathless.

you’d become enamored, though, with the way he eventually starts to fall apart, even though he fights hard to keep control of himself — his breaths gradually growing quicker and heavier, teeth gritting and grip on you tightening before his lips would finally part in a small, pretty noise that takes you completely by surprise.

his usual deep grunts would be replaced by choked, breathy sounds in a pitch that you’ve only ever heard when he sings; and that’s when you’d start to get bold, testing the waters, repeatedly edging his throbbing cock and — much to his surprise — pushing his hands away when he’d try to take back some semblance of control.

“fuck, come on, babe-“ “i decide when you cum this time, tyunnie.” a breathless, disbelieving laugh on his end — “oh, you do, huh? you better be careful, doll, or you’re gonna- a-ah!- regret that later-“

at first he’d find your attempt at dominance amusing, cute — until it’s not, because then he’d even begin to think that it’s hot. you’d never have imagined you’d have your big, strong, dominant boyfriend groaning and gasping so pliantly underneath you like this, but when he finally cums, he’s immediately slumping limply back against the pillows with panting breaths and twitching hips.

your triumph doesn’t last too long, however, when he brings his hand to your throat to pull you down into a firm kiss — you already know that he was definitely not lying about putting you in your place later, which you can’t even pretend to protest to as your neglected pussy clenches pathetically in response. (“this slutty little pussy can’t even go a day without needing my cock to fill it up, can it?” he’d tsk mockingly in your ear later as he fucks you face down into the mattress).

not sure how easily he’d let you peg him again, but i will say it may not be the last time he lets you edge him.

⇢ kai: cue calm huening smile that makes you think you’re dead meat for a second when you first suggest it..

nah but i think hyuka would be patient with your ideas, surprisingly willing to go along with them most of the time, so on days when you skip over to him with the strap he just *small sigh* “okay 🙂”

he enjoys it when you dote on him anyway, so he can’t really complain whenever you situate him into a nest of pillows and plushies, smiling up at you sweetly with his hands on your waist as you cover him in kisses and promises that you’ll make him feel good.

he knows that you will; his head tipping back into the pillows and eyes sliding shut with a slow, breathy sigh as you enter him, his fingers tightening marginally in their soft grip on your skin, your lips on his neck as you rock into him making him hum out a quiet noise that soon turns into a whimper when you wrap your hand around his thick cock and slowly begin to stroke.

you wouldn’t need to keep doing that for long, though, because he’d soon begin rolling his hips up instead, fucking himself into your hand in a steady rhythm as he looks up at you through hazy, half-lidded eyes.

neither of you would really need to say much; all soft noises and quiet whispers, his large hands wandering your body all the while, and you would know he’s getting close when the room starts to fill with the lewd wet sounds of his cock squelching in your hand, leaking more and more pre-cum the deeper you go — his back would arch with a whimpered groan, eyes squeezing shut as his head falls back, and you then pressing down to nip and kiss at his exposed jaw with a particularly punctuated thrust would be all that it takes for his release to spurt from his tip and coat the both of your bellies in creamy white.

you’d both giggle a little in the aftermath when you coo at him, and he’s happy that you’re happy, wanting to return the favor once the strap is off as he begins guiding your hips up towards his face for a well-deserved meal. (well-deserved for who? no one knows, cuz it’s a win/win for you both).

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a/n - my bad i didn’t mean for terry’s part to be so much longer i got lost in the sauce

~~~

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[reschatzi]

SIMON RILEY ── YOU GET ME SO HIGH

🕸️·˚ ༘ warnings. top male reader. bottom simon. high typa shit. flashbacks. smoking. mentioned drinking. public sex. cockwarming. breathplay.

ִ ࣪𖤐 ࣪ by the end of it all, the smoke you exhale transforms into a kiss. ◞

the exact date when it began is something you’re unsure of.

he, lieutenant simon riley, simply walked into your room without a knock. no words were exchanged, not that they were really needed. your mouth opened, agape. a “what?” is what you want to utter, but his lips catches your own.

simon riley groans when he feels you return the kiss. the faint taste of malt liquor on your tongue has him pushing you back, onto your bed, as he straddles your lap. you remember that he asks,

“do you want this?”

his voice was breathless. heavy pants meeting your neck.

and you do. you agree, the next moments a blur. he lowers himself on your cock when he’s ready. he already was before he barged in.

strangely, something blooms. a progression you won’t know where it’ll lead. nothing worrying, nothing out-of-place. at least on the outside, it won’t attract that much attention. yours was focused on the feeling of simon’s hole stretching to accommodate to your size. it was stupid.

no, really. it was late at night, but that didn’t mean no one would wander around these hours. you were in the hallway, supposedly on the way to your room when simon couldn’t take the wait anymore. there’s not much plot to this story. fuck then leave. that was it. you hated that, and you were projecting your one-sided feelings onto his prostate.

“ah, ah, ah. fu—fuuck. shit- ggah! mhng... wait—”

your hand clasped his neck and he gasps. alarms blared in your head, you shouldn’t do this. this was territory you haven’t spoken or even thought of.

guilty, you wanted to whisper an apology. thrusts shifting into slow grinds, handing him a way out. but he only leaned into your palm, the coldness, near emptiness, emanating from your glove contrasting to the warmth of his shrouded flesh. “don’t... don’t stop.” he breathes, like there’s no more oxygen in his lungs.

exhale.

that’s what you did.

you puff out the smoke you inhaled from the cigarette that was in between your index and middle fingers. the dirty air landed on his half-masked face. his cheek went to rest on your shoulder, hips lazily lifting themselves up and back down. you lead the cigar to his mouth. sharing something like this, in this situation, with this person, was beyond unbelievable.

fuck, what even happened?

the events that were replaying in your head moments ago were quickly fading. you’re too tired. too unfocused. you hear him call your name. then another time. then another. he gently pats your face. “look at me,” your eyes dart downwards to him. “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he says as he brings himself back down on your cock.

“nothin’... s’ just—” he clenches around you when he feels the tip of your dick graze his sweet spot.

simon hums like he’s done an achievement. maybe he did, earning a whine from you. in some way, the weight of both of your chests were lighter. passing on the cigarette to one another, it was a repeating process. taking turns and the pace he set doesn’t change.

you think you’re losing the logical part of your brain. your thoughts are jumbled and gibberish. the temporary pleasure couldn’t outweigh the actual one you were experiencing now. your fingers find themselves attached to his neck, flexing as they try not to tighten their hold too much.

the last puff was yours. without thinking, you press the butt of the cigarette on his thigh to put it out.

he hisses, but the dizziness in you can’t find the moment to care. matter of fact, he enjoys it.

you don’t miss the way his thighs trembled, not missing the way he rocked against you hard. his cock throbbed and you show mercy. your free hand finds his length, causing him to see stars. he curses, lowly. “oh, shit, ‘m c-close.”

the lieutenant finds himself stuttering, losing his voice. how couldn’t he? you were hitting all of the right spots inside of him. both of your hands were on him, one working him up further to his release while the other bruised his neck. it was like you were claiming him but no one would know. they can’t find out unless you tell them or they’d catch a glimpse of his skin.

the combination of pain and pleasure was too good. his head was clouded, and so was yours. maybe he was at peace for once, all warm and tight around you. maybe, by the end of it all, the smoke you exhale transforms into a kiss from him.

and maybe, just maybe, you’re right.

𓍢‧₊🕷️ ࣪˖ knight’s phoning. wanna be apart of my taglist? fill out this form so you can be immediately notified for future fics. masterlist

[honeygrahambitch]

"I once had a very stupid fight with my wife." Will says as he watches Hannibal pouring the Sauvignon blanc in their glasses.

"Not that stupid if you felt the need to bring it up now." Hannibal said as he lifted his gaze from his glass to Will. Even though they've been together for a few months now, he still felt something inside himself getting triggered every time he would bring her up.

As if she would materialize in front of them and take Will away from him. Again. He was not sure if he preferred it when Will called her "Molly" instead of "my wife". Both felt like the screech of chalk on a blackboard.

The term "wife" however, made it feel less personal since it only highlighted a title given by a piece of paper. Mundane. Profane. The piece of paper was not enough for Will to stay with her. The problem with that construction was therefore not "wife", it was the possessive pronoun "my".

Well, technically she was Will's wife until their marriage would get terminated. But Hannibal didn't want Will to use "my" for anyone. And this has been something which has started from before going to prison and before fleeing to Florence.

Quite territorial of him to gain his man back and still act that way even when they had literally jumped off a cliff together. No piece of paper could beat that.

"It's the wine that reminded me." Will explained.

Hannibal arched an eyebrow. What did Will mean by that? He hadn't even had a chance to drink yet, how could the wine bring back such memories already?

"You know, me and Molly hardly ever fought."

Hannibal blinked a few times and tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. There it was, the name as well.

"I don't think, in fact, that this was a fight either. Now that I think about it, my confrontational style is not what a wife is looking for."

Hannibal looked at him with interest, not missing the way he said "a wife". So general. So unimportant. A wife like any other wife, nothing unique.

"Your confrontational style is indeed too passive for a wife." He agreed. "Passive and acidic."

From threatening him with a gun, to almost stabbing him, to starting his therapy again, to "dropping the mic", Hannibal was sure that Molly hasn't even experienced a small percentage of what Will could be capable of.

Will hummed as he picked up his glass and stared at his reflection in the clear white wine.

"So what happened?" Hannibal asked, now interested.

"She paired the fish I caught that day with the wrong wine."

Hannibal parted his lips slightly and didn't take his gaze away from Will, searching him from head to toes. "Was that a problem? To you?"

"No, but it would have been a real problem to you."

Hannibal felt the need to bring his own glass to his lips.

"You wouldn't have made such a mistake. And you wouldn't have brushed it off. You know, Molly - she's a g&t type of person. So it wasn't that big of a deal to her. And I laughed it off."

"But it wasn't that easy."

"It wasn't that easy and she noticed that it was deeper than that. It was not that I was trying to play the alpha male, trying to teach her how to drink wine. She was smart, she knew that was not my intention." Will said.

"So what followed?"

"The reason why we functioned for those few years was exactly because she knew not to get too close. We were both aware she wouldn't like it if she did. Which kind of sounds pathetic since marriage involves all that "for better and worse" thing."

"An overused statement which people are nowadays taking for granted." Hannibal added. "Your marriage did not entail the "for worse" part, did it?"

"Out of mutual convenience. Since "my worst" was something both of us wanted to stay away from. We had all the good parts. So instead of trying to figure out why I was so bothered by her poor choice of wine, she told me to go buy the right type of wine if I disagree with the rosé. And we both laughed."

"And did you?" Hannibal asked, a bit amused, a bit bitter.

Will looked around the room and then looked at him only. "Here I am, I did exactly what she said. Went for the wine that could be properly paired with myself."

Hannibal knew that at that point every effort to keep a neutral face would be futile. He was beaming right there, under Will's gaze.

[medusapelagia]

14 The betrothal

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Lake), @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: prince and princess ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Hand Kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: omegaverse, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Beta Robin Buckley, violence, blood and injuries, vomit Words: 1563

If Steve was a proper omega he wouldn't be on that stupid carriage, to be shipped from Loch Nora's Kingdom to Forest Park like an unwanted pack.

A proper omega would honor his family, stay home, cross-stitch animals and flowers, and learn poems and music. But Steve never was a proper omega and after he rejected his last suitor his father told him that he wasted his last opportunity to choose a proper alpha and that he was going to find one willing to take in a rebel omega like him.

Male omegas are a blessing and a curse: they are very rare, so Steve's father was able to ask for a high dowry from whoever wanted to marry him, but there weren't many alphas willing to tie their life to a male omega. 

Steve has heard talking about Forest Park. A lot. And never in a good way.

They have a very bad reputation, but they are rich, so Steve has no doubt that his father got a really good dowry for selling him to those people. Well, not selling, betrothing him.

Thankfully, Robin is coming with him. Moving from one Kingdom to another and being completely alone would have been terrible, at least his beta best friend is trying to make him laugh by making silly comments and distract him from the long journey.

Even if the carriage is big and cozy, spending hours sitting on a carriage isn't that comfortable, and Steve's royal ass is in pain.

He doesn't even have enough space to stretch his long legs because in the carriage with them, there are the two guards King Munson himself sent to escort the future bride.

The guards are heavily armed, as they were expecting something to happen, and Steve isn't totally surprised. After all, Forest Hill has a terrible reputation. Their King was an outlaw before he rebelled and became king by killing everyone and conquering the castle, so Steve isn't really looking forward to moving in the same bed with a notorious assassin. But it’s not his choice anymore.

Savages, that's the kindest word Steve’s mom used to define those people, while what everyone thought but none dared to speak out loud was that King Munson was the new Warlord.

A warlord. Not a high-born, just a man with enough power and money to hire the strongest knight and mercenaries to help him keep his power. And Steve is going to get married to a Warlord’s son, or nephew, he's not really sure. Bloodlines are mixed in their Kingdom and they don't give a fuck about dynasties and the only blood that they care about is the one the blood spit by their enemies.

Steve has heard terrible stories about how cruel and violent those people are. One of Steve's servants has told him that Prince Munson killed his first wife with his own hands because she wasn't too sick to give him a child.

Being a male omega Steve knows he can bear pups, even if his heats are irregular and it's harder for him than for other omegas, but he never thought that the ability to bear a child or not could have been the cause of his premature death.

His scent gets sour and acrid while he thinks about the monster that he's supposed to wed. Maybe he should have been more pliant with his previous suitor. Lord Hagan wasn’t that bad after all. A little bit too presumptuous for Steve’s taste but he doubts he would have had him killed if he wasn’t able to bear a child.

"You ok? Do you want to take a break? Stretch your legs a bit?" Robin proposes, drawing soothing circles with her thumb on Steve's hand.

"Yeah, that would be nice." He confirms, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"No break and no stretching. We are still in hostile territory." One of the guards replies without even looking at Steve.

"Couldn't we stop just for a moment?" Robin insists, "We have been on this stupid carriage for hours!"

But an arrow flying through the window and ending his journey a few inches from her face makes her shut up.

"Stay down!" One guard yells, yanking Steve toward the carriage’s floor so abruptly that he falls badly on his own wrist, spraining it, but he doesn't have time to yelp because the carriage stops in the middle of the woods.

"Stay inside!" The first guard yells, jumping out of the carriage and drawing his sword. For a moment Steve catches a glimpse of a bloodied body staring blankly at him with a long arrow in the one eye socket.

"It's ok. It's ok." Robin tries to soothe him, releasing beta relaxing pheromones, but the other guard stops her, complaining that he can't afford to get relaxed by her pheromones, so Steve and Robin hug each other, trying to hide themselves from the attackers.

"He's here!" Someone yells, kicking the carriage door open, but the second guard is quick to pierce the intruder from side to side, what he wasn't expecting was someone else opening the door on the opposite side and grabbing Steve with no kindness, yanking him by his hair.

Robin screams, reaching out toward Steve, the guard turns his head just for a moment and another attacker takes his chance to stab him in the leg while Robin keeps screaming, but the clenching of the metal armor is so loud that Steve almost can't hear her.

A strong hit on the back of his head makes everything turn a warm black and he loses consciousness.

***

When he opens his eyes, Steve is surprised to find himself resting with his back against a big oak tree. In front of him the bluest lake he ever saw.

He puts down his hand, trying to get up, but immediately desists when a bright pain makes him whimper.

"I would stay put if I were you. Your wrist is sprained and you took a nasty hit to the head. Are you feeling dizzy?"

Steve startles, looking around himself, and finally finds a tall man with dark eyes and a nasty scar on his face staring at him with an amused smile.

His kidnapper!

The omega tries to crawl backward, but the unknown man is right, his wrist hurts too much and he still feels lightheaded.

"I think I'm going to puke…" he mutters, before turning on his side and emptying his stomach on the green grass.

Surprisingly, his kidnapper is quickly at his side, holding his hair out of his face, whispering encouraging words while he holds him to his chest with one arm.

When Steve's body gets limp into the kidnapper's arms, he takes a moment to breathe in his scent.

Embers and earth.

An alpha.

A proper omega should never be left alone with an alpha who's not family!

Steve tries to wriggle out of the stranger's hold, but he gently chuckles and pushes Steve's neck closer to the scent gland on his neck, "You're fine, omega. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm betrothed." He objects in a soft voice, while the alpha pheromones make him pliant and docile.

"That's what you're worried about? your honor?" The unknown alpha chuckles. 

He has a nice laugh, Steve decided in his drugged state of mind, and he smells delicious. No other alpha ever smelled so good to him.

Steve must have said something because a very pleased rumble comes from the alpha's chest.

"You don't smell bad yourself, sweetheart." 

Steve should be ashamed of himself, but the alpha's sturdy body is holding him tight and for the first time in his life he feels safe in an alpha's embrace.

"That's good. Come on, sip some water for me to wash away that bad taste."

The omega prince doesn't really know if the alpha is using his alpha's voice, or if he's already scentdrunk or whatever, but the only thing he wants to do is obey this alpha.

Steve spits a few times to clean his mouth from the horrible taste and then drinks some water, while the alpha keeps holding him tight.

The man’s wearing a beaten armor, stained with blood, and for a moment Steve wonders if he will kill him, but the way he keeps holding him makes him think that he’s affected by Steve’s scent as he is from his.

They aren't left alone for long. When Steve turns his head someone is riding toward them. Too many people.

Steve turns toward the alpha with eyes wide with worry, "You have to go. My future husband will kill you. He's a warlord! He won't be pleased you kidnapped me!"

"Kidnapped?" The alpha asks, staring with confusion at the omega, feeling Steve's head with gentle fingers, "How badly did they hurt you, omega?" he asks worriedly, and this time is Steve's turn to frown in confusion.

“I might not look so but I’m a prince. And I was on my way to wed the Forest Park’s Warlord's son. If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

Eddie bursts out in a loud laugh, shaking Steve who quietly complains of being jostled by the huge Alpha's body.

"Let me introduce myself," the alpha says, grabbing Steve's uninjured hand and kissing the palm of his hand in the most chivalrous way, "I'm Edward Munson, King Munson's nephew, your betrothal." 

[ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing]

The worst part of creating a ship where 2 out of the 3 people are like, barely even known by the fandom as a whole is if I want more JastObiKal content, I have to write most JastObiKal content.

Which is to say, I'm screwed.

But anyway, this new fic idea:

So, so NSFW. Also omegaverse.

I've got this idea where Obi-Wan, instead of going back with Qui-Gon on Bandomeer, he isn't saved and instead, manages to escape, and is too ashamed to go back to the Jedi so he decides to go into sex work.

And he gets really popular with the crowds because he does a whole 'bottom from the top' thing where he's the male equivalent of a dominatrix, and he gets roped into a political marriage with Jaster and Kal.

And this is omegaverse (because it 's me so like what were you expecting), but Jaster/Kal are an alpha-alpha pair, and the reason they are is because they aren't like super interested in having someone who is submissive (it's just super not their thing), and when they hear about Obi-Wan, they are like 'we can have children and someone to order us around? sign us up'.

But Obi-Wan doesn't like, super realize why they've picked him and so they are kind of walking around each other until finally they have to outright ask for what they want and Obi-Wan's like 'actually despite doing it as a job, I do really enjoy it' and he's already kind of leaned into these tendencies because it's in his nature and so he just decides to go full into it, but Jaster and Kal are loving it.

But like, Obi-Wan tying them up and blindfolding and then edging them until they are begging to come.

Then Obi-Wan unblindfolds one of them and waits until their cock isn't hard and then puts a cage on them and has them watch as Obi-Wans rides their partner stupid.

This might be a good time for Obi-Wan to wear latex and them both be allergic to it but desperate to touch him.

Especially if the underwear are latex.

Obi-Wan waits until their ruts are coming and then wears the latex so they can't try to mark him, or mount him, or even touch him.

Obi-Wan waits until they are literally like ready to break until he takes it all off and hops in the shower and gets all soft and invites them into his nest where he takes care of them until its over.

Mmm, maybe they get growly at each other and they are trying to mark territory and Obi goes absolutely not.

Obi-Wan washed their scent off and covers their marks and walks around talking to all the alpha guards. They're in session but they can see him in the garden.

And maybe they are on a planet where someone attacks Obi-Wan for talking back, because they have a much different idea of omegas and he's seen as disrespectful and Jaster and Kal come in, like metal chair style to rip them apart and Obi-Wan realizes he can trust them fully because he doesn't need them to take care of him, but it's nice to know they will anyway.

[slowlyoats]

The Blood Sucking Brady Bunch:

Chapter 1

Trying something different from my usual stuff. Here's the first chapter in a fanfic I started! Let me know what y'all think!

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

Trigger Warnings: none

The story contains original characters interacting with the Lost Boys universe and with its characters.

Summary: Max tries his hand at finding a mom for his boys again, and starts pursuing A vampire named Abigail, who has three “daughters” of her own. How will blending two vampire families go? The story is told from the POV of one of Abigail’s daughters.

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

Chapter 1: Introductions

Abigail wasn’t stupid. 

That’s what Juniper said when Abigail accepted the offering from Max.

Juniper was newer, she didn’t know Abigail  as well as Mary and I did yet. Hell, Juniper had only joined our little family a mere 3 years ago. That was nothing in the face of immortality. She still saw Abigail as this maternal figure, who was motherly and loving to her girls. Who was wise and clever and who could never be bested by anyone, especially a man.

But I knew better. 

Abigail was not a bad person, there were much worse Makers. The three of us could honestly count ourselves lucky for getting turned by Abigail.  She was motherly, yes, but mature? Especially when it comes to romance? No. 

She was still a schoolgirl at heart, waiting for her prince charming to come sweep her away. She was blind to the ways of men, despite having lived well over 100 years at this point. 

Typically, Abigail only ever got involved with human men. They were a lot more pliable, and much easier to deal with when things eventually got out of hand (which it often did). Human partners were also a great way to ensure that we were always well fed, without having to hunt.

 Hunting requires a lot more tact and strategy when you're a female vampire. We can’t just rely on brutish, raw strength.  Sure, we were stronger and faster than the strongest of humans but not by much. I like to think of it as the universe’s finally “fuck you” to all women who get turned.  Abigail says it has to do with how Vampirism originated and that male mammals are typically stronger than female ones, and blah blah, natural order, blah blah, sexist comment about her own sex, blah. I think I’m going to stick to my “last fuck you” theory instead.

Female vampires do tend to have much stronger talents though, which definitely make up for the universe being a giant sexiest.  We might not be able to hold our victims down and take what we want, but with one tilt of the head Juniper could simply boil your brain and turn it to soup. 

Max was the first vampire I had ever seen Abigail with. She always told me to avoid “the males” as she likes to call them, as much as you can. Male vampires meant trouble. They were territorial, impulsive, possessive, and they were experts at ruining a good thing. 

I remembered this, as Max presented Abigail with an offering of blood. Abigail had mentioned in the past that vampires have very distinct, ceremonial ways of going about courting.

Max and Abigail stood far enough away from the deck so that we could see them and hear them if we listened hard enough.

Juniper leaned against the hardwood railing, all doe eyed and rolling with energy.  Making remarks about how “it’s so romantic” and such.

 Mary quickly joined us out back once she spotted through the window what was happening. She pulled out a chair from our patio set and calmly watched.

It was a beautiful night, the moon was full  and there was a soft, warm summer breeze. I could hear the ocean waves crashing into the rocks on the east side of our home. An onlooker would take one look and think we were a scene straight out of a romance movie. 

But, if they only turned their heads slightly to the left (as I had just done) and peered into the forest and shrubbery they would see four pairs of eyes poking out, expectantly waiting for an invitation.

I noticed them first, then Juniper.

“Who are they?” Juniper whispered.

Mary looked over to where the eyes were.

“Those would be Max’s boys, if I had to guess”

“His boys?” Juniper's ears perked up. Always the more boy-crazy out of the three of us.

“I’ve heard they’re dangerous. We should keep our distance” I interject. 

Juniper squared her shoulders “so are we.”

“Not in the same way” Mary countered, clearly irritated at the growing male presence in our backyard

Max then bent down to the offering’s neck. I didn't recognize the man that Max had chosen to be his courting offering to Abigail.  Max bit into the man’s jugular artery.  He quickly retracted his fangs and looked at Abigail. Abigail then turned her head back to the porch with all of her girls watching. Her eyes met mine with a look I didn’t quite understand.

I shook my head; this was a bad idea.

Abigail turned back to Max, she placed one hand on his shoulder like they were about to waltz, and her other on the offering's shoulder and sucked on the wound Max had created for her. Max grinned with the acceptance of his offer

The shrubbery began to rustle then, and I could hear hushed swearing.  Suddenly, a small blonde man came tumbling out of a tree and fell face first onto our lawn.

“Dam-it Paul.” One of the voices shouted.

The small blond man looked up at Max and waved. Max did not look amused.

The man then turned his head to us. His face was round, and dimples framed his curved chin. He had brown eyes, and a mop of thick, dirty blond curls that flayed about everywhere.

He slowly surveyed us, and momentarily, looked almost shocked. I guess Max’s boys didn’t know about Abigail’s “girls.”

He then winked at Juniper.

“Hello ladies!” He shouted, waving at us more enthusiastically than he had at Max.

That had caught Abigail’s attention, and she turned from the now dead offering and Max, looking over at the small man. Her eyebrows lifted and her lips thinned.

“Well I guess now’s as good a time as any to introduce you to my boys, Gail.” Max gestured to the forestry. “You can come out now” he called.

The bushes shuffled, and one of the trees shook like something big was tossed  from it.

A flash of black and white quickly darted from the bushes and ran over to the blonde man and slapped his shoulder. This new man wore a black leather jacket that barely covered his fishnet shirt, and tight (and I mean tight) white jeans. His hair was floppy and from the looks of it probably smelled. He looked like he lived and breathed rock and roll and acted like it too.

The man, still laying on the ground, launched himself at this new intruder.

“YOU SON OF…!”

“That's enough, you two.” Max spoke heavily, with an air that demanded obedience.

Just as the two stopped and looked to Max, two more individuals emerged from the shrubs.

“How many of them are there?” Juniper mused. 

The two newcomers were dressed similarly. They both looked at the porch and surveyed us like we were a new exhibit at the zoo.

The shorter out of the last two had cropped, spiky hair. He wore a long trench coat that was so black that it made his hair look like straight moonlight. He also reeked of cigarettes and gin so strongly I could smell it from where I stood. His eyes were ocean blue, and he had a smirk on his face that any devil would envy.

The last one was the tallest out of the four of them. He had long dark brown hair and wore a striking earring that resembled an animal claw in his left ear. His face was made of sharp edges, he wore no shirt under his leather jacket beside two strands of beads that sashayed across his chiseled abdomen. He didn’t smile like the others, only observed us with an air of curiosity and a furrowed brow.

Max pointed to the curly haired boy, “this is Marko” the boy now known to us as Marko gave a mock bow to Abigail and then to us.

Juniper giggled, which earned a response from the rocker one who then bowed even lower to us and did a mocking hand gesture towards Marko.

Max rolled his eyes.

“The one acting like a fool is Paul.” 

“My favorite role to play, old man” Paul countered. Max moved on from Paul’s comment and looked at the one in the trench coat.

“This is David, my eldest” David gave a barely noticeable nod to Abigail.

“And lastly, this is Dwayne.” Dwayne gave no gesture to signify the introduction and seemed to just stare into oblivion.

“Now Gail, I wasn’t originally planning on bringing our little families together tonight, but if you wouldn’t mind, I would love an introduction to those heavenly beings that are up on the porch. I don’t mind sending the boys away either if you aren’t ready yet.”

“Don’t send us away!” Marko exclaimed

“Yeah, we  only just got here” Paul purred as he slivered over to the deck railing and leaned opposite of Juniper. “And I for one would love an introduction.” 

Juniper bent back a tad from Paul, as light pink tinted her cheeks. 

I took a hesitant step forward, and Mary stood from her seat. 

“I think we have had enough excitement for one night.” Mary stated. “Sun will be up soon, and i'm sure you all need time to travel back to where you came from”

That was Mary talk for “go back to the slimy hole you crawled out from you filth and don’t come back.”

Max gave Mary a look. One that told me that he wasn't used to being challenged. 

“What do you say, Gail? A quick introduction can’t hurt?”

Abigail, who at this moment seemed like she was in a trance staring up at Max, broke away and looked at us. 

“Oh, it wouldn't hurt at all! I’ve been so rude; I should have introduced them right when you got here.”

Abigail gestured towards the porch. 

“The one in front is Juniper. The one standing towards the back is Mary.” 

Mary scowled, tossed her long braid off her shoulder,  turned around, and walked inside the house. 

Abigail looked at Max.

“I'm sorry about her” she placed her hand on his chest. “she reached that age where she is just angry at everyone and everything. It's nothing personal.”  

I scoffed. Mary may be a frigid bitch sometimes, but this was definitely personal. 

Abigail looked back to me, either choosing to ignore my little outburst, or it just falling on deaf ears. 

“Oh, and  right here is Eliza.”

 Dwayne resurfaced then from wherever he went in his mind and  looked up at me.  His eyes were brown, but not the same shade as Marko’s. 

Marko’s eyes were brown with bursts of bright amber that reminded me of tiny volcanic explosions. 

Dwayne's eyes were deep, rich soil. I caught myself leaning forward slightly. He gave me a slight smirk. 

I averted my gaze, not trusting my ability to hold back a blush.

The porch door slammed open, and hit the adjacent wall hard. I winched, knowing that the mark it would leave on the shingles would be a fight later. 

Mary stormed past me in her mustard yellow jean jacket. She flew down the porch steps and continued on past Abigail, while simultaneously flipping Max the bird.  

Paul gaped at the action, and Marko smiled with glee. 

Mary hopped the hip-height, backyard fence, and landed on the sidewalk. 

Abigail, looked back at the porch noticing the doorknob shaped hole that was now present on the side of the house. Her eyes flashed yellow momentarily, and then she looked at me.

“Go with her, make sure she doesn’t get us into any trouble. You know how destructive she can be when she is in a mood like this. 

Max rolled his eyes “how destructive can a little thing like that be?”

Abigail's lips puckered “you’d be surprised.”

Abigail looked back to me again, “Go, now.”

I turned around quickly, and ran inside to grab my jacket. 

When I returned, the boys were gone and Abigail and Max were sitting side by side in the wicker loveseat by the small pond in the corner of the yard. The scene looked romantic, and if it were any other couple it would have filled me with happiness for them, but knowing Abigail's track record with men, I was hesitant, and nervous. 

I walked past them, offering Max a polite smile and giving Abigail a look that said I was going to try my best to wrangle Mary in.

I opened the back yard gate that led to the main road, and stepped onto the sidewalk. 

Immediately, the rumble of a motorcycle engine and the flash of a leather jacket appeared next to me. 

It was Dwayne.

He looked me up and down, slowly, in that very masculine way that guys do. 

I snorted.

I started to walk towards the boardwalk. He slowly followed along beside me. 

I looked over at him, and there was that stupid smirk again.

“Can I give you a ride?” His voice was deeper than I expected. 

I looked over, “I need the exercise.”

Now it was his turn to snort, “we're vampires, we don't need exercise.” His eyes sparked with playfulness. 

“I barely know you. Getting onto a motorcycle with a stranger doesn't sound like a good choice.”

“But walking two miles, in the dark, on a main road does?”

I paused, he had me there. I looked at the bike he was riding, the body was a deep cherry red, it looked to be scratch and dent free, which I guess is a good indicator that he doesn't get into a lot of accidents. 

I huffed.

He smirked, and stopped the bike, gesturing me to hop on.

I hesitated; I'd never been on a motorcycle before. He must have read my expression because he followed with

“Put your hand on my shoulder and throw your left leg over the back.” I followed by lifting my leg over the seat. “ Place your feet on those.” he pointed to two foot pegs on either side of the bike. “And then place your hands around my waist.” 

I slowly loped my arms around his waist, and loosely gripped his jacket. 

He leaned back so that his mouth was close to my ear, I jolted back quickly at the sudden closeness of his face to mine.

His lip twitched up, “you ready, mama?”

I could smell him more clearly now that we were pressed up against each other. Gasoline and salt hit me first, and then the undertone of spice from his cologne. 

“Yes” I managed to get out, once I pulled my gaze away from his. 

Chapter 2

[crmediagal]

Elucien 84

84. “Going somewhere?” by CRMediaGal

Lucien slunk towards the open archway, backing out of the cozy sitting room whilst spirits were high and the rowdy Inner Circle were distracted by their annual gift exchange...as well as their growing, collective inebriation. In his case, it was fairly easy to slip away unnoticed—or so it had been during all of the previous Solstice celebrations the Emissary had attended with this rather cold, indifferent group when it came to him.

After all, he didn't belong here. He never had.

But a beneficial friendship with the High Lady of the Night Court, no matter how estranged, saw the hopelessly infatuated male trying against hope (and his better judgement, he supposed) to bridge the tense gap between him and the High Lady's older sister, Elain.

She still happened to be his mate. And she still hadn't bothered to reject the bond.

At this point, Lucien hadn't a ruddy clue why. She barely looked at him when he did make an occasional appearance in Velaris, mostly out of obligation to Rhysand, the High Lord.

But also her.

Lucien had tried for three Solstices to get the Made Fae to so much as glance at him without open discomfort. Without curling in on herself as if his presence pained her. Without indicating through her repeated silences that he was exhausting his efforts.

And yet, here you are, he relented, jaw tightening as he forced his sad stare from his fetching mate, standing behind a couch across the room—as far away from him as possible, of course—and softly laughing with Nesta, Cassian and Mor.

Her family. Not his. Not ever.

What did you expect? That things would miraculously shift in your favor? Three pathetic years was enough of trying, surely?

Thus, a dismayed Lucien slipped out of the room and well before the festivities were over, with Elain's gift still stuffed in his side pocket. No point in embarrassing himself yet again...and watching her reluctantly accept his latest futile attempt to win her favor but without any of the joy he craved to receive.

Lucien headed for the foyer to collect his winter coat, determined to take a biting stroll through the snowy, winding streets of Velaris alone rather than spend another minute trapped in this stifling house where he remained a stranger. Getting your stupid, damned hopes up once more.

Lucien had just finished buttoning his burgundy and rust-colored plaid coat and was wrapping a thick scarf around his neck when a voice—her voice, hushed but sweet like honey—stopped him dead in his tracks. In spite of the toasty atmosphere, he shuddered.

"Going somewhere?"

He swiftly turned to discover Elain standing only feet from him. There was none of the glancing elsewhere in the room to avoid his gaze; or fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Her look was direct and focused, those beautifully soft brown eyes set against an abundance of golden curls that lovingly framed her face.

She was providing his attire careful consideration. And she was alone. Unaccompanied by either of her sisters to act as chaperons...or, more often than not, convenient buffers.

In slow motion Lucien lowered his hands to his side. "Yes, m'lady."

There was a thoughtful pause in which her regard swept over him from head to toe and back to head again. "Where to?" she eventually inquired, taking a notable step closer.

Lucien froze, dumbfounded. This was the most she had spoken to him since the Battle of Hybern...three years ago.

"My apartment," he answered rather stiffly, uncertain of what to make of this curious development. He dared not breathe incorrectly.

Elain angled her head, her bouncy curls drifting with that small bit of movement. "Then where?"

"To..." Lucien halted, his mechanical eye giving a sharp click.

Why should he tell her? Wouldn't she just run to inform her sister and the High Lord? Then again, he reckoned, let them be 'bothered' by any mention of their supposed enemy still residing in the ruined territory Feyre had long ago destroyed.

Lucien straightened his spine but revealed, "To Spring."

"Oh."

Odd. There was none of the disgust and disappointment Lucien had anticipated. Rather, Elain's expression remained entirely neutral.

"To visit your friend?"

Lucien shifted his feet and settled for placing his hands behind his back. "He's alone on Solstice."

"That's good of you to keep him company."

Lucien raised his eyebrows, earning a fleeting blush to Elain's fair cheeks. She was such a puzzle to piece together and no more so than at this very moment.

After more painful silence, however, Lucien could take no more. Her soulful eyes, her slightly parted, pink lips... Everything about Elain Archeron made Lucien's heart sore.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head, offering a quiet, "Happy Solstice," in parting.

There was no point in prolonging the awkwardness that was their—her—unfortunate predicament, especially since the female hadn't made any moves to change the situation. He grabbed a hold of the front door handle, intending to leave, when she suddenly shocked him by interrupting his departure.

"Wait."

When Lucien's head snapped towards her, he found her arm extended. To him. His heart thumped and he instinctively gripped the handle tighter.

"Please," she whispered and tread closer, his own reflection soon morphing in her doeful eyes. She had come so close that he could practically feel her breaths on his neck. "Would you... Would you reconsider...changing your plans?"

"'Changing my plans'?" Lucien found himself repeating, his own eyes narrowing in suspicion. And utter bafflement.

She gave an unhelpful nod and craned her neck up at him, offering a slim but thoughtful smile that nearly saw Lucien's heart stopping altogether. "Stay?" she stunned the male into silence by requesting. "For another day or two?"

Lucien blinked. Several times. The question escaped his trembling lips before his scrambled thoughts could grasp any scrap of understanding, "Why?"

It was an agonizing while before she finally spoke, though her eyes never drifted from his. "Because I don't want you to be a stranger, Lucien."

Her throat bobbed nervously. Then the warm encasing of her hand was curling around his arm, her fingers molding perfectly to the fine fabric of his coat. Her touch, even with his coat obstructing skin-on-skin contact, was soothing, peculiarly familiar. It felt like...home.

"I never did."

What the—

The unexpected gentle peck to his cheek was quick, shy, and purposeful. And the reactive shimmer that crossed Lucien's russet eye matched the newfound glow radiating from Elain's face.

"If it isn't too forward of me to ask, could your friend spare you for a few more days?"

Lucien searched Elain's soft features, still gobsmacked. He hardly trusted the sound of his own voice once he managed to hoarsely reply, "I...suppose so."

And just like that, Lucien found himself helplessly being drawn away from the front door and back down the hallway to rejoin the others, with a quietly strong-willed Elain now on his arm. Her gaze shifted away from him momentarily when they reentered the sitting room moments later arm-in-arm, but Lucien 's sidelong glance didn't miss the openly relieved, happy smile his mate wore for all to see.

'I don't want you to be a stranger, Lucien. I never did.'

Lucien chanced a shaky breath and fiddled with the gift that remained in his pocket. Maybe there was hope for them, after all.

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P8]

(Yandere × Reader)

Series link

[Warning: mentions of violence, mentions of sex, obsessive, comphet, inernalized misogyny, xenophobia]

A/N: hello. im back from work. Will b back to work. Mermen AU maybe? Thoughts on the male leads? Idk. Go at it.

Your reflection in the mirror stayed, stubborn and grey like concrete.

Lukas thought the dragonfly in his room was stuck flying into the corner, but the length it went through compelled him to walk closer and look. The sandy wind of the upcoming summer rain was relentless, blowing his hair across his face as he bent down and squint at the insect. It was dead, but its outstretched wings and slim body were thrashed about by the wind. The dry corpse was stuck in-flight, crumpled, hollow and rattling like TV static. Somehow queazy by the sight, he looked away to the grey sky and water across the palm-lined street.

Phuket was a dud with this heavy sky, but at least he went on the staff vacation for free.

Pacing in his room, he thought of what he could do. You were just in the next room sharing a villa with him, and the rest of the school staff were in the same area of the resort. Lukas didn't take any time to consider how much money this private institution could make in profits to afford this kind of vacation - he was used to nice things. Instead, he was stuck on you in the next room. He could hear you walking around to unpack your suitcase, hurried and silent. You never seemed to get off work-mode, even when alone and on vacation.

He wondered if he could ask you to check out the indoor pool near the garden resort. Not much else to do anyway. Still, he held back, unsure and hesitant, worried that you would say no. Ever since the dinner party you had been even more reserved than before.

Lukas wasn't stupid. He knew something happened between you and Sakamoto - he had always noticed the chemistry, and he wasn't so naive not to make the assumption when you left alone with the guy, drunk, reeking of cigarette smoke, hand on your stomach where you had taken a punch for him. He chewed on his nail recalling the sight.

That sucked.

He was territorial over women, sure, but this time he felt something new. Lukas couldn't find a name for it - deeper than jealousy, this feeling sat in his stomach, breeding a biting discomfort so persistent that he fantasized about violence. He wanted to do something bad to Sakamoto, something swift but straight to the point, like a crowbar to the back of his neck. But all the mess... all the crying you would do... Lukas just knew you would cry over this man, knees on the ground with your hands all over him trying to find his heartbeat. Now that he didn't want. Not to mention, murder wasn't one of the things he could get away with. Not in Japan.

He suspected you and Sakamoto wasn't a one-stop hookup, either. He knew it wasn't like himself to look, but he could see that subtle look Sakamoto landed on you every time he asked you for lunch, and the hitch in your breath as you agreed. Hell, your fingers once decisive and quick now would fumble as you tried to grab onto your lunchbox.

He hated that.

Falling onto the white bedsheet still in his airport clothes, Lukas left his arm outstretched. The blank TV screen pointed at him, reflecting his body sprawled and defeated. He tossed to lie on his side, the smell of his own sweat mingling with the fresh sheet. From outside the sliding glass door he had kept open, he saw grey waves foaming as they piled onto one another before hitting the sand. The palm, tormented by the wind now howling between the nooks and cranies of the resort, twisted their green leaves, their body swaying gently. He sighed. There really wasn't anything to do.

Feeling a little pathetic and a lot desperate, he considered knocking on your door anyway. What could happen, really? He could simply ask for your company for the afternoon - maybe checking out some indoor services. For the night, he already decided on getting tanked no matter what, but he needed you during the daytime when his mind couldn't cease its racing.

Please.

____

Sasaki Aya is not too thrilled about the vacation, but she went and dressed up nice regardless. She didn't care for the weather or the resort, much less the food and rowdy coworkers who were looking to unleash their stress after the school year. Stupid, she thought, her face scrunching up, sour thoughts plaguing her as she thought of the mentions of trying out local prostitution from some weird dudes in the HR team. Looking at herself in the wide bathroom mirror, she saw Tahara who came in with her packs of travel-sized cosmetic.

She felt sorry for Tahara sometimes. The woman was old and wry when she got off work-mode. Aya thought that her deep smile lines and crow feet were pitiful, as were the wrinkles across her forehead. Her short, undyed black hair was put in a pixie cut, neat but unfashionable, but then again, that was at least better than if she had held onto the long hair look. Aya hated that - long wavy hair on older women... it made them look desperate for the men.

Compared to Tahara, Aya thought of herself as cute. Much younger and stylish, she was rocking chestnut dye and a modest, sleeveless long olive dress and a paper-thin cardigan. She knew how she looked - youthful and bright, with dimple that commanded attention when she smiled. Aya knew it all how much the men around her liked her - they liked how young she appeared, and they liked it better when she spoke it a candied cadence, eyes big and mouth hung open when she acted impressed by the things they talked about.

Dumbass motherfuckers.

She had tried some of them, but nothing quite worked out. They were always rough and painful, desperate to please themselves when they got atop of her. They didn't mind her blank eyes and the twist at the edge of her mouth when they asked if she felt good. They all looked stupid when they did it, too. Sometimes, she thought about the girls she knew, and if she closed her eyes for a moment she could almost fathom enjoying sex. But that was brief. She opened her eyes to a man anyway, and whatever pleasure she planned to imagine washed away like water on a lily leaf.

She kept them around her, though, because it paid off being liked by them. The length they would go through to be near a pretty girl... restless merchants willing to accept smiles and nods as currency. She could use the jewelry they traded.

"Don't mind me", Tahara said as she shuffled off, her depressing brown pajamas stained from her wet hair, "You can go around and hang out. I won't be doing much. Plus, I'm a tight sleeper, so don't worry about going out late."

Aya titled her head, checking if her makeup was okay. She felt silly getting all done up with nowhere to go, what with the humid air warning her of a hard shower. Crossing her arms, she stared deep into her eyes and imagined herself getting old. Like Tahara. Maybe. Once she must had been young just like herself, Aya thought, and after all, even though she was unfashionable, she wasn't a bad looking woman. She just looked so tired all the time outside of work, but it was clear from her round eyes and subtly charming lips that she used to be pretty.

"Well... I think I'll hang out with the girls from the recreation dept", she said, turning around. Tahara was on the phone, seated against the neat pile of pillow they hadn't deconstructed, resting on the tightly tucked sheet.

"That's good. They are asking for you in the group chat."

Aya hummed, studying Tahara closer. She looked bored. She always looked bored when she didn't work.

"If you don't mind, what is their villa number, Mrs. Tahara?"

"They said it's 216."

Aya nodded, feeling a slight tug of annoyance at how Tahara did not look up from the phone. She picked at her own sleeves, wondering what weird feeling she had looking at Tahara like that.

"I will see you at dinner, then?"

Tahara nodded.

"Yes, of course."

Whatever. Aya rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag.

"Have a good time", she heard Tahara's voice over her shoulder. She was tempted to not reply as she slipped on her shoes, but then decided to say "thank you, you as well".

__

You knocked on Lukas' door and heard hurried shuffling. The door swung open hard, and a gush of air hit you in the face as he leaned halfway out, his face almost hitting yours before he caught himself and pulled back like a jack-in-the-box.

"Hello?"

He sounded confused, big green eyes wide, mouth left agape. You now got a better look at him to see that amidst the faded freckles he had a mole on his nose. Strange... how you never thought to look at those things from him before. Must be because you were stressed.

"Hi... just wondering if you wanna go to the restaurant together. It's almost time, and we shouldn't keep our coworkers waiting."

Confused, he took a look at his watch.

"But it's not until... another 20 minutes."

"That's just how it is."

You didn't want to explain further. Truth was, you almost left without him, but you would feel bad to not let him in on these small social cues. After all, nobody told him. You took notes of his clothes - shoes, khaki shorts and a nice blue button down (a style he sure loved, unsurprisingly)... he seemed dressed for it, and from the way he smelled, he had even taken the time to put on cologne.

You had expected from the puzzled look on his face that he would have argued against going early, but to your surprise he just listened. "Yeah, sure, of course", he said and stepped out, closing the door behind him quickly as if to hide something inside. You didn't ask. You didn't really care.

"Are we walking there?" - he asked, lagging behind you as you turned and walked away.

"No... I already ordered the electric bus", you said, gesturing at the green vehicle parked down the road, "We will be there in a couple minutes."

You knew you were being cold and distant. You were afraid if he looked too close, you would spill like an overflowing sink. Your phone was restlessly buzzing, you could tell he noticed, but you didn't look. You knew what you would see - rows of texts from your younger brother who had something to say about the money you refused to send. Your brother had a bad habit of lashing out when he didn't get what he wanted. The last text you saw, just before you knocked on Lukas' door, was something about your desertion. You didn't want to recall it word by word - it was exhausting. You decided to focus on the moment instead, which was unfortunate, because your current moment involved Lukas.

Lukas seemed shy and soft-spoken, way different than the horndog freshface you met a couple weeks ago. The man tailed after you, kept his distant on the seat, and stood waiting for you to get off the vehicle at the restaurant. He did not say anything, but that couldn't hide his gaze on you. You decided to not think about why - at least, his embarrassing attempt at woo-ing had quieted down. If all he wanted to do was look, he could have a field day.

As you walked with each other into the restaurant filled with chatters, you noticed the silence. He wasn't so keen on small talks anymore. Instead, he was awkwardly looking around to find the table, but it didn't take you long. "I think they're over there in that private lounge", you turned to him, "I just saw Ms. Sasaki coming in there."

You saw the unsubtle flinch Lukas made when you faced him so suddenly.

"Okay", he nodded, his eyes fixed on your face. You wondered if he looked expectant, as if waiting for something else from you.

___

Yuki didn't like the way Lukas looked at you. It was obvious that you would sit near him by orders of the language barrier, yet Yuki could not kill the bubbling uneasiness that only got worse as the dinner progressed. Something about Lukas never ceased to put him off - the initial arrogance, the sudden switch-up into reservation, and the strange, starved look when you brushed with violence... it all seemed inorganic. Yuki found Lukas to be hiding something intense under all of his faces, something with gnashing teeth that yearned to rip at your edges.

Yuki tried to look the other way, but other people's faces couldn't compel him for long. His eyes found their ways back to you. You sat quiet, eyes upon the dark sea now thrashing and foaming under the rain. Near you Lukas sat, desperation barely contained in his eyes deep and green.

"What are you looking at there, Sakamoto?"

Snapping out of it, Yuki turned back to Tahara who meaningfully smiled. He shrunk, making notes to not sit with her another time. At least he could make peace with the distance Hanao had kept from him by sitting at the far end of the table.

"Just the sea, ma'am..."

"It's no better than Japanese seaside, I reckon."

He awkwardly took a sip of his cocktail.

"I think it is quite nice."

"As a change of pace, I'm sure."

Yuki felt his fingers fiddling with the glass when he placed it down.

"It's freeing."

"It is. Young people like their vacations."

His stomach dropped. Yuki glanced at the woman who did not bat an eye. She wasn't even looking at him, just stared far off somewhere into the dark ocean through the glass window.

"Do you remember last year's earthquake, Sakamoto?" - she continued, refusing him a way out.

"Yes..."

"You were quick to get under that table. You knew what to do."

He laughed dryly, his head hanging now.

"What would you do in a wildfire, I wonder..."

Yuki couldn't find an answer to that. After dinner that night, he did not come find you.

[wanderingskylooker]

Good time of day❤️

I think there are women living on Gunpowder Island, but they don't visit the port areas. I want to know your headcanons on this.

I also want to say that I really love your work.

Gunpowder inhabitants (Super 4: Headcanon)

Thank you! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I, personally, am absolutely sure there must be more people living in Gunpowder Island.

(Ep: Special Invaders)

Look how small the port is compared to the rest of the island! Plus, we know they can enter inside the volcano caves (and it is just me, or those caves look like wagon caves and mine tracks?).

Actually, I am not sure where the other settlement could be located, because it was simply not designed, but I have two options about the Gunpowder population growth, in which I am more fond of the first than of the second.

As you said, women don't live in the port, just for the same reason they cannot be pirates, because males don't want them to. I prefer to think that Gunpowder can function on its own. Of course, they interact with the other worlds, especially by stealing, but they don't depend on them as much as my other option thinks, which is...

Pirates come from other worlds. It's a stupid headcanon which can be smashed in many ways, but taking into account the solid-as-air consistency of the show, I guess I could mention it.

This theory (I invented it, but seriously, it is really-really bad) says that pirates come from the rest of the worlds, except the Enchanted Island and the Lost World, as long as each world is surrounded by water, they could just throw away their outcasts or unwanted babies (like Ruby) to the sea. Some of them reached the Gunpowder Island alive and made it their shelter.

The theory is nonsense, because, first, the pirates do not have the slightest resemblance to the other worlds; the knights get lost in the Enchanted Island, technopolians simply don't get lost, the fairies don't leave the Enchanted Island almost never, and they can either be from the Enchanted Island in anyway, like witches, because pirates have no-magic (no, Ruby is not a fairy). Oh, and unless they evolved extremely fast from apes, they don't look like they're from The Lost World either. Secondly, if they came from other worlds, they should have brought their culture, but the pirates have a whole culture of themselves, their own recipes, clothing, slang...

And lastly (probably there are much more, but I think those are enough), in the episode Bubble Trouble, it is shown to us that each world has their own mental vibration, which is not only biological, but also territorial, the pirates sail away from Gunpowder when the Sykronians try to hypnotize them, so they are from there.

Going back to the good headcanon.

In many old societies, women can be even more sexist than men, going against their own freedom, so maybe the Gunpowder women are the "first line" of pressure of lady behavior. At the same time, from Sharkbeard threats of what would happen if Ruby wins (Ep: Sharkruby), we can guess that they humiliate (or at least emotionally blackmail) the women who look for freedom, but also other men who try to treat women equally, not so much out of fear of washing dishes, but of being reduced to "not manly." What I am almost sure of, and gives me a little explanation of the lack of visibility of women in Gunpowder Island, is that women are almost always inside. That's kind of obvious, but I think the rest of the inhabitants who are not the pirates are worse than them. The pirates insult Ruby, but don't seem to care enough to really punish her, and we can guess she was out of the tavern when she was a child (she knows how to swim). The pirates we see know what women are supposed to be (in their society) but I doubt they actually have met one.

Honestly, I don't know how the other settlements could look like, so I have no headcanons here (maybe small houses scattered among the trees, because with isolated families they cannot organize and reveal themselves against the pirates).

Completely off topic, just a wish I had and the pirates topic gave me a good excuse to say it.

As long as the development team of Super 4 likes Disney, I would have loved a Treasure Planet reference. Ruby as Jim, surrounded by starts at night, below, reflected in the ocean, and above, shining in the sky, as if the entire galaxy surrounded her ship. Sorry, I love that film.

[twistedmafiaau]

"Did you hear about the...?" A voice whispers in the interview room. several bloggers and reporters had shown up early. The room was quiet as they gathered to try to find the truth before the families appeared and they had to do their jobs.

Amaris (better known as Mort to her readers and lurkers), had been attacked.

"In Kingscholar territory? Who was stupid enough to do dirty business there?" Another adds as they pull up the news story for everyone to read.

"No one knows. The police aren't releasing her case details saying it's fragile. It's an open investigation." A reporter says adjusting his glasses.

"Heard they only now are taking her statements seriously about those shadows she talked about. Who knew It's getting dark(er) out there was a call for help."

"It's all over her other blog actually. You just have to read between the lines." Another whispers softly not wanting to get Amaris in more trouble. 'I'm running out of lives' 'Death follows me.' She wasn't subtle at all yet no one caught it."

"I'm curious how she got away alive." A female shivers clutching her arms.

"The public record says she's been reporting sightings since her first week interviewing. Stalking is the listed complaint." Another says clicking on some links on their phone scanning for any clue as to who had the balls to go after the spit fire blogger with a bleeding heart. Certainly not tupé man.

"Can you all stop. Miss Brighton wouldn't take kindly to you all commenting on her life. She's been through enough." A short woman says swallowing some as she stood among the chairs. Her baby pink floral blouse in stark contrast to the rooms dark colors. She was shaking a bit not ready to be the temporary point for a family and her teachers blogging entries for the paper. She had already missed last week's with the chaos. She hoped Amaris would somehow manage to upload from wherever she was being hidden. Something about police safety after they found blood on the walls. Maybe that's what made her snap at the tupé reporter who was screwing with her image and the Kingscholar families for clout. She had warned the man several times over the past few weeks to stop or she would raise hell.

"She's a blogger who knew what she was getting into intern. Sit down and shut up." A male says and the intern does so neverously. "Can't believe she gave you the Kingscholar's."

"It's just till she gets reviewed...."

"She's gonna get fired for what she did."

"She didn't do anything!" The intern stands infuriated as the Mafia come out, her back to them. "Miss Brighton is an amazing woman who works harder than anyone for her work and those she interviews. Yes she has a temper but that's what gives her the nerve that no one else has the guts to do and write as she does. How would you react if someone decided to stalk you and send you packages and write about your past on the walls! She's strong, reliable and damn good at keeping everything in line under pressure. It's what makes her perfect for the job. That sleezy reporter wouldn't stop with his lies so she did something to make him. Is it a crime to defend yourself against slader? To defend your honor? He outranked her what else was she to do? Let him upload ai obscenities onto the internet?! I saw what he was going to publish and sell! It was disgusting! She isn't stupid nor does she strike unless provoked. She was defending her body!"

The other's eyes widen and point behind her rapidly.

"I think your up first to ask questions intern." One whispers pointing behind her and the poor intern freezes up. "Good luck."

She turns slowly shaking a bit as she notices all the mafia. She'd never been out of the office, the blogger, Miss Brighton, she adored as a teacher always telling her tales of the energy and presence these men gave off, teaching her gently over coffee how to read someones intention. Warning her to always be careful when talking with powerful people and never let them see you squirm, but now that she was there...

She swallows and looks down at her tablet. At the notes her teacher, her friend, had left her with. She could do this despite how her legs shook in her pink heels with butterflies on the toe. She had the script Amaris had sent hours before their boss had removed her, pending in purgatory.

"Good afternoon gentleman." She reads off the screen. "The two questions are simple this week, and are, as always, for the Kingscholar family." She looks up at them to gauge them, clearly new to this whole process. Her brown eyes flick back to the screen trying to get comfortable being stared at by mafia. How her teacher did it she didn't know, nerves of steel probably. "This week I wish to know what job you would have if you weren't a Mafia member? I have my ideas as always, but I'm curious for the truth instead of speculation unlike some gossip rags." She blinks a bit amused by her teachers sass and cheekiness with them. "My second question is for each of you to answer or not. Are you more dominant or submissive, in bed? And not alone for those who need the details to answer."

The intern, being as brave as her legs could stand waited. A fancy pen in hand to write on the tablet.

Mort had thought of everything it seemed. Even locked away under protection a prison cell to her no doubt she was here. Asking questions through another she trusted to carry on while she fought to get her life, her home and her job back.

All the families stood before the audience, faces neutral and gazes solemn, watching every single journalist, cameraman, photographer and blogger like a jury ready to proclaim each and one of them guilty of some unspeakable crime.

A person walked on the stage, marching with a slow grace in front of the most powerful and dangerous men this city had the displeasure to host; none of them spoke in that person’s presence, almost as if in their small frame they held more power than any family combined.

Short stature, short haircut the color of the night, pale porcelain skin, face features and body shape so androgynous it made impossible the feat to determine whether they were female or male. They walked in front of every single family member like they owned the place, like they were the boss of every single one of them.

Dark eyes seemed to swallow the audience whole as they turned around to face that night’s interviewers, a smile so polite as eerie drawn on those thin lips.

“Evening to you all, ladies and gentlemen. — they spoke, their voice quiet yet thundering — I offer my humble apologies about what unfolded the week prior, I’m sure it left a horrid taste in everyone’s mouth. I would like to inform you all that, despite the culprits have yet to be identified and restrained, we have increased security along the perimeter of the whole structure, therefore there shouldn’t happen more inconveniences that would disrupt tonight’s session.” 

They expressed each syllable with the most calculated precision, almost as if they weren’t human at all.

The polite smile slipped off slowly, ominously, dark eyes seizing every involuntary twitch, every breath hitching, every goosebump forming on the skin, like a shark studying its prey with unnerving patience before pouncing.

“Before leaving you all to your chatter and drama and lovesick delusions, I’d like to point out something for the kind gentleman in the third row from the left.” and pointed with their gaze the man who talked about the audacity in another’s turf. You could see the man shrinking in his seat, fear mixed with shame. “This, my dear sir, is no man’s land. It’s a neutral territory where everyone is expected to at least be civil enough to not shoot, stab or physically arm others. Believe me when I say that the ones responsible for such actions will receive the punishment they deserve. With that said I may now take my leave. I hope you all pass an intriguing night.”

They gave a small bow out of politeness, leaving the room as silently as the shadow they were; not even their footsteps nor the closing of the heavy emergency exit door could be heard when they left, the only indicator of their absence was the sudden disappearance of tension, that hung heavily up until that point, as if it followed that person specifically.

All the families took their respective seats, some of them taking deep breaths like they’ve been underwater far too long.

The interview started and proceeded like nothing had happened. It had happened however, you still had cold shivers running through your whole body as proof — Amaris was right, the mafia is scary but that person was even scarier than all of them. You were sure Amaris would have a field day trying to read their cryptic body language.

Your eyes remained trained to the Kingscholar family like you’ve been instructed to do, to Leona in particular that, that individual evening was behaving especially extra, acting flattered when one of the female interviewers asked him out so blatantly.

When you finished reading the questions written by your mentor and friend you slumped back in your seat to control the trembling of your legs as the stares of three mafia men were studying you. Two words rang through your head like a mantra: fresh meat.

They were looking at you like prey.

Another pair of eyes also caught your attention. Two mismatched eyes, one a dark zircon the other a bright citrine, belonging to none other than Jade Leech, watching you with a mix of amusement and endearing. You preferred not concentrating too much on his gaze.

“Well, it seems like we have a new face in the crowd this evening.” commented Leona, smirking. “I suppose it’s understandable, it’s never easy being the center of attention. Unwanted attention to be precise.”

Just by the way he said that last phrase you were sure he would’ve easily snapped someone’s neck with his bare hands, that much he was pissed.

Ruggie’s giggle broke the tension, snickering at you and the way you looked like a fish out of water while reading and waiting for answers delegated to you. “Our spitfire of a lady sure gives no damn about being unfiltered, uh? I kinda feel sorry for you, gal.” he said jokingly.

“Anyway, to answer that question I would’ve loved being a photographer if I wasn’t dragged around by the collar like some pup by Mr.Laziness over here. — Leona simply rolled his eyes to the ceiling, having heard that complaint countless times by now — I know, I know, being any type of artist fresh out of school doesn't bring any bread to the table. That’s the kind of truth any artist has to face I’m afraid, and exposure doesn't pay the bills.”

You saw with the corner of your eyes Rook Hunt, from the fancy and incredibly popular Shonenheit family, placing a hand to his heart like he had been struck.

“Still, I’m not fit to sit at a desk, tapping soullessly on a keyboard for eight hours straight. I love freedom. Uncontaminated spaces, boundless skies, wild nature, streets full of life and people, foreign cultures and exotic dishes... a life lived traveling the world, seeing and learning, rather than merely observing from a computer screen or a postcard. Ain’t that quite a dream to live?”

From a few seats of distance the boss of the Al-Asim family started clapping like the answer given had inspired him and moved him to tears, as if that was some sort of motivational speech.

“Now it explains why you still have that old polaroid camera in your room…” murmured Jack, “You should give it a good makeover, though, it looks rather old.”

“It’s called vintage, thank you very much!” 

So this was the usual banter Amaris was used to. You had to admit it was rather funny and cute seeing them bickering like little siblings that didn’t want to divide that one cookie left in the jar. Leona interrupted the childish banter like a mother would have. “Children, children. As much as your bickering is amusing, we wouldn't want to give such an image of ourselves to our new guest, would we?”

The two of them sat in their respective chairs, Ruggie sulking and Jack crossing his arms annoyedly. 

Only when his boss signaled him with his hand that it was his turn to speak he relaxed his pose, even if slightly, pondering carefully his answer.

“A personal trainer perhaps, maybe a coach for a youth team. For someone to start working out can be two different experiences: those who just want to be fit and those that have an ulterior motive to start hitting the gym. Either way, seeing someone who’s more expert, has a better fitting body or knows his way with exercises and machineries can get a little…hurtful to one’s self esteem. I believe some people need a little encouragement, a push, to be able to give their all. Having someone cheer you on and compliment your achievements or perfect some loose points where you might be mistaken is something many people take for granted, especially with young ones attempting a sport. Some people treat them like Olympic athletes, training them like pros and forgetting that they’re still kids. What they need to be taught is that they’re not in some kind of life competition, they’re playing a game, and in every game someone wins and someone loses. They gave their all and a silver medal is not a loss, that’s what it should matter to them.”

You had the feeling he would've been an amazing coach, loved by many children and some moms too, had life not assigned him to a job full of corpses and guns and turf wars. Such a shame.

Everyone’s attention shifted to Leona, waiting with an odd trepidation what he would respond. Had life not assigned him to lead an organisation of wild beasts what would he’ve become? With a genius mind and a charming savoir faire like his he had only the spoiled for choice.

He shook his head lightly, tutting like he was somewhat disappointed. “I fear my answer is not only boring but also predictable. Leader is the only choice I was given in terms of career paths, anything else would be beneath me. — for a moment you swore you’d seen a hint of sadness flashing through his emerald eyes but weren’t absolutely convinced — I was taught how to dress and how to speak to influent people before I even knew the rules of chess. Managing land, affairs and people is the only reason why I was brought into this world.”

Sad… yet ominous — that was the thought bouncing off the walls of our brain, the reason, however, still evaded your hands.

The second question echoed in the loud silence of the conference room — though less silent than when that person with menacing black eyes made their entrance. Thinking about their imposing presence, although paired with such a fragile figure, made you shiver in terror. You were sure even Amaris would be frightened by such a presence.

You gave yourself a pinch on the hand to regain focus — answers first, fear later.

The three men were still silent, a quiet childish battle of who would answer first happening between them. 

The silence was broken by Ruggie once more — though he didn't exactly speak. He just shook his head slowly, azure eyes never leaving your figure, lips tucked in a strange smile — one that seemed to say "that's a no from me, dawg".

“I prefer that people continue to fantasize about it, 'cause this one ain't leaving my mouth. Sorry, not sorry, sweetheart, but I'll take this one to the grave.” he deadpanned.

“You're such a drama queen.” commented Jack, earning a spiteful and precisely spelled “no comment.” in response.

The attention shifted to Jack, his cheeks going cadmium red in the blink of an eye. He picked the glass of water provided by the staff and gulped it down in one go as if it was a shot of the strongest alcohol on the market.

“It takes great care and control to take from someone, but it takes even greater bravery to give that someone the reins of one's pleasure! Neither of them should be the subject of mockery, instead both of them should be praised!” he blurted out, voice booming through the whole room. Even Leona had to cover his ears, otherwise risking deafness due to the high volume.

Once he realized he was yelling, Jack's voice lowered significantly, reaching the level of a quiet embarrassed whisper. “That's as far as I'm willing to explain…”   

After a minute of silence — where half the audience had to wait for the buzz to leave their ears, it was the King's turn once more.

Leona himself blinked a few times before regaining his composure. The smirk on his face grew larger, and you always question the reason why your teacher despised it so much.

“Seems like our reporter still has a long way to go before she can read the signs. That or she's hard of hearing.”

Ah. That's why.

“Anyway, although in bed I'm willing to loosen up a little the leash for my partner, I'm still the one in control. That's the only way it was engraved in my body, mind and spirit, I fear. My answer is dominant, if that wasn't obvious enough.” he said, answering with a few well selected sentences.

“Also, tell your friend to be on her guard around officer Bellamy. — he whispered — That guy needs more than a simple no to get the hint. And by what I know he's not her type.”

That one person with black eyes was right, the interview concluded without any hiccups — no blackouts, no gravely injured guests…

You were checking your notes as you walked out of the conference room, ready to give every single sentence to your teacher and go back to permanently sit at a desk for the rest of your life, so much as to not ever cross eyes with the mafia again.

As you finished elaborating your thought someone tapped you on the shoulder gently yet firmly. Your eyes met with light amethyst ones, hair of a pearly white and the dominant colors of a very well known green and black. The Diasomnia family.

“Pardon me miss,” he said politely, curving his spine to reach your height and handing you a small, fine written card. “Would you be so kind to give this formal invitation for a tea to the one you represented tonight? If so, you would have my deepest gratitude.”

He bowed and disappeared like a gust of gentle wind. You looked back at the invite.

Amaris was going to be very much annoyed.

✠ Back to Bullettin Board

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[dead-sirens]

TWD Poly AU part 4

(Daryl x Fem!Reader x Shane)

This is for the three people that like my posts and then unlike them, thank you, you make me happy and a little anxious but mostly excited that someone is reading this

Shane starts to see you more often, to just be around you whenever he can, not really invassive, just some small talk and compliments to you

Like he is testing the waters before making another risky move, and you think it's ridiculous that he is still trying to make a move when you've been clear that you're with Daryl

He approaches you on the field when you're checking the crops alone "What is a girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?"

And you actually laughed at the cheesy line, "Really, Shane? I can take care of myself"

"I know, sweetheart, that's what I like about you, you're... something else" He laughed too, walking towards you

"That's it? You wanted to tell me I'm something else?" you look at him curious to see his reaction "You know I'm with Daryl"

"Well you haven't made if official yet..." Shane gives you one of those easy smiles that may have worked on you if you were single but you weren't so it didn't have the effect he wanted "I didn't know he already claimed you."

"I'm not something you can claim, I know what I want, and right now it's not you, sweetheart" He put his hand on his chest, making a painful gesture with his face, but before he could say anything else Daryl appeared behind him.

"Is everything alright?" Daryl asked you directly, trying to read the situation, a little amused by how you treated the other man

"Yeah, darling, Shane was just leaving" Shane understood the message and left without making a scene, accepting his defeat for the day, leaving you two alone.

"You really are something else" Daryl said, mocking Shane's words, maiking you laugh again "I didn't know if it was better to intervene or to let you handle him, you put him in his place, girl"

He was a having a little too much fun with the whole situation, he actually enjoyed seeing you turn Shane down, he liked seeing you hold the power of the situation and knowing you'd choose him

As I've said before, Daryl isn't jealous, at least not in a toxic way, he can be possesive, a little territorial maybe, he likes to protect you, he LOVES that you are his, but he isn't the kind of man that will snap at you for having male friends, or that will forbid you to talk with other men, he knows you want to be his, that you choose to be with him, and that is all he needs.

He has insecurities tho, that might look like jealousy if you don't know him, because he feels like he isn't enough, so he gets grumpy when other people make you laugh (for example), mostly because he thinks you'd be happier with someone else other than him

This obviously is not true, you enjoy being with Daryl, you had a massive crush on him since the beggining, and maybe he isn't very talkative or open with his feelings, but you didn't need words to understand him, you knew what he felt for you and that was enough

You loved spending time with him, joining him on hunts, or letting him help you out around the farm, you treasured every moment you had with him

But sometimes he didn't seem to realize it

And he decided it was time to do something about it, he told you he'd understand if you wanted to be with someone else, that didn't mean he wasn't gonna make an effort to be good enough for you, better for you, deserving of being someone that you'd pick over everyone else

Even if that meant to swallow his pride and do stupid romantic stuff for you, the thing is... he isn't an expert on that field, so he needed help, but who? he wasn't going to bare his most vulnerable self just to anyone, everyone in the farm would just make fun of him, right?

So he just tried to approach someone he knew would help out without judging him: Glenn.

Sure he was probably going to make jokes about it but Daryl knew he could trust the guy, he had proven to be a nice kid and he was your best friend so he would know what you'd like

Glenn was just minding his own business when Daryl spoke to him "Kid, you know what kind of man she likes?" And the boy was actually confused because, what kind of man? dude she likes the kind of man that eats squirrels and acts like a feral animal when stressed, wasn't it obvious?

"What do you mean, Daryl?" still he didn't want to be rude to his best friend's boyfriend "She likes you, I told you."

It is funny how you can see in Daryl's eyes when he gets frustrated, even if he doesn't say it out loud "No, I mean..." the sentimental stuff was a little hard on him "I'm not like Shane, you know?"

"I think that's what she likes about you, man" Glenn was trying his hardest to not burst out laughing

"Shut up, kid" the man had to actually take a moment and try to be clear without being totally embarrassed "Maybe she'd like it better if I was more like that, if I told her nice things all the time..."

"Oh, you want to be romantic?"

"SHUT UP"

And Glenn explained to Daryl he didn't need to be like Shane or anyone else to be romantic, he just needed to find a way to express his feelings that felt natural to him

It was a long talk because Daryl was romantic, he just didn't see it that way, he always found cute gifts for you, but he thought they weren't enough "Just old trinkets I found", and he does things for you all the time, but he thought that was just normal and not special because "I like to help her out"

He just thought you deserved something special, something unique, that would make you feel loved because you made him feel that way

Daryl spent the next few days making a special gift for you: a rustic necklace with a wooden charm he carved himself: a little leaf. He actually made a ton of different charms until he made one that he was happy enough with

And you almost cried when he gave it to you and explained that he wanted to do something special for you

"Why are you crying, its too ugly?"

"IT'S NOT UGLY I LOVE IT"

Meanwhile Shane is dealing with a new interest, he started to realize he actually liked you, not just the chase or the thrill of the situation, he spent enough time around you to know you a little better, and he liked it

He wasn't some teenager experiencing his first love, he was a grown man who knew the rules of the game, he knew you had something with Daryl but he was okay with being the bad guy if you decided to be with him

He was well aware of the possible consequenses if he kept messing with your relationship and he accepted them, he wasn't gonna stop, you were worth it all

But he wasn't gonna be a cheater, there needed to be some limits in the whole thing, and he decided it was better to make his intentions clear to avoid any future misunderstandings or innecesary fights

So he talked to Daryl about it, all the cards on the table "I like her too, man" is all he said at first, expecting a reaction but the hunter didn't give him one "I know she is with you, and she likes you, but I ain't playing, it's real"

"You feel something for her?" Daryl was serious, a little shocked by the confrontation "You like her for real?"

"Yeah, man, I am really interested in her, but I ain't gonna steal her or anything" Shane tried to explain his intentions without it sounding so bad "I'm not gonna stop trying to make her choose me, but I'm not gonna force her to do anything, either, I want her to want me"

Daryl just stood there, processing the information "Why are you telling me?"

"If she chooses you and make it official I'll leave you two alone" Shane had a straight face the whole time, he was dead-serious about it "But if she chooses me, I want you to aknowledge it and leave us be, yeah?"

"I won't force her to be with me, she's with me because she wants to, man" Daryl was almost offended by the insinuation "When she decides I'm not longer what she wants, I'll respect it."

But Daryl knew you wouldn't leave him, he's seen it before, even if Shane wanted to play some silly game and test the waters, Daryl knew you'd go back to him, always

OMG this took me way too long because, again, I want the flirty dynamic bu idk how to transition smoothly from evil!shane to cute!shane send help

[lovemyromance]

Let's talk about the dreaded pliant bones argument in ACOTAR

First of all, I don't ever want to see this stupid argument anywhere, especially after HOFAS. Second of all, none of the Archeron sisters are Illyrian so they do not have Illyrian anatomy suitable for childbirth. And yet, we see Feysand and Nessian as mates. So it's not like SJM even cared about that herself.

Then ACOSF happens, and oh no, c-sections don't apparently seem to exist and it becomes a BIG DEAL™ that Nesta changed only her own body and Feyre's body to have Illyrian anatomy.

People have been latching onto this argument like Rose on the goddamn Titanic, anything to cling to their sinking ship.

Let's not forget that Elain & Nesta had their bodies changed already once before, against their will. Why the hell would Nesta change Elain's body without obtaining consent after that traumatic experience? That would be a gross violation of bodily autonomy.

And Nesta was shown how to change the bodies. Which could hint that she still knows how, should a similar situation arise again.

But none of that even matters! What matter is that it's 2024 and we are still saying a woman can't be with the man she loves because she can't give him biological children. That is the crux of the argument Gw*nriels always try to skip around and say without saying. Like "oh no!! She can't have his babies!! Ship sank. It's over. The End."

As if a woman should be reduced down to her ability to procreate. This is not the middle ages people! Wake up!

Also, not to mention, even if we use that disgusting logic - The only other female in this series that is mentioned to have Illyrian anatomy is Emerie. Are we shipping Azriel with Emerie now? Because she can FOR SURE have his babies, if that's all that matters. Who cares about her own desires and personality and sexual preferences if she can have illyrian kids??

Now let's consider what people have been latching onto:

Gwyn...is flexible and adapts to training moves quickly. That's why Nesta commented she had "pliant bones", that's IT. She is part nymph and "has different anatomy than high fae", sure, but is that anatomy in any way, Illyrian? Water nymphs don't have Illyrian leathery wings either so I don't understand why insisting Gwyn has "pliant bones" is in any way endgame ship material. Why would her half-water nymph heritage give her the anatomy to birth a full grown illyrian-winged baby??

And then there's the cowards that use this argument by hiding behind SJM herself by saying "Well, I hate it too, but SJM is *kinda* known for writing like this and her characters are all male-dominated, fae-territorial blah blah, she is *kinda* hinting at endgame because the womb thing–" NO. No.

Don't hide. Tell the room exactly what you are saying. Which is the exact same misogynistic spiel as above, where you try to use gross medieval logic to justify your mf fictional ship, but you hide your faces when you say it. Because you know it's wrong, but you're still not above using that as "evidence" in your ship's favor.

I've even said before, I don't care what SJM says. If I don't like a misogynistic take, I am not using that as evidence in any capacity for any reason.

I'm not even being biased by my preferred ship. I genuinely just want people to stop using this argument because it's hurtful to women as a whole. Ship wars are fine, but ffs, when did we get to the point where we are pitting two women against each other based on whose uterus is more suitable??

And before you even say "I just have a problem because I ship Elriel" No. No.

It's about these kinds of cheap arguments in general. I have also never been one to go off saying how Gwyn can't be a valid love interest because her past SA trauma - That argument is also archaic and hurtful. I've never once used it. I don't like seeing it.

Can we just - Not do it? The only reason such arguments have gained traction is because they're constantly echoed by the toxic sides of the fandom online. It's gross and I don't want to be a part of a group that condones that.

Ship who you want, but let's just be respectful about it. We should not have to resort to cheap arguments like the above.

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: fighting/violence and vague mentions of injuries/blood, biting/marking, hints of a size/height kink on Opie's part, a territorial biker , again,all on Opie + the next contestant (EZ, he's your old boyfriend from high school, fyi.) dumb enough to try their luck, body fluids, hand jobs - female recieving / male recieving, body fluids -tell me you wouldn't cum on Opie's fingers, biting/marking, foreplay in a public setting, swearing, petnames, dirty talk and a slutty nurses costume. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt twenty - costumes

character | fandom - opie winston | sons of anarchy

reader | original character - female reader, girlfriend & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 2.5k

tagging -< taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you thought you'd wear your little nurses costume out to a bar to tease Opie. Opie decides that he's had enough of your teasing so he takes you home... or at least out to his SUV. .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It’s laughable, at best. Cheesy at hell, at worst. But it’s a way to amuse yourselves, you think to yourself as you nurse a drink, eyes scanning the crowded bar, scoping out the people who actually showed up in costume tonight. You’re hoping you’ll catch sight of Opie but there’s no sign of him just yet. Your finger drags around the rim of the drink-filled glass after you’ve sat it down.

You’re just about to text Opie and see if he’s running late when a throat clears obnoxiously from the stool beside yours. The second you’ve glanced up and over, seen the Mayans cutte the guy is wearing, you’re on high alert. 

He’s staring at you and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ❝ Your old man know you’re out alone, baby girl?❞ he asks. You roll your eyes. It’s EZ, he loves to pop up and be an antagonistic shithead, he does it every chance he gets. He loves to remind you that you were once young enough -and stupid enough, to think you wanted him. It’s like it gets his ego pumping.

 And with the tensions between both groups at an all time high as of late, it honestly feels like he’s stalking you. Because you can’t go anywhere in town without bumping into him lately, even work this morning. Oh, he claimed that he was just doing Angel a solid and bringing his kid by for a checkup but you’re not dumb. He spent 95 percent of his time sitting in the waiting room watching you like a hawk. And then, when he went to leave, he was both trying to flirt and insinuate that being with Opie could be dangerous for you right now.

But you don’t want to worry Opie, he’s got more than enough on his plate right now. Things with Samcro aren’t going smoothly at all. He’s already threatened to kick EZ’s teeth down his throat if he catches him breathing your air ever again.

When EZ chuckles and mumbles something to himself, you raise a brow and stare him down, unamused. ❝ Aren’t you on the wrong side of town, Reyes? ❞

❝ Bar’s neutral, chica. I just came t’ enjoy the costumes.. Relax.❞ EZ shrugs. Dark brown eyes flit over your body and when he licks his lips, it takes everything you possess not to slap the taste out of his mouth. He leans in just a little closer. ❝ You’re on th’ wrong side, baby girl.. If you were with me..❞ he pauses to take a sip of his Corona before continuing, ❝ I’d never let you outta my sight, especially not dressed like that.❞ he lets his eyes roam and you tug at the skirt of the nurses costume you’ve chosen,  ❝Damn sure wouldn’t let what happened t’ his first old lady risk repeating. Can’t be too careful, right, chica?❞

❝ None of that was his fault, Reyes.❞ you roll your eyes and finish off your drink, eyes darting to the door of the bar before you turn your attention back to EZ, ❝ I’d rather fling myself into the sun, EZ.❞

❝ I think you’re lyin, chica.❞ EZ muses, scooting his stool just a little closer. ❝ We both know you’re not over me. Just admit it. Ya still want me.❞ he chuckles again. Bites his lip as his eyes flit over your body, lingering just a little too long on your tits. ❝ Maybe letting you go was a mistake..❞ he gestures to your body, the way you’ve filled out since you were a teenager.

❝ Oh yeah?❞ you sass, ❝ Maybe I grew up, Reyes. I promise you.. Nothing about you appeals to me anymore. At all.❞

You’re about to slip off your stool and text Opie that the plans changed as you’re walking out of the bar but EZ is determined not to let you leave. 

What neither of you realizes is that Opie has come into the bar. And he’s caught the tail end of the entire tense confrontation. He knows damn well EZ is only trying to get to him and he knew as soon as he bumped into one of the other Mayans smoking out in the parking lot that he’d better get inside to you.

The fact that apparently EZ didn’t learn his lesson the last time they were face to face and the topic of you came up, well.. That combined with Opie Winston’s short fuse, lack of sleep the night before and just being fed up with the way the guy is always popping up, always has something to say lately.. Opie Winston is done playing.

You’ve just tried to put some distance between yourself and EZ when Opie appears out of nowhere, pushing himself up on you from behind. He chuckles, the sound is dry. Unamused.

A few of the patrons who happen to be sitting close are staring, quiet. Tense and ready for whatever might come next.

When EZ chuckles and you hear Opie’s trademark ‘startin to get real pissed off’ growl, you can feel your thighs clamp together as your panties start to get wet. When Opie goes into protective mode, it’s enough to make you want to tear his clothes off, no matter where the both of you happen to be. EZ steps up to you from the front. You’re now effectively wedged between the boy you used to want more than anything and the man you’ll love until you die.

❝ This shithead been botherin’ you, princess?❞ Opie’s voice is low and husky against the shell of your ear. You swallow down a whimper because you can feel his thick cock pressing right against your ass because you practically melted against his massive frame when he made his presence known. A rough hand squeezes your hip and he keeps you close.

He shoots EZ a murderous look. ❝ We’ve talked about this before, man.❞ he’s calm when he says it. Deathly calm. ❝ She’s mine, Reyes. I think I told you th’ next time I caught you sniffin around I was gonna curbstomp you into the fuckin pavement… Sound familiar?❞

EZ chuckles. He’s not bothered at all by Opie’s threats. He steps up to you, staring down. ❝ Think about it, baby girl. You know I’m not wrong.❞

❝ If you’re smart, Reyes, you’ll get out of here. My brother is already looking for one good reason to beat your ass in the ground. You know nothing, by the way..❞

EZ goes, but not without the parting jab, ❝ If you wanna keep your old lady, Winston.. Tell her to fuckin cover up when she leaves th’ house. I’d hate to find out somethin’ happened to her.. Seeing as how she was mine first.❞

And that’s the final straw. Opie shoves through the crowd gathered and catches up to EZ, grabbing hold of him to throw him against the wall. EZ shoves him back, the two men are swinging, shoving and ducking. EZ wrestles Opie to the ground and Opie flips them, a hand around EZ’s throat.

Until Angel strolls over.

❝ This fight is over.❞

Opie chuckles. Wiping blood from his mouth as he sizes up Angel. He’s still holding EZ against the barroom floor but he doesn’t care. He’ll take them both if he has to. The more you stand back and observe, the more turned on you are by just how fierce a protector your man truly is. People are staring and security is poised to strike, ready to throw out all parties involved because this particular bar is a known neutral territory and this kind of shit doesn’t usually fly.

❝ Yeah? See, I don’t agree, Angel.❞ Opie stands, towering over Angel. Sneering. ❝ I’m about fucking tired of your idiot brother sniffing around my girl.❞

Angel grumbles under his breath. And he steps up to Opie, smirking. ❝ What’s the matter, Winston? Feeling threatened?❞

❝ Not at all.❞ Opie’s smirking again. Chuckling to himself. ❝ Do I look like I feel threatened by either of you assholes?❞

Angel spots Tig and Chibs making their way into the bar. It’s now three against two. And Angel just doesn’t feel like this is worth his time. He smirks at Opie. ❝ You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Winston. Touch my brother again and I’ll fuck you up.❞

❝ If your brother even breathes around my girl again, I’ll fuck him up.❞ Opie’s calm when he says it. As Angel helps his brother up and out the door of the bar, Opie turns to you. As soon as your costume for the night registers with him, he’s speechless for a good ten seconds. But as soon as that’s over, he’s stepping up into you as if he’s trying to form a shield.

❝ Sorry I’m runnin late.❞ he mumbles against your mouth as his finds yours and one of his massive hands creeps up the short skirt of the costume, rubbing your barely covered cunt. As soon as he realizes just how flimsy the underwear you’re wearing is, he forgets himself for a few seconds, bucking into you while growling low and quiet against the shell of your ear, ❝ We’re not gonna make it t’ the stupid costume contest, darlin.. I’m takin you home..❞

You’re hauled up his body and he walks past Tig and Chibs, Tig calling out with a laugh, ❝ Leavin so soon, Winston?❞

❝ I got better things t’ do, Trager.❞

❝ People, Winston❞ Tig is smirking, you can see him when Opie turns back to flip him off with the hand that isn’t holding onto you, ❝ Fixed it for ya, Winston.❞ 

You laugh. ❝ Take me home, Opie. We can’t help it that Tig’s jealous.❞

Tig mocks you and waves his hands dismissively. Opie wastes no time getting you out into the parking lot and the second he has, you’re sat down on one of the picnic tables in the smoking area by the front door. Opie’s stepping between your legs and staring down at you, pupils shot with lust and his hands all over you, not caring who might or might not see. He leans down into you as his hand settles in the hair at the back of your head and he tugs you into a deep kiss. His other hand creeps up the bottom of the skirt as he bucks himself into you clumsily. ❝ Woman, are you trying to kill me?❞ he asks in a husky voice as the kiss finally breaks, ❝ I haven’t been able to fuckin think straight since that upskirt picture you sent me this morning. Fuck..❞

You can’t help but giggle and you shrug. Playing totally innocent when you tell him that you weren’t trying to do anything, you just thought he might appreciate the view on his lunch break.

❝ I dropped my goddamn wrench, woman. Open my phone and the first thing I see is that sexy little body…❞ Opie’s teasing, chuckling against your ear. A thick digit slips into the fabric covering your cunt and he drags it right between your folds. You whine into his mouth, rocking yourself against his finger as you warn, ❝ We gonna give Charming a show tonight, baby?❞ 

Opie chuckles. Nips roughly at your bottom lip as he responds quietly, ❝ Tempting as that sounds, no. I’m gonna take you home.❞ he pulls you up into his arms again and then he continues,  ❝ And then I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name. After I rip that costume off your pretty little body, baby girl. Is that good enough for you?❞ he’s smirking, especially when you start to rub yourself against him and your legs squeeze his waist tighter. He’s never said anything but he loves the fact that you’re so short. And flexible. With a soft pair of thighs and an ass he’s bitten a time or two because it’s just that juicy. He loves the way it feels when he’s carrying you all wrapped around him like this, your soft little body pressed right against his. Nothing makes him hornier.

❝Fuck.❞ you whine out, biting down on your bottom lip when Opie pauses at the door of his SUV and you find yourself pressed up against it. He’s trying to open it without stopping what he started when he was fingering you while you sat on top of the picnic table. You moan because his fingers are buried inside you, fucking into you and all you want is his cock.

❝ You kiss your daddy with that mouth, princess?❞ Opie teases with a laugh as he sits you in the passenger seat of the SUV and steps between your legs again. You know it’ll drive him crazy, maybe that’s why you choose to respond, ❝ I dunno.. Do I, baby?❞

You’re leaned back against the seat faster than you can process, Opie’s hands and mouth are all over you again, he’s leaving visible marks on your neck and throat as his hands slip up your skirt, fingers burying in your dripping cunt and the other one ends up beneath your shirt, below your bra. As he squeezes your tits and rolls his thumb over your nipple, you’re shivering. Begging for it, telling him how hot and bothered you were watching him stand up for you back inside the bar. Your hand trails down, slipping down the front of his pants. When you start to caress and pump his cock, he’s bucking against your hand, growling against your mouth as he deepens the kiss, lips straying from yours to drag down your neck, latching against skin. The movement of your hand stops and you’re rubbing against him, desperate for more than his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock. You’re holding onto the waistband of his jeans and he’s slipped his hand out from beneath your shirt, now he’s squeezing your hip. Rubbing you against him because he knows you’re needy right now and he’s needy too.

❝ I can’t fucking wait to get home and tear that costume off that pretty little body, princess. You knew what you were doing when you wore it.❞ he’s chuckling when he says it and you pretend to be clueless which prompts him to grab your hand and slip it down his pants again. When your hand circles his cock again, his breath catches and his head falls back. But then he’s plucking your hand off, pulling it out of his pants. ❝ Home. Now.❞ he growls as he gives you a few more biting and deep kisses and licks the fingers he had buried inside your dripping cunt clean, gripping your jaw to make you watch the entire time. ❝ I’m not makin a mess of my jeans when I can cum inside you, angel.. Don’t y’ want that?❞ he questions.

You whine and nod. You want it more than anything. You love the way it feels when Opie’s fucking you, filling you up with his cum. And when he fucks it back into you after he’s finished…

Just the thought has you begging to be taken home.

[lilkrissmuffet]

How you been queen, so I have a great imagine so how about the female bio android get the attention from other male humans because of her beauty and amazing figure making perfect cell seething with jealousy, so imagine one day she gets ask out by a guy who had a huge crush on her and steal her a kiss, and cell lost it and was about to murder him and decided to give the reader a hard fuck to remind her she is his ?

I've been well, thank you for asking! Just super busy tbh 😅 I know this ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while now soooo I'm gonna try to give it a go :)

Okay, first off: There is no 'about to' when it comes to Cell's thoughts on murdering some random clown stupid enough to move in on HIS territory. That poor sonofabitch is GONE, baby- likely blown to smithereens with a single ki blast or personally beaten to death by the Perfect Being's bare fists.

Oh, and he'll make her watch every second of the carnage too, just to be sure she fully understands that it's her fault for flirting back, regardless if she did or not. Cell is determined to make her see that the blood on his hands will stain hers as well.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice, darling?", he asks, almost casual as he stalks forward, slowly backing her shivering frame up against the building where he'd caught her canoodling with the now VERY dead culprit, "Did you truly think I wouldn't smell the touch of another on your skin, taste their human filth on your pretty lips? Foolish girl...I. Am. Perfection."

He stands so close now, crowding her in, pressing her back against the cold, harsh brick wall. It scrapes her delicate wings and the backs of her legs as she presses her palms to her beloved's chest, as if trying to soothe the green-eyed monster she's inadvertently awakened inside of him. But Cell roughly grasps both of her dainty wrists in a single fist, wrenching them up and over her nervously twitching antennae in one swift motion.

Effectively immobilized from the waist up, the much smaller android begins to squirm as this towering mass of bio-organic matter and muscle holds her down with the sheer strength of his powerful hips. Not unlike a butterfly specimen pinned under a display case, she can only stare up at him with wide eyes and pray that her mate will remember the meaning of mercy.

Indeed, he releases her aching wrists with a surprisingly tender peck on the crown of her head, muttering in a voice still thick with possessive fury and barely restrained appetite, a tone that brooks no argument: "Hold on to me. As tightly as you can."

She obeys without question, wrapping her arms around Cell's neck while he lifts her up, guiding her spindly legs around his waist. Then, without any sort of warning, her lover takes flight, rocketing up into the sky and through the clouds at a speed that leaves her breathless and dizzy with the sudden pressure change. Even in possession of her own set of wings, the android knows that she cannot hope to fly at the high altitude where they're currently hovering, completely dependent on her mate not to drop her to a certain doom. Up here, she can barely make out the top of the tallest skyscraper in West City, a notion that might be terrifying if it were not one deceptively simple word.

"Mine."

It comes out like a snarl, ravenous and roiling with a heat she can feel in the breath on her neck and the hard press of something thick and heavy against her abdomen. Afraid to glance down between their bodies, she can already tell she doesn't have to as Cell grips the tendrilled girth of his cock and slips it beneath her skirt, slithering under the edge of her panties to delve into her slick, clutching heat.

"If I ever see you so much as look at another man, be it human or otherwise...there will be consequences," Cell warns darkly, filling the butterfly's pulsing cunt inch by inch until he's completely surrounded by her warmth, savoring every twitch and flutter around his shaft, "Consequences most severe, my dear. Of course, I would hate to have to resort to such drastic measures, but let's just say if you continue to..."

Cell lets out a growl of approval as he adjusts the tiny creature that clings to him like a lifeline, holding her by the chin with one hand while supporting her slender waist with the other. Her trembling limbs coiled about his torso are the only other means of support to keep the poor thing from plummeting to the Earth below.

"Ah, there we are...continue to disrespect our bond in such a regrettable way...you, my troublesome little flower, will never see the light of this planet's pitiful sun ever again."

Cell is a creature who refuses to be gentle even during the best of times, perhaps seeing such softness as an affront to his perfect title. A weakness that must be suppressed by power and domination. And now, thousands of feet above the home he's made with the fragile female in his arms, he violates her with a vicious force that can only be described as punishing. He spears her on his length over and over again, using her up until the sound of those sweet, helpless cries nearly drown out his own quickening stream of animalistic grunts and growls.

"I will absorb you, do you hear me? I will...rrrgh...fucking consume you until nothing remains." The threat is as clear as the sky is blue, and deep down the butterfly doesn't dare to doubt his conviction. Not even for a second. Despite the breakneck pace of his thrusts, Cell's breathing remains steady and even, his gaze narrowing to a hard glare of concentration as he keeps her head still with a firm grip on her jaw. Seconds, even minutes go by where he barely even blinks, completely focused on pumping his cock faster, harder, chasing that rising edge of pleasure buried deep inside the woman he adores.

Then with an abrupt, sharp yank, Cell's mouth crashes into hers, devouring any pathetic pleas or apologies that she could hope to escape. His kiss is both possessive and aggressive in equal measure, nearly bruising the soft flesh of her lips before prying them open with an amethyst tongue.

"After all, what better cage could keep my darling safe," the bio-android purrs wantonly, trailing more wet heat down along the curve of her neck. He's getting close, can feel her tightening around him, a telltale sign of her own looming peak, "What better way to ensure that she knows to whom she belongs...than to swallow her whole."

The moment his sharp teeth sink into the pillowy mound of her breast, spurting synthetic blood into his mouth, the taste of her sends him careening into a climax so intense that he momentarily loses the ability to maintain his ki, the vibrant magenta of his eyes fading to a deadened, milky white as he floods the smaller android's womb with his hot release.

The butterfly screams and frantically flaps her gossamer wings as gravity drops the entangled pair like a rock. Only a few dozen feet or so later, is Cell able to regain enough composure to take back the reins.

"Shhh...I've got you~" he chuckles despite himself, holding her close as they both come down from the sudden adrenaline rush. Unable to hide the slight quiver in his voice caused by that brief lapse of control, he'd never admit that it had unsettled him, how such pleasure could sap him of his power...because that would mean admitting that she had some sort of power over him in the first place.

With a slight shake of his head, Cell lets those thoughts scatter to the wind as he begins a more deliberate descent, carrying the two of them back home again.

"I would never let you fall, little one...", he murmurs softly against the antennae that serves as his mate's only hearing apparatus, "You won't be escaping from me that easily."

[rainisawriter]

Hi can I request an h&l fic where fujio finally gets the motorbike he wants and has become quite the happy menace. Then maybe something happens and now needs the someone maybe from sannoh (maybe cobra or Yamato or both) to talk him to calming down. Dunno how the transition of that will be but maybe because Yamato fixes bikes?? Or something?

Thanks in advance 🤗😘

So, uh… I don't think this is what you had in mind when you sent this request I'm so sorry, I have no idea what happened lmao The fic just kinda… got a life of its own and took off, I guess. I totally understand if you hate this and feel free to send this request again if you'd like me to attempt sticking closer to what you wanted T-T)/

Genre: Fluff, friendship

Word Count: 5,853

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“Oi!” Kiyoshi slammed his hands down on the table, his eyes sparkling as he looked between me and Yasushi. “I want to go to Kyomin Café!”

“Kyomin?” the blonde’s brow furrowed as he glanced at you only to receive a shrug in reply. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a café,” you replied with a snicker. “Weren’t you listening?”

Yasushi rolled his eyes. “I know it’s a damn café, but what kind of café? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“It just opened up downtown,” grinned Kiyoshi as he sat down beside you, his body forcing you to scoot over so there was enough room.

“Downtown?” Yasushi and you exchanged a look and you frowned.

“That’s White Rascal’s territory. If they find a couple of Oya kids there, they’re not gonna be happy.”

The blonde scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “Please, we can take them easily!”

“You can try if you want,” you replied with a scoff. “But you can count me out. I have no interest in going against those guys.”

“Coward.”

“Call me what you want. I’m not a child like you, I won’t be goaded into it.”

“Hah?!”

Kiyoshi pouted at us. “Please? I really wanna go but I don’t wanna go alone!”

“Why do you wanna go there so bad, huh?” questioned Yasushi, looking suspiciously at his best friend.

His cheeks tinted pink as he lowered his gaze to the table.

The corner of your lips twitched upward as you realized the reason. “There’s a cute girl there, huh.”

His eyes widened, snapping over to you as his cheeks darkened. “How did you know?”

“You only have two interests - cute girls and fighting.”

Yasushi scoffed in disbelief. “No way in hell am I going to some cafe just so you can try and get a girlfriend. I have better things to do.”

“What?” you quirked a brow at him. “You mean glaring at Fujio’s group because you can’t beat them? Sounds like a bucket of laughs.”

“I don’t have to take this abuse from you!”

“Yet you’re not leaving.”

He glared at you for a moment, trying to intimidate you, but you just grinned at him, knowing you were right.

“Please!” cried Kiyoshi as he shot up from his seat, hands pressing together above his head as he bowed.

“Come on, Yasu,” you sent him a look. “This is clearly important to him and it’ll make him happy.”

He didn’t look convinced, narrowed eyes falling on the taller male.

“Besides, if we don’t do this we’ll have to deal with his sulking for the next week.”

Yasushi’s eye twitched at the thought, a scowl on his lips. “Fine.”

Kiyoshi’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Thank you!!” He threw his arms around the two of you, squishing you both to his body despite the table that separated you and the blonde.

“I already regret this,” muttered Yasushi.

You only sighed in agreement.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Kyomin Café was located in the heart of White Rascal’s territory and it was packed to the brim with customers, all dressed fashionably in bright-colored clothing. The three of you stuck out like a sore thumb but no one paid you any mind aside from a few confused or dirty looks.

“This is so stupid,” muttered Yasushi as he glanced around the brightly lit interior. The walls were a faint pink, the floor marble white and the fluorescent lights bright enough to replace the sun itself.

The majority of the customers were female, so you could see why Kiyoshi wanted to come here. Unfortunately for him, he failed to consider why it was such a hotspot for girls.

“Welcome to Kyomin Café!” A tall, attractive young man appeared in front of you, a bright smile on his face and little hearts drawn on his right cheek. The name tag on his chest read Kiku. If he was put off by the appearance of you three, he didn’t show it at all. “Is it just the three of you?”

Yasushi was glaring at him, clearly put off by his friendly demeanor.

Kiyoshi was staring at him with his mouth open as he fought between feeling annoyed and envious.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“I’ve got the perfect table for you! Please follow me.” He lead us to a table near the back of the cafe. It was square and painted white, pushed against the wall with three chairs surrounding it. “I’ll give you a moment to browse the menu. Back in a jiff!”

Yasushi scowled at his back. “I hate him.”

“You hate everyone, that’s not saying much,” you commented, picking up the brightly colored menu. It was full of sweets in pastel colors with cute names you wouldn’t be caught dead saying aloud.

Kiyoshi whimpered, lowering his head. “How can I compete with that?!”

“You can’t,” scoffed Yasushi, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest.

You kicked him hard under the table, glaring at him before motioning toward the defeated male.

He frowned, his hard demeanor falling the tiniest bit. He leaned forward, slapping Kiyoshi on the shoulder. “Hey, if they don’t choose you, then they’re dumbasses. So what if you’re not a pretty boy like that loser? Can he take a knife to the gut and keep fighting? No, he can’t! He would drop to the ground and cry like the loser he is.”

“You’re right…” He slowly lifted his head, his confidence slowly returning to him. “I’m twice the man he is!”

“Exactly!”

The girls sitting at the next table looked at the two weirdly before getting up and moving to a different table. You briefly wondered how long it would take before the three of you got banned from the cafe.

You rested your cheek against your hand, glancing to your left, eyes locking with one of the servers. Time seemed to freeze as the two of you stared at each other and it took a moment for recognition to flash through your mind.

It was Fujio. His usually slicked-back hair now sat against his forehead in waves, earrings dangling from his ears. He wore the cafe's uniform and tiny stars had been drawn onto the skin beneath his left eye.

His eyes widened in shock, panic clearly dancing within them. He stumbled back, nearly running into the guy who had seated you before he darted into the backroom. You had no idea why he was here but something told you he didn't want anyone at Oya to find out.

You glanced at your two best friends and frowned. You knew better than anyone that, if they found out, they would tease him mercilessly. The boys at Oya loved to gossip more than little old ladies enjoying Sunday tea so it would only be a matter of minutes before the whole of Oya knew.

"This shit looks gross," you stated, scowling at the menu. "My stomach already hurts. No way can I eat this sugary shit. Can we go now?"

"Hah?" Yasushi scowled at you. "You're the one who insisted that we come here for Kiyoshi. Now you wanna leave?"

You glanced around the room before leaning forward, lowering your voice. "My stomach really hurts, okay? You know how I get around big crowds.”

Kiyoshi frowned, concern written on his face as he leaned toward you. “Why is your stomach hurting? Are you sick?”

You shrugged a shoulder, looking at him pleadingly. “I don’t know, maybe. I think the ramen I ate this morning might have been expired.”

Yasushi scowled at this. “I just told you to throw that shit away!”

“I forgot.”

“You’re a hopeless idiot,” he huffed, standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Kiyoshi nodded, standing up and waiting for you to do the same. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, it’s not that bad. Thanks, though.”

“Where are you going?” Kiku approached us with a frown, head tilted to the side. “You haven’t even ordered yet. Is the menu not to your liking?”

“Piss off,” Yasushi huffed, glaring at the male as he walked past, making sure to bump his shoulder against Kiku’s. Kiyoshi also sent him a glare.

You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with Fujio again as he peered his head around the door. He was watching you nervously, his bottom lip between his teeth. He was clearly waiting for you to rat him out.

“Excuse me?” Kiku called out wearily, looking between you and the raven-haired male. “Do you know Hanaoka-san?”

“Nope,” you replied simply before turning back around and leaving the café. The boys were waiting for you, leaving an empty spot between them so they could walk on either side of you.

“We’re never doing that shit again,” huffed Yasushi. “What a waste.”

Kiyoshi’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry…”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much, Kiyo. You’ll find a girlfriend one day.”

“I hope you’re right…”

“I’m always right.”

Yasushi snorted loudly, sending you a disbelieving look. “Like hell you are!”

You returned it with a blank look. “You should really stop being such a buzzkill, Yasu.”

“I am not a buzzkill! Right, Kiyoshi?”

Kiyoshi paused, looking between the two of you. His lips parted but, instead of answering, he turned on his heel and took off down the street.

“Yah! Get back here!” Yasushi cried, taking off after him.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

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“I’m hungry,” Yasushi complained, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling of the classroom.

“That sounds like a you problem,” you commented, not looking up from your phone.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Oi, go with me to the vending machines.”

“Are you paying?”

He rolled his eyes as he stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t I always?”

You followed him out into the hall, dodging students as they rushed past. It had been a few days since you saw Fujio at the café and you had the feeling he was avoiding you. Not that it mattered much since you guys weren’t friends, but you had to admit that you were curious. 

Was he having money problems? Did he get roped into it by someone else? The only one you knew who could work there was Tsukasa, but you doubted he would be willing to take the job. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Tsukasa was walking down the hall toward you, hands in his pockets. His eyes met yours for a moment before he looked away. You stepped to the side to walk past him but he went out of his way to bump his shoulder against yours. You realized why he had done so when he pressed a piece of paper into your hand.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled charmingly.

Yasushi scowled at him. “Watch where the hell you’re going, Takajo!”

“Right, right. Sorry,” he apologized again, his eyes flickering to your hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied, sticking your hand into your pocket so Yasushi wouldn’t see the note.

“You should have punched him,” complained the blonde.

“It was an accident, keep your panties on.”

“I do not wear panties.”

“I hear they’re super comfortable for guys.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“You’d be doing me a favor.”

The two of you stared each other down for a moment before grinning and cracking up.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” you told him and he nodded.

“What do you want from the machine?”

“The usual.”

“Sure.”

You headed in the direction of the bathroom but kept walking when you reached it, glancing over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following you. You waited until you found an empty classroom before tugging the note from your pocket and reading it over.

'Meet me behind the school in 20 - H. F'

You hummed in interest, taking note of how pretty his handwriting was. Quite strange for a delinquent, but it somehow suited him. You considered going back to Yasushi and making up some lie about needing to go somewhere only to decide that it was easier just to go to the meeting. You could figure something out to tell him later.

Fujio was pacing under the large oak tree out back, his hand on his chin.

“Yo,” you called out, holding up the note when he looked over at you. “What’s up?”

He frowned at you, glancing at the note. “You didn’t tell Yasushi or Kiyoshi.”

“Did you want me to?” you inquired, quirking a brow.

“No!” he replied quickly. “No, I - I just figured you would."

"Not the first time you've been wrong, Hanaoka," you chuckled, trying to cut through some of the tension. It seemed to work as he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am curious, though. Why are you working there?"

His eyes lightened up at this and he dug into his pocket to pull out a page ripped from a magazine. "Look!"

You took it from him curiously, eyes scanning the page. It was for a motorbike, the price set at *. "Ho~? Are you planning to go the way of Murayama-san?"

"Of course not!" His brow furrowed and he folded his arms over his chest. "I just really want one. Have you seen Sannoh riding around town? They look so cool! I bet it's really freeing, too, like you're flying!"

You watched him closely as he spoke, taking in the cheerful and excited look on his face. He seemed so happy, so carefree, unburdened by the weight of being an Oya leader. You had to admit, it was a good look on him.

"What?" He pouted, shifting nervously under your watchful gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I think it's great that you have something you want and you're working hard for it," you told him honestly, handing the page back. "I hope you get it, Hanaoka."

"Thank you," he smiled softly before adding as an afterthought. "For everything."

"Sure. You don't have to worry, I won't tell anyone about your job. Later." You lifted your hand in a half wave before turning and heading back into the school. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you didn't have to check the ID to know who it was.

"Yah!" Yasushi's voice was so loud on the other end that you had to pull the phone away from your ear. "Where the hell did you go? Did I buy this shit for my own health, huh?"

"Keep your panties on, I'm on my way."

"I told you I don't - no, screw you! I'm giving your snacks to Kiyoshi!"

"Don't you dare -" But he had already hung up the phone. "Motherfucker," You muttered, rushing down the hall.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You stifled a yawn as you stepped into the café, the bright lights making you wince. It was dark outside but with all of the neon lights of the downtown district, it was as if the sun was still out. Even so, they couldn't compare to the overpowering fluorescents of the café. You couldn't help but feel as if it was completely ridiculous to have lights that bright.

Surely someone had to have complained, right? You glanced around at the customers, all of them young girls with stars in their eyes as they undressed the waiters with their hungry gazes. It made you shiver in disgust.

"Oh, you're back!"

Your gaze shifted to Kiku who smiled warmly at you. "Table for one."

"Your friends aren't with you?" he inquired curiously, glancing behind you.

"Wasn't really their kinda scene."

"Oh, I see," he giggled. "Follow me!"

Kiku led you to the same table you had been at a few days ago, promising to return soon. You still felt sick looking at the menu of pure sugar, but the iced hot chocolate looked appetizing. You made a mental note to ask if it was as sweet as everything else.

While waiting for the waiter to return, your eyes scanned the café but there was no sign of Fujio. You were sure he had been working tonight, but it was more of a hunch than hard fact.

Kiku returned a moment later. "Do you know what -"

"Is Hanaoka working tonight?" you interrupted him, not sparing him a glance. 

"He's supposed to be, but he's running late," pouted the male, his hand on his hip. "I was supposed to get off five minutes ago."

You hummed thoughtfully, wondering if he had gotten caught up in a fight or something on his way. You briefly worried that the White Rascals had found him and, for some reason, that made your heart clench up anxiously. It was a feeling you had only ever experienced when Yasu or Kiyo were in danger. Not just a fight, but genuine danger.

"I thought you said you didn't know -"

Fujio came rushing into the café, breathing heavily and his clothes askew. His eyes fell on Kiku and he hurried over, bowing with his hands pressed together in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Kiku-san! I had a… family issue to deal with."

Kiku sighed dramatically, inspecting the black polish on his nails. "You're lucky the customers love you so much. In fact, this one was just asking about you."

Fujio's eyes fell on you before widening in surprise, his lips parted.

Kiku patted him on the shoulder. "Go get yourself together and get clocked in, yeah? My feet are killing me."

"Yes, sir!" He sent you one last look before rushing into the back.

"Do you mind waiting?" inquired Kiku with a kind smile. "If you do, I can take your order before clocking out."

"I've got nowhere to be," you replied.

"Awesome. I'll let Hanaoka-san know to come see you first," he winked before turning and leaving.

You turned your attention to the window beside you. There was a small alleyway there with a brick wall on the other side, nothing too interesting. There was a line of windows stretching across the cafe wall, though, so you could see people walking past on the street, as well as the neon lights flashing across the buildings.

Thunder rumbled softly overhead, sending the people scattering inside, not wanting to be caught in the rain in their party outfits. 

"Hey."

You glanced over as Fujio squatted down beside the table, a pad and pen in hand. "Late for work, huh? You're never gonna get your bike that way."

He pouted, folding his arms on the table. "It wasn't my fault! Those guys jumped me, I had to fight back."

You scanned his face for any sign of injury but saw none.

He realized this and gently patted his right side, only to wince in pain. "I made sure they didn't get my face. I'm pretty sure I'd get fired if I showed up with a busted lip."

"Not necessarily. Girls like them," you motioned around you with your hand. "They live for drama. All you have to do is tell them someone robbed you and they'll eat it up. Might even give you a bigger tip."

"I don't want to lie to them."

You clicked your tongue, leaning back in your chair. "Sometimes this world doesn't deserve honesty."

"I'd rather live in a world that does," he admitted, a soft smile on his face.

You frowned at this, eyes narrowed. You wanted to call him a fool, to tell him that he was being naïve, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Fujio was an honest guy through and through. He didn't hold back his intentions or lie about what he wanted, even if it would benefit him. 

That kind of person can be easy to take advantage of, to manipulate, and you didn't want that to happen to him. For whatever reason, you now felt protective over him. It was the same way you felt about Yasu and Kiyo yet… it was also different in a way you couldn't put your finger on.

"So," he broke the tense silence, clearing his throat. "What are you doing here?"

You hummed, tapping your fingers on the menu. "Well, I didn't get to try anything the last time I was here. I kept thinking about the iced hot chocolate."

"Oh, that's one of our more popular items!" He grinned. "Everyone says it's really good."

"Have you tried it?"

"I have and I really like it. Do you want one?"

"How sweet is it?" 

"I can make it as sweet as you want. Most people request the sweetest version but I tried it and it was gross," his nose wrinkled cutesy and you chuckled.

"Just lightly sweet, please."

"Of course!" He scribbled it down on his notepad before glancing up at you. "Anything else?"

"I'll see after I finish my drink."

"Okay, I'll have it out to you soon." Fujio stood up with a smile, turning to give your order to the guy making the drinks but he barely made it two steps before his name was being called.

"Hana-kun~!" A short girl with wavy blonde hair waved frantically at him, nearly bouncing in her seat when he turned to look at her. She pouted her glossy lips, batting her eyelashes. "I missed you!"

He smiled charmingly at her, no doubt having learned it from Tsukasa. "I'll be with you in a moment, Minnie."

As soon as he disappeared into the back, her eyes fell on you, narrowed in annoyance. She sized you up before scoffing, a smirk sliding onto her lips as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger. She clearly didn't think much of you but you didn't really care either way. You weren't here to please this random chick you didn't even know.

Her face lit up when he stepped into the room again, but it fell when he ignored her and came straight to you, carrying the drink you ordered.

"I made sure it's not too sweet for you. Go on, taste it." He watched you closely as you sipped the drink. "Well? I can have it remade if it's too much."

"It's perfect. Thanks, Hanaoka."

A grin slid across his face, rubbing the back of his neck. "Glad you like it. I'll leave you to it, then."

You hummed as he finally gave Minnie the attention she was seeking. She kept glancing over at you as if to rub it in your face, but you were paying her no mind, looking down at your phone. Yasushi had messaged in the group chat, asking where you were since he had gone to your house and couldn't find you.

-> Yasubaka: Oi, were u kidnapped or sumthin?

-> Kiyochan: Kisnapped?!

-> Kiyochan: kidnapped*

-> Yasubaka: pft, I feel sorry for the kidnappers

-> Yasubaka: they got no idea what theyre in for

-> Yasubaka: seriously where tf are u??

You scoffed at the two idiots but couldn't help smiling at their concern. No matter how much you annoyed each other, you were still family at the end of the day. You quickly messaged back saying you had gone on vacation before putting your phone on silent and slipping it back into your pocket. Fujio was running around the cafe, taking orders and entertaining the girls drooling over him. He continued to check on you, but you chose not to order anything else.

After an hour of consideration, you had made your choice.

You pulled out a wad of cash from your pocket, counting out how much was needed for the bill before adding a $20 tip. You glanced at Fujio, catching his eye. He was in the middle of taking someone's order so he couldn't come over, but that was fine. You knew he was gonna fight against the over-tipping and you were too tired to deal with it. You motioned toward the cash and he nodded before returning his attention to the customers.

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"What the hell?!" Fujio slapped his hand on your desk, eyes burning as they bore into your own.

Yasushi and Kiyoshi were, thankfully, not in the classroom, but several of their followers were. They knew of Fujio's strength, though, and hesitated to attack him. They just stared at him with wide eyes and open mouths, trying to decide the best course of action.

You quirked a brow at him. "Hello to you, too."

Fujio glanced at the other students before lowering his voice. "We need to talk!"

"No."

"No?"

"I know what you wanna talk about and I'm not interested."

"It's too much!"

"Don't care." You sent him a blank look before getting up and leaving the room, the raven-haired male hot on your heels.

"Take it back." Fujio grabbed your wrist, trying to stuff the bill into your hand but you clenched it into a fist, giving him a grin.

"I refuse."

"Why are you being so difficult?" he pouted.

"Why are you? Just take it, Hanaoka."

He bit his lip, seeming torn. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"A hundred percent sure?"

"Yes."

"A hundred million -"

"I'm going to punch you."

A smile slid onto his lips, his grip loosening around your wrist but not leaving it. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't," you warned him, but your smile betrayed you.

"I won't if you won't," he said softly, his eyes once again boring into your own. They were softer this time, filled with something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Deal," you replied softly, unable to tear your gaze from his. Were his eyes always that pretty?

"Senpai, is everything alright?"

You quickly stepped away, realizing just how close the two of you had been. Clearing your throat, you looked at the first year that followed YasuKiyo. "Yeah, it's fine. Come on, let's go."

You could feel Fujio's eyes on your back as you walked away, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Over the next few months, you actively visited the café just to help Fujio with his bike fund. To be honest, the place wasn't terrible but you certainly regretted giving their food a try. As expected, it was full of sugar and made your stomach turn. How anyone could eat that drivel, you'd never know.

He continued to resist the extra tip each time but finally gave in when he realized you weren't planning on changing your mind anytime soon. Part of you was thankful for this while another part missed arguing with him about accepting it. With each visit, you felt yourself growing more attached to the male and it was starting to scare you.

Yasushi and Kiyoshi had also noticed the change in your demeanor, along with the constant disappearance acts you kept pulling. They knew something was up and, being the idiot brothers they were, they wouldn't drop the subject. Every time they saw you, they were demanding answers or glaring at you in a poor attempt to break you. Having to deal with them and the fact that you had no idea how you felt about Fujio now was annoying as hell.

Finally, you just started avoiding everyone just to get some peace and quiet.

There was a spot on the opposite side of the roof from where Fujio's crew hung out that no one used. Probably because the floor was super weak there and, honestly, was a death trap in the making. It was peaceful, though, so you found yourself hiding up there more times than not.

"Is that Fujio?"

"No way!"

Curious, you peered over the side of the roof, seeing the raven-haired male driving down the street on a shiny new bike. His smile was brighter than the fucking sun and it was obvious that he was pretty damn happy about finally getting his bike. He hopped off it as soon as he was in front of the school, showing it off to anyone who would look.

You snorted when one of the boys tried to touch it only to get a foot in the face and a scolding look from Fujio.

Seeing how happy he was to finally have the bike he had wanted for so long brought a smile to your face, but it also left a sour taste in your mouth. He didn't need you anymore, you realized. He was probably going to quit his job at the café since he had what he wanted.

It shouldn't have bothered you, but it did. It bothered you a lot, more than you were willing to admit out loud.

You rolled onto your back, hands behind your head as you stared up at the fluffy white clouds above you. 'I should be happy. Now I don't have to visit that damn café anymore. Yasu and Kiyo will finally get off my back, too. Not to mention how happy Hanaoka is. This is a good thing...'

You groaned, rolling onto your side and closing your eyes. "A good thing, huh..."

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You stifled a yawn as you walked down the street, heading home after a long day of fighting. For some reason, everyone and their grandma seemed to want to fight YasuKiyo and, by association, you. It was something you had grown used to after so many years, but it felt as if everyone came out of the trenches today.

Someone yelled your name from behind and you held back a groan, turning to see who wanted to fight you now. To your surprise, it was Tsukasa and Fujio. You said nothing as they approached, quirking a brow at the blonde as he was the one who had called for you.

"We need your help."

"My help?" you echoed, scratching your cheek. "What for?"

Tsukasa nudged the ravenette in the ribs and you finally turned your gaze to him. The sadness in his eyes made your heart clench up painfully, anxiety coursing through your system. He looked as if he wanted to cry, an expression you had never once seen on the male.

He took a step toward you, his lips trembling as he searched for the right words. "There was an accident..."

Tsukasa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you have to be so dramatic? They're going to get the wrong idea if you say it like that."

"Oh," he frowned at his best friend before looking back at you. "My bike, she... she was hurt. Badly."

The blonde folded his arms over his chest. "A couple of the part-timers got ahold of the truck Seki used to drive and they didn't see his bike there."

"She didn't stand a chance!" Fujio cried, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Tsukasa said you could help. Is that true?!"

"Ah, well... I can't help -"

His head fell, grip tightening on your shoulders.

"- but I know someone who can."

His head shot up, hope in his watery eyes. "Really?!"

"We gotta go to Sannoh territory, though."

"I have to get back to Oya," said Tsukasa with a sigh. "They made a real mess with that damn truck. Can I leave him in your hands?"

"Yeah, I got him."

"Thank you," he smiled charmingly at you before giving Fujio a stern look. "Behave and don't cause them any problems. No fighting with Sannoh, got it?"

"You have no faith in me, Tsukasa," pouted Fujio.

"I wonder why..."

After parting ways with the blonde, you led Fujio toward Sannoh's territory, feeling nervous for a host of reasons. Despite Cobra and Murayama having long since squashed their beef, they were still wary of Oya. Probably more so now that Murayama had left. They were also super protective of you because of your cousin. By all accounts, it was a bad idea to bring Fujio here yet you didn't hesitate.

Fujio needed you and you loved it.

The metal door to Asahina garage was up and your cousin sitting inside eating some onigiri. There was a broken down bike off to the side and he had no doubt been working on it before taking a break.

Yamato glanced up when he heard you enter, his eyes widening when he realized it was you. He jumped up, throwing his arms around you and squeezing the life from your bones. "Oi, where the hell have you been, huh? I was beginning to think you forgot about your favorite cousin!"

"You're my only cousin," you grunted in annoyance, trying to shove the hulk of a man off of you. "And I was here like two weeks ago."

"To see Cobra!"

"And? Cobra is less annoying."

"Thank you."

You glanced at the stairs, seeing Cobra descending them with a bottle of water in his hand and a smile on his face. "You're here, too?"

"Don't sound too excited," he joked, but a serious expression came to his face when he spied the ravenette lingering behind you. "Who is he?"

Before you could say a thing, Fujio bowed at the hip and introduced himself with vigor. "Hanaoka Fujio!"

"He's my friend," you stressed, sending the two males a stern look. "And he needs help."

"We're not a charity case," scoffed Yamato, eyes narrowed at the boy.

"He needs his bike fixed," you explained, taking note of how your cousin's eyes lit up at the mention. "I'll pay for it if that'll make you happy."

"No!" chorused Yamato and Fujio, sending you a scowl.

You held your hands up in surrender, fighting back your smile. "You'll help, then?"

Yamato seemed to consider this for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Bring it to me and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you so much!" cried Fujio, bowing to them again. His eyes weren't quite as dull now, regaining some of their usual happy shimmer.

"I'm not making any promises," muttered Yamato before returning to his snack.

You patted the ravenette on the arm before turning to leave the garage.

He walked at your side, a pep in his step. "Thank you for this. It really means a lot."

You hummed. "Don't think you're not paying me back for this."

A smile tugged at his lips and he nodded. "Of course! Whatever you want."

The words made you pause, brow furrowed at him. He made it a few more steps before realizing you had stopped. He glanced at you, tilting his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"Do you mean it?" you questioned softly. "Anything I want?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

You closed the distance, leaning closer until your face was just inches from his own. You knew exactly what you wanted.

Fujio swallowed hard, his cheeks tinting pink. "W-What are you -"

You leaned toward his ear. "You're buying me lunch for a month." And then you pulled back, walking away as if nothing happened.

Fujio's lips parted, face burning as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

You grinned back at him. "Oi, you comin' or what?"

He tried to get a hold of himself, ignoring his racing heart as he rushed to catch up with you.

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High&Low Masterlist.

WIPs.