#and he goes ahead and just calls me a woman

[nonbinarymissdude]

it's so annoying to me i can't present the way i want and act the way i want without people trying to invalidate my gender. i AM a man! men don't have to have any particular body, or features, or behaviors to be men.

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

[thewosoway]

The ale way // alexia putellas x reader

Alexia putellas was a simple woman. Of course she had won a lot and she had always put up this front of how she was to the rest of the world. To you she was just ale. The same woman who constantly swept you off your feet and made you feel like the only girl in the world.

Alexia had her ways to do things whether that be different routes she took when driving or making changes to recipes to make them her own. Whenever anyone outside of the close friends and family spoke about alexia it was always how great she is and how people thought the family might work around her. In reality alexia hated being waited on and had to do everything her way otherwise it was wrong and messed up her whole day.

Today was exactly the same, she woke up early and left you in bed getting on with her routine but still making sure that whenever she woke you up there was going to be no room for arguments or anything to go wrong… until it did.

You woke up too early for her to be ready, normally you would have stayed in bed until she came to get dressed but nala kept barking and bouncing on the bed so you just had to get up. You went downstairs and let nala out before coming back up to find alexia in your bedroom looking for you. “Where did you go? You are meant to be in bed love. I was about to come and get you why did you get up without me? Now the whole day is ruined”

You just looked at her and walked back out of the room to go and get nala without saying anything. Sure you loved alexia but sometimes her way of doing things definitely wasn’t the best. You sat on the couch and waited for her to get ready before she came back out and looked at you “I’m sorry amor, it’s just you know how I like to do things and it just hasn’t gone my way this morning”

“I know ale I know, your mamas waiting love so we best get going to see her and alba” she nodded at you and kissed your cheek before helping you up and taking you upstairs so you could get ready before going out. Seeing alexia’s Mami meant the world to you, there was nothing better than seeing how much love they shared for each other. When you joined the family alexia immediately took you to her Mamis house and introduced you to her.

Eli knew how much of a control freak alexia was before she moved out but it was nothing compared to now. It was a game day so like always alexia had a tight schedule and needed everything to go a specific way.

In the morning you met with her Mami and alba for breakfast, then you go to prematch training, you have a little bit of time with the girls before going to the stadium and playing. Alexia has very specific prematch routines with what she does and what she eats. Every time you meet her Mami for breakfast she gets the same thing. When you have the prematch meal with the girls she has the same thing. She takes herself away from everyone to have a little personal time which you know means she’s thinking of her Papi and praying that he is on her side watching her play and hoping to play the best she can for him.

When she goes off to have what you and mapi like to call ale time, you normally sit on your phone or read a book to take the focus off of the match ahead. Once she’s finished she will come and find you and greet you with a smile and a kiss to the cheek before she gives you a proper kiss and a hug.

She times everything down to the last second. She’s very particular about what happens at what time. She’s definitely something but she’s your something and you wouldn’t change her for anything. She has her perks but that’s what makes her ale and you love her for that. Alexia is definitely not afraid to admit that she has specific preferences for everything but she knows that whatever happens you will always back her up and support her through whatever.

Through the game alexia would make different decisions and see things others wouldn’t, making runs down a line that the opposition didn’t see was open, moving slightly forward in a corner to open herself.

Sure she had ups and downs but that’s what made her perfect. She’s a great player and she knows it, everyone does. But she’s a completely different person away from the cameras and the crowds. She’s quiet, she’s cuddly, she’s sweet but she still has ways of doing things even if that was when she would put the dishes away differently because she thought her way worked better.

You loved her and her ways. She loved you even if you sometimes didn’t follow her plan and how she wanted everything to go. You made it work together, she just does it slightly differently to you.

**

I’m not to sure about it, I was having a massive problem thinking about what to write but definitely wanted to get it out before the match tonight. I’ve got 2 requests and I’d like to get the first one out by tomorrow but it’s currently half way done with no name so we will see. Hope you enjoyed reading, please send me some feedback if you wish for what you think I can improve on or anything you want to see written. Love you all, stay safe xx

[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, ��holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[velocesainz]

Oscar Piastri

friends to lovers(I wanted to ask if you don't mind adding that when they're going to have sex reader is insecure of her body)

Bathrobe: You're literally perfect

Mesh top: Why do you care so much

Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound

Tank top: I can't get enough of you

Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous

Cufflinks: Jealousy

Leg warmer: Degradation

Tie: Choking

Mirror sex

A/n: Thank you for the order! Enjoy!

Friend no more

F1 Masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Oscar and reader are best friends and garner feeling for each other. Reader thinking it’s a lost cause after being accidentally friend-zoned by Oscar tries to move on but Oscar has other plans

Pairing: Oscar piastri x reader

Warnings: smut, slight angst

Order receipt:

Bathrobe: You’re literally perfect

Mesh top: Why do you care so much

Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound

Tank top: I can’t get enough of you

Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous

Cufflink: Jealousy

Leg warmer: Degradation

Tie: Choking

Bucket hat: Mirror sex

Face mask: Insecure reader

Reader pov:

I sat at our apartment waiting for my best friend to arrive so we can get ready to go together to a party that Oscar decided to drag me to

One thing about me is that I care deeply for the people I love and will to anything for them, even it means sacrificing a perfectly good lazy saturday evening that I could've spent watching tv shows and binge eating chips.

I love Oscar, much more than a friend and I have a suspicion that he feels the same judging by the way he cares for and looks at me . His mom herself told me she was sure that he liked me but you never know, I'm waiting for him to make the first move just to be sure

Me and him have been friends ever since we were in diapers. Our parents were best friends and so we followed the same. I followed Oscar around in the gap year I had taken before uni and we grew impossibly closer.

I was still working on my degree in aerodynamics hoping to join Oscar in his ventures in formula 1.

My train of thought was cut off by the doorbell ringing pulling me back into the real world

I quickly opened the door and let Oscar in

"So what are you planning on wearing?" Oscar questioned as he started picking out what he was going to wear

"I don't really know, maybe a pair of jeans and a shirt?" I responded still contemplating outfit choices

"Oh come on that's so boring, let loose, wear some dresses for a change" He told me and took me by surprise

I guess he was right, maybe he was going to confess and that's why he's making me dress nice.

I put on a short satin black dress feeling sort of exposed and insecure and quickly did my make up and curled my hair

"Ok I'm ready to go!" I called out to Oscar

I froze when I saw him, he looked so goddamn hot. He was in a simple pair of blue jeans a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up

I swear I was going to melt right then and there

"Y-you look absolutely gorgeous" He sputtered

"Getting a compliment for you? I must look really hot then huh" I replied sarcastically

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves now. Let's get going or we will be late, not that we're not late already"

It was in Oscar's nature to be late to whatever or wherever he goes to do but he's been slowly working on it.

We both sat in his Mclaren and drove to the club where the party was

Upon reaching there we were met with a crowd. I had not met Oscar's friends in formula 1 as of yet so I was nervous as well as excited to meet them today.

Lando approached and brought us in

"So who is this beautiful woman you have with you today Oscar?" Lando questioned

"This is my childhood best friend y/n. We grew up together" Oscar replied breaking my heart

"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend mate?"

"I don't like her like that" With that my heart shattered into tiny pieces. I thought he liked me back.

I guess I was wrong this whole time. I was only his best friend, nothing more.

After we reached the table I quickly made my way away from Oscar to sit at the opposite side

I saw Oscar flirting with a really pretty looking model making me dig an even deeper hole in self hatred and insecurity.

I decided to speak to Lando who seemed interested in me. I mean I had to get over Oscar in one way or another.

As we were talking we slowly started flirting and touching each other softly

Oscar pov:

As soon as we reached the table y/n went and sat at the opposite end of the table which was very odd, she loved sitting next to me.

She was then approached by Lando which made my heart sink. I have liked her for years but I never had the guts to tell her and at this point I don't think she likes me anyways.

Observing th two of them I saw them flirting with each other and lightly touching each other all I could see was red.

I don't know what came over me but I walked over to them and grabbed y/n's hand dragging her out of there

"Hey what gives?" she shouted at me

I ignored her protests and threw her into the car and drive straight to our apartment

As soon as we got home I dragged her inside

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was having a really nice conversation with Lando until you rudely came and interrupted us" she exclaimed

"You both were getting too flirty and close to him. If I hadn't stopped it you would've ended up in his bed" I tried to explain

"So what Oscar? Why do you care so much?" she snarled out

"I care because you're my best friend and i don't want to see you getting hurt" I replied

"It was literally as if you were jealous of me and Lando being close" she said

Hearing Lando's name made me clench my fists.

"Jealous? So what if I am jealous" I replied my eyes getting darker

"W-what-" I cut her off with a passionate kiss

She broke the kiss quickly

"I'm just your best friend Oscar, go back to those hot models. I'm not as pretty and hot as they are"

This made me angry. How could she think of herself like that? To me and a lot of other guys she was the most beautiful woman ever.

"You’re literally perfect darling. I'll show you just how pretty you are darling" I whispered huskily into her ear and dragged her to my room while kissing her.

Reader pov:

Oscar took us to his bedroom and pushed me onto the plush bed

He took off my clothes one by one admiring my body but being the insecure person I am I tried covering myself

“Don’t do that. You’re literally perfect. Stop shying away and hiding from me” he told me and placed me in such a way that I could see myself in the mirror

“Watch yourself while I fuck you bitch. See how pretty of a slut you look for me”

With that he lined himself up and thrusted into me bottoming out immediately

I let out the loudest moan I ever had and as he continued to thrust into me I moaned non stop he felt so good

“Mhph your moans are my favourite sound. Keep moaning whore”

He then switched positions from doggy to missionary and thrusted into me again

He put his hands around my throat lightly choking me causing me to let out a moan

“Oh you like that little slut? You like when I choke you like that?” He asked

All I could do was nod in response

We both were approaching our highs and his thrusts turned sloppy

“Where do you want me whore”

“In my mouth please” I pleaded

He pulled and pumped himself to the edge while circling my clit which also brought me to the edge

Thick strings of hot cum entered my mouth and I swallowed it completely savouring the taste

“You’re so perfect for me baby. Never leave me” with that he hugged me and we both fell into a deep slumber

A/n: hello lovelies hope you guys liked this, it’s kind of a long one. As always make sure to send any feedback. Kissies ✨

[shutupineedtothink]

More ep 7 thoughts, now that I’ve watched it twice and processed 🫠

Bookending the episode with Lilia’s fall but first it’s down and then it’s up - sick, twisted, beautiful, devastating, I’m crying

The soundtrack really goes hard in this ep

The wildest part about the “ex best friend” line is all of those things are equally insane - ex, ex best friend, or best friend. Like ma’am what hex were you living in

Babysitter is likely a reference to the comics, but interesting also in terms of WV because we saw Agatha babysit the twins only once I think. Does this mean she actually spent more time with them than we know?

Wow once again Kathryn Hahn is doing so much work in this first scene with Billy, she’s going from snarky to wary to calculating to hurt to i don’t even know. She’s doing a masterclass in face acting.

When they start to climb toward the castle, Agatha has her hands clasped behind her back and initially I was just like ma’am, why are you like this, but then I realized oh. Her hands are tied right now.

Waning moon for the Crone trial babyyyyyy called it

Fun and fast transition to get us into the trial, since we know the deal by now

She’s based on me you know — sooooo, tragic, misunderstood, secretly suffering her whole life, constantly judged by others, uh huh uh huh

Prove it - he really doesn’t believe a word she says! And she looks so hurt by it!

The way Agatha sits in the chair omg girl please chill

This is such like an Indiana Jones trap I love it

God I love Lilia’s visions, changing the perspective to hers, the blurring around the edges - sometimes you don’t need to do much, but it’s hella effective

Actually a lot of good camera tricks in this ep I’m not going to point them all out

It’s about limiting beliefs baybeee - once again the writers showing they know their psych

I’m sorry that tea leaves to the underground transition??? Spectacular

“Well tell me what more I should see when I look at you. No, I mean it” - hey nonviolent communication, how’s it going 🤌

God can you imagine how scary it would be to have these visions as a CHILD

Did you not see imminent impalement in your future?? Lol why did this get me

I get the fake nose on Agatha but idk maybe I could’ve done without it

Teenager his full name LOLOL underrated joke

Dory OMGGGGG

Jen being the ultimate Lilia champion this ep and I love it. Also seems to contradict her behavior even more in Agatha’s trial, but she’s still more snappy with Agatha here too

What are you wearing, I don’t wanna talk about it - bruh every line. EVERY LINE.

Did I mention the transitions are killer

Your task is not to control but to see. - I, I can’t keep writing down every line but

I love that as soon as Jen knows what’s going on, she’s totally on board, just asking Lilia for intel, like yep this is normal now

Ahhh the spell book. Interesting that Lilia finds it.

Ohp - I wish Lilia was here. Ask and you shall receive - see the Billy’s Road theory

She calls him baby again 😭

Is snappy dialogue one of my biggest joys on this earth? I think it is

Proper tarot takes time and care. And leads to large gaping wounds - …. You mean like internal wounds? Like trauma? Like you have to bring up the trauma to heal it? Uh huh uh huh cool cool cool cool you said it Agatha not me.

The Magician, the ability to turn all of your goals into reality - Agatha immediately side eyes him. Bruh.

I’m a forgotten woman. Then remember yourself. 🤌🤌🤌

I was falling. I will fall. - CAMERA. MOVEMENT.

What will you do with your remaining time 🤝 all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us. Iykyk.

The subway baybeee get that House of R theory

God this tarot spread scene is so epic.

Ok Jen being the path ahead… I gotta come back to that

Agatha is the obstacle yep that makes sense (but the obstacle is the way)

Windfall - Billy, miraculous transformation uh yep ok

Destination - Death. Such a good reveal, even if I already knew it. Once again the power of good writing. In the end all roads lead to me. UGH WTF

NOT THE GREEN VINES SPELLING A BIG OL “R” WHEN THE DOORS OPEN

The original green witch…. Ok so she is in the coven… but also Billy’s in the coven? It’s a shared black heart? Or it means you can go one direction or the other… hm.

Ughghghghhh her just giving them each what they need before she sends them onward. She’s the GOAT.

Did I mention the music????

This whole scene is so EPIC. The tower upright fuck it up queen

Oh my God Lilia took her power back 😭

We didn’t see a body unlike Alice I’m holding onto that “see you at the end” lyric with all my might at this point

Time in a bottle was sick and twisted and beautiful I love it

I just… can’t believe this is something I got to witness. Like it’s so good I’m mad about it.

A few other quick thoughts:

Jen being the path ahead… if she was birth in the first trial (see my maiden mother crone trial theory), then maybe she’s also REbirth? It’s a circle sewn with fate… we’re going back to the beginning but emerging from the Road this time. Eh??

Patti…. PATTI!! Where’s her Emmy? Where’s the show’s Emmy???

Not only was this a better time travel plot than the rest of Marvel as I said in another post but it’s also better than time travel in Doctor Who for the last 10 years and that pisses me off low key.

Not to jump ahead but buckle up kids cuz if we’re following the loose structure of WandaVision then ep 8 is our flashback/reliving the trauma episode for Agatha and as much as I was destroyed by this ep I am so not ready for all of that.

Anyway. What a masterpiece. I’m DONE.

[sp1d3rzz]

The Devil's Bride

Ryōmen Sukuna

Warning!! : Mentions of death/killing, forced marriage, and basically Sukuna being an asshole and having no respect for reader.

Summary : After Sukuna reclaims his throne and becomes known as the King of Curses once again, he decides on bringing forth a Queen. You

A/N : I somewhat switch pov's during this so don't get confused. Part 2 coming soon!!

Days have passed since Sukuna has once reclaimed his throne. Yet, he seems to be bored out of his mind. There's nothing to occupy him from his apathy.

Sure, he has countless people at his feet he can order to do as he pleases. But what's the fun in that? He needs something exciting to happen. Something to fill his empty pit of boredom.

He contemplates on whether or not he should start a war, find more slaves soldiers to do his bids, or perhaps even go on a killing spree somewhere random in this dark, dark world. Better yet— why not just kill everyone??

Well, not yet at least.

His teeth grind together and his fists clench in annoyance to this endless pit of nothing he can't seem to shake off.

But just before he rips someone's eyes out with his bare nails from frustration, he forges an idea. And with that idea, comes a no-good smirk spreading across his face.

What does every king have in every fairytale, movie, and book? That's correct. A Queen.

"You." His thundering voice reaches the ears of a guard who could be approximately 52ft ahead of him. "Come here." he motions with his fingers.

Almost immediately, the soldier makes his way up the steps and to the throne of his King. "Yes, my Lord?"

Sukuna makes a simple face of boredom, supporting his head with a propped up fist. "Gather 5 of my best soldiers and find me my Queen." his eyes squint, which silently says 'Hurry it up.'

And without another word, the guard takes off to seek out to the Kings orders.

Not many people could get in the mind of Ryōmen Sukuna. To understand what goes on in that so called empty mind of his is mildly impossible. But, taking a wild guess, the soldier puts together things the King takes an interest in.

Power, Control, and Cruelty.

To find a Queen fit to the Kings likings, she must be innocent. A girl who can't stand up for herself, but when she attempts to, she cowards out.

A girl who needs someone to make the decisions for her. But also a girl who has a little spark in her soul. A spark that can carry her to victory no matter the battle.

This shall be the woman who Sukuna finds quite delightful.

The next step was finding a girl who fits this description.

While this soldier is pondering off into space, he almost forgets about his group of men. Which, he's surprised to see catch up to him with a younger looking woman.

"P-Please!! Let me go!" she sobs, loud enough the birds in the trees fly away and flee from the scene.

Tears flow down her cheeks and onto the dirt. Her clothes are scrunched up and dirty, most likely from how roughly his men handled her. And her breathing is so uneven, she might just pass out.

"I swear I'll never tell a soul—" hic! ",if you just let me go!"

There's two men on each side of her, both practically dragging her through the ground. "We found her out here by herself. She seems to be lost." The one on the left inquires.

Once she's dragged to be met face to face with the lead soldier, he grins.

She's a mess. Forehead so sweaty strands of her hair stick to it. Panting so rapidly, she might use up all the air she has left in her lungs.

The soldier takes one last look at the girl, eyes scanning her over, just to analyze how fit she is to take the role as Sukuna's Queen.

"What do you want for me?! Why– why are you doing this!" the girl begs to know any sort of information. Anything to get a grasp on herself.

No one responds.

She looks to her sides, expecting any kind of answer. But is instead met with the men completely ignoring her.

"She'll do perfectly."

Heavy footsteps echo throughout your head, which by now has been ruined with a horrible headache. Lucky you.

It's hard to tell how long you've been out for. If they've hurt you, or if you've somehow died and awoken in the after life.

The only thing you're sure of is how much pain is coursing through your body. It's to the point you're numb all over and you can barely lift your head up. Barely lift a finger for that matter.

"My lord." A familiar voice rings in your ear and back out. "Your Queen." Another one seems to say in-front of you.

In a desperate attempt to figure out what the hell is happening, you weakly lift your head, blinking a couple of times to regain your focus.

Your vision still remains slightly blurry, but you're only able to make out a set of stairs. Stairs that lead to what seems to be a throne. And in that throne, sits a man.

As you concentrate on this mysterious man, your vision slowly begins to recover.

He has spiky pink hair, long black nails, two eyes on one side, with a plated set of 2 more next to it, and 4 arms? His chiseled shirtless body seems to be tattooed with stripes and dots on each of his shoulders. No, no, this can't be right.

"Bring her here." his voice practically echoes into the air.

Your eyes widen to this sudden command, and you wiggle your arms, attempting to loosen yourself of the men who have you a strict hold over you.

Though it seems to not work, because the men ignore you and continue to their orders. Step by step, the men take you to who appears to be the lead of this whole situation. The man who looks to be the devil himself.

In protest, you kick your feet a little, trying to gain balance and hopefully escape wherever you've been brought to.

But before you can successfully break away, it's too late.

You're met with the horrifying (but somewhat sexy) face of the man who has caused you all of this misery. You scowl at him, which in return earns you a small look of satisfaction.

Disgusting.

His men hold you up to him like a piece of meat, dangling you in-front of his nose as if he was meant to devour you with one swift bite.

His eyes scan up and down your figure. Almost like he's purposely invading your personal space. "Pretty little thing, aren't you?" his words taunt you in a sense you'd never thought you'd feel.

You avert your eyes from his. Turning your head away so he's only in view of your cheek. You're mentally unable to face him.

The prideful moment you had was quickly interrupted. With one swift move of his arm, his hand snatches your chin and snaps you back so you can looking him eye to eye. "Did I say you could look away?" he growls.

His sharp nails press into your skin, making you wince. With how tight his grip is on you, it feels like your skin might tear.

His brows scrunch together lightly as his eyes lock with yours.

"I-"

"Silence." he's quick to cut you off.

Your mouth closes shut almost instantly, and your head drops once he releases you from his grasp. Pathetic.

Everything hurts so much. Your head, your body, and apparently your voice now too.

Small whispers spread around you. From one person to another, you can hear all sorts of comments the strange people are making about you.

If the men holding you up right now were to let go of you, you're sure you would collapse and never get back up again. Fall into an endless abyss and never awaken.

"Take her to the cellar. I shall deal with her later." he orders.

You groan a little when the men tighten their arms around yours. But your vision fades back to nothing as they take you away.

It's been hours.

Hours of crying, screaming, and wishing upon your own death. To end this confusing mess that has somehow been brought upon to you.

You're curled up in the corner of the cell, cold walls and bars keeping you away from whatever source of life might be out there.

It almost pitch black in the haunting cellar. The only things in sight is your arms, which wrap around your legs to pull yourself into a tight ball.

Everything feels dirty. You feel dirty.

Small droplets of damp moisture fall from the ceiling and hit the rough concrete. Your skin is hot, tingling up your bones to the point you might overheat.

Your mouth is dry, deprived from the lack of water you've had in the past week or so.

Before you were captured, you were on the run from home, escaping the endless chains of torment your parents had put you through.

It might have been a stupid decision, especially since you had no where to go at the time, but it had to happen. Your life wasn't meant to be lived like that, and neither was it for this life.

Your eyes close shut, mind struggling to block out the unbearable sound of water meeting cold, hard, ground. It itches down your skin with every fall.

Abruptly, the creak of a wooden door captures your attention quickly. Lifting your head up out of curiosity to see who's there.

"H-Hello..?" You call out, but it seems useless since no one replies anyways. Though you know someone has to be there. The evidence of lingering footsteps tells enough.

Seconds pass by to what seems to be an eternity before the footsteps stop in-front of your cage cell.

Everything, including the man in-front of you, seems so unreal.

He doesn't say anything, just stares down at you as if you were just some dirt on the floor.

"What do you want from me!" You shout at him, but it appears to get you no answer except a irritating frown.

Your teeth are gritted together, and it take everything out of you to not pounce at him. Well, not like you have the strength or energy to do so anyways.

He rests his bottom two arms on his hip, and crosses his other two over his bare chest. "Y'know, you're starting to piss me off."

A moment of silence rests between the two of you before he finally speaks up again.

"What's your name?" it's more of a demand than a question, but you don't care. You don't owe him anything.

And once again, another pass of silence flows by.

He raises a brow, giving you another chance to answer. But, it seems you wont of any use for the time being.

"Name's Sukuna, but you can call me your King."

His words catch you by surprise, lifting your eyes up in a shockingly manner. "W-What..?" you have to confirm what he just said was actually him and not just an imaginary voice in your head.

He let's out a huff, shaking his head to your stupidity. "Do you know why you were brought here?"

Well obviously not, or else you wouldn't have been taken aback to his statement. "No, I don't."

"You were brought here to stand beside me as I rule over this.. kingdom of mine."

And just like that, his words crash and bring down your whole life. Everything you've been through, fought for, and accomplished are all worth nothing. It was all useless.

"No, I refuse–"

A hand slams down on the bars, causing you to flinch. "I don't remember asking how you felt, did I?"

Immediately, you go quiet. The hurtful beating of heart being the only sound audible as he glares down at you from behind the bars.

"Tomorrow shall be the wedding. I'll have my men bring you to me first thing in the morning."

Leaving you no time to protest, question, or even give him a snarky reply, he disappears.

You're left all alone, mind now pounding with how quick this is all happening. You have no say in anything, it seems.

Nothing seems to matter when you feel your eyes flutter close. Too exhausted to reject this rest, you fall asleep.

Thank you for reading! I'll try to have part 2 out as soon as possible (which contains the smut 👀) but I hope you guys enjoyed this so far ^^ Reblogs are also greatly appreciated 💗💗

[angelyuji]

Hi Izzi! I really like the stepcest thing

Maybe you can write about slightly dark step... brother(? Peter Parker? Him always looking at the reader and getting too close to her, reader's dad not realizing something's wrong cause he's still in the "honeymoon phase" part of the relationship with May

Peter being love-struck always wanting to smell your hair/touch you in some way/spend time with you

RAHHWHHAHHAHDHHRHWJ UR COOKING WITH GASS

step bro!peter x gn!reader

tw // implied noncon (under the cut), stepcest, manipulation, gaslighting, semi-public sex (also under the cut), shitty actual father so... yeah

18+!!!!!

you knew of peter, but you guys never really crossed paths before in high school. your dad had been dating some mystery woman, but told you that he wasn’t ready for her to meet you. and before long, you leave for college and come back in the summer to find out your dad’s mystery gf is now his fiancé who is peter parker’s aunt/guardian??? you’re completely blindsided when you get home and find out that, not only did may and peter MOVE IN, but you’re sharing a room with peter 😭😭 (since you're gone for most of the year and peter commutes from home, they thought it would be better for you both to share) (they also just wanted to convert the spare bedroom into an office for may.... so you see where your father's priorities lie)

your dad is sooo in love that when you complain about it, he tells you “please, kiddo, your old man is so happy. can you try to make it work?” and gives a sad old man look to make you fold.

step-bro peter def steals your clothes while you’re taking a shower, so you’re forced to come into the room in a towel or ask for his help. he def just steals ur clothes too. he’s the type to be super touchy when you’re near him, smelling you, holding your hand, and “accidentally” grazing your chest or ass. don’t bother telling ur dad tho cuz he’ll just say that peter’s making the effort to be family and you’re being rude.

i have a couple thoughts/scenerios….

one) its movie night and ur sitting at the end of the couch and peter sits next to you. the two of u are sharing a blanket. (may and dad next to him) you’re starting to fall asleep, eyes fluttering closed, when you feel a hand on your thigh. you look down to see peter’s hand on ur thigh, but when you look at him, he’s staring straight ahead at the movie. you try to move ur thigh, but he pinches your skin, stopping your movement. “what the hell do you think you’re doing.” you whisper.

peter puts a finger to his lips, before whispering back, “i’m just making sure you feel good.” he sees you look at your dad, “you don’t want them to see, do you?” peter moves your leg on to his lap, spreading your legs. you try to close your legs and call your dad when you see him, with may’s head on his shoulder. you close your mouth. he’d just get mad at you for ruining movie night.

two) this whole thing with peter touching you, invading your privacy, stealing your things, etc has been going on for a long time. with how happy may and ur dad have been, you kept quiet. you didn’t want your dad to be upset and you can deal with peter until you graduate. the only time you get a break is when you left for the fall semester, but its right back to business as usual when you’re back for break.

may and ur dad decide to get married summer of your sophomore year. so thanks to wedding stuff, you had gotten a break from peter…. until the day of the wedding. everything goes smoothly, of course, and you make ur speeches with tears in your eyes. thanking may for making your father so happy. peter comes up to the mic, thanking your father for making may happy “and for giving me (y/n), the best sibling i could ever ask for.” he smiles at you, raising his glass to you as everyone applauds peter. you force a smile back.

when everyones dancing and drinking, peter drags you away to a quiet room in the banquet hall. “(y/n), i’ve been waiting a long time for this.” he has you cornered against the wall and before you could look for a way out, he’s kissing you, trapping you between his body and the wall.

“peter, i-i need to go out there. our parents are going to look for us.” you try to move, but peter moves you back to where you were. he pulls you into him and kisses along your shoulder.

“they’re drunk and happy, (y/n). don’t ruin it for them.” peter bites into your shoulder. “now, baby, turn around and bend over.”

RUAHHHAHGAGAHHRHHRHRHRIWANTHIMSOOOBADDDD

icky step bro peter plsss come into my room at night and feel me up becuz ur a depraved virgin PLEASEEEPLEASE

[sleepynoons]

In Another Life

You get unjustly kidnapped by Bonten because your ex-boss fucking sucks. Ran saves your ass but leaves Sanzu with the responsibility of watching over you. All you want is to be alive and happy with your child. But does Sanzu even care about protecting you? And if he does, do you… care about him? What happens if he wants to become a part of your family?

Will you let him into your life?

bonten!sanzu x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+

word count: ~9,600

cw: manga spoilers, single parenting/single parent!au, explicit language, suggestive content, depictions of violence/pain/injuries/drugs/alcohol/etc., mentions of domestic violence + abusive relationships, hurt/no comfort

notes: lmk if i missed anything in the warnings. cross-posted on ao3. this story means a lot to me, i hope you'll give it a try.

edit: tysm for 100+ notes y'all are making me cry, really appreciate all the support <333

SANZU LEAVES the bakery with a few bags of dorayaki tucked underneath his arm. He’s running ahead of schedule – he still has half an hour before Mikey expects him –, so he meanders through Tokyo's network of dark alleyways and hidden shortcuts.

He walks and walks and walks, letting his feet guide him wherever. He’s been working in the streets for long enough. He’ll know how to find his way back to Bonten’s headquarters no matter where he ends up.

He makes a left turn, a sharp right, two more left turns, until he hears the buzz of a nearby shopping district. He follows the sounds of people hustling about and finds a narrow path between two shops to slip through. He can see people walking by at the end of the path, but he doesn’t enter the busy streets, opting to observe and watch the crowds fluctuate instead.

And then he sees you. Clad in a flowing beige dress with a white t-shirt layered underneath, you’re staring off into the distance as the wind ruffles your hair. You’re laughing at something or someone, but as he tries to get a better look at you, a rush of shoppers streams past and blocks his view.

He slips a cigarette out of his back pocket, lights it, and breathes out a puff of smoke as he chuckles. When he glances back into the crowd, you’re gone. He turns around to retrace his haphazard path. Mikey likes his dorayaki warm.

–

Two weeks later, when Mikey’s supply of dorayaki has dwindled to a dangerous low, Sanzu returns to the usual bakery, accompanied by Ran this time.

The two are close colleagues, though Sanzu thinks “close” is too intimate of a description. Sanzu likes to keep people at arm's length away. Close enough to build cohesive, mechanical teamwork but not enough to skip pleasantries and create personal connections.

Sanzu is outside of the bakery, scrolling through his phone and tapping his foot as he waits for Ran. The latter always liked taking his time, and Sanzu’s patience was wearing thin. Luckily, his colleague walks out a few moments later. Sanzu is about to shoot a snarky comment when he notices that Ran is conversing with a woman.

It takes a few moments for Sanzu to remember who you are.

“Sanzu!” Ran calls happily. “Can you unlock the car?” Sanzu rolls his eyes before he slips the car keys out of his pocket. “Oh, and let me introduce you!”

You bow, offering your name and a few compliments to Sanzu’s suit. You wear a neat smile as you wait for his response. Sanzu, too, says his name and a brief “thank you,” all while avoiding eye contact.

Ran continues, “She goes to this shop regularly, as well. I wonder why we’ve never met before.” You nod in agreement before dismissing yourself, bidding the two a good rest of their day.

As Sanzu and Ran drive back to headquarters, Ran asks, “You know her?”

Sanzu groans before curtly responding, “No.” Ran hums, a smirk tugging at his lips, but does not press his pink-haired colleague any further.

It’s not like Sanzu was lying. He didn’t know you. He just saw you sometimes, and neither of you bothered to say anything when you did see each other.

However, after this interaction, you and Sanzu begin to cross paths frequently, always at the bakery every other Saturday at 8 AM sharp, when the dorayaki are almost out of the oven and the toasted pastries are being shelved.

Sanzu notices the pastries, such as the mango croissants and berry-filled sandwiches, because he always lets you order at the counter first. You always buy a lot. You carry at least two bags of food home, yet you never struggle with the weight.

He also notes the smooth lilt of your voice when you speak with the bakers. You seem to know the staff well, and he finds himself entranced by the highs and lows of your giggles, sassy retorts, and sincere praise.

You speak in the same sweet manner with him, which initially surprised him until he remembered that you aren’t aware of his occupation or lack of a moral compass. Although your exchanges are limited to questions of “How are you?” and “Any plans for today?”, he finds himself relaxing and basking in the casual nature of your exchanges. Usually, he replies to strangers with one or two words, but he comes to appreciate your lighthearted aura and matches the flow of the conversation.

And when the two of you part ways, you always say goodbye with a full smile, and with a few waves of your hand, you cross the street and disappear from his line of vision.

But Sanzu is not a consistent man (aside from his unwavering loyalty to Mikey), and his routines are often disrupted or forgotten. So when Sanzu finds you in one of Bonten’s warehouses, he mentally chides himself for being caught off guard. He switches gears and replaces his agitation with doubt and suspicion.

“What’s going on?” Sanzu asks Takeomi. His older brother huffs out a puff of smoke while handing him a thin laminated folder of photos and information.

As Sanzu flips through the documents, Takeomi speaks. “A client tried to rat us out. We captured a few of his employees to see if anyone knows anything.”

Sanzu hands the folder back before redirecting his gaze onto the kneeling employees. There are five in total – some of them shivering from the cold, others frightened still, all duct taped across the mouth. He narrows in on you for a second, observing the creases in your forehead and the tears that slip down your cheeks. His hands twitch.

“Did we get anything yet?” Sanzu asks again.

“Nothing so far. It’s a shame that we’ll have to kill them off,” Takeomi replies, though there’s very little remorse in his voice. It can’t be helped, Sanzu thinks, but he feels disappointment course through his body. He ponders on a compromise but drops the idea. Work is work, and you are no exception to Bonten’s procedures. All witnesses had to be killed, and Sanzu is not one to disobey Mikey’s orders.

But not all of the executives are as stringent as he is. Ran and Rindou saunter into the warehouse, and of course, the older Haitani bursts out with a joyful greeting when he sees you. You startle at his presence, and Sanzu can tell your shock and disbelief when your eyes widen. If your mouth wasn’t forced shut, your jaw would’ve dropped open as well.

Ran walks over to you and begins to untie the ropes binding your wrists, knees, and ankles.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Takeomi yells. A few ashes from his cigarette drift to the floor.

“Can we keep this one?” Ran yells back. “I like them!” Takeomi only scowls, peering at Mikey’s back. After waiting for a few moments, Bonten’s leader doesn’t react, and Ran smiles gleefully. Sanzu releases a breath he doesn’t remember holding. He reminds himself to maintain professionalism again. However, the more he stares at you panting and heaving, the more overcome he is by an itching need to take you somewhere far, far away.

“No.” He blurts without thinking, surprising Ran and Takeomi.

“Uh, sorry?”

“No, we’re not keeping her.” Ran knows not to argue against Bonten’s No. 2, but he huffs and crosses his arms, a scowl on his face.

“Then what else can we do to make sure she doesn’t say anything if we can’t kill her?” Takeomi asks. Sanzu doesn’t have an answer.

After discussing with Mikey, Takeomi, and Kakucho, Sanzu is tasked with the responsibility of checking in on you every two days. You aren’t opposed to the idea – not that you have a choice –, and you are escorted home by Sanzu soon after being notified of your release.

During the drive home, Sanzu asks you questions, gathering information and noting interesting tidbits. You’re the same age as him, a simple employee of a large corporation with a corrupt Board of Directors, and, to his surprise, have a five-year-old daughter.

While Sanzu has acquired many skills fit for a criminal, negotiating and speaking tactfully has yet to be something he is capable of.

“And the father?”

You glance out the window. “Ran away.”

“Why?”

You shrug. He clicks his tongue.

“Can I ask a question, if you don’t mind?” you ask.

After a few seconds of silence, you continue, “What’s going to happen to my coworkers?”

“They’re dead.”

The rest of the ride is silent, as well as the walk up to the third floor of your apartment complex. Sanzu needed to know where you lived, and the easiest way was to escort you to your home. However, before you slip inside your room, you turn around to face him.

Sanzu freezes.

Your eyes are fierce, an icy flame burning in your eyes. Your pupils dilate, more color than white, and you glare at him for a few moments. Then, in a level – almost cold and condescending – voice, you say, “My daughter will be protected.” Sanzu swallows, surprised at your intensity, before nodding once. You smile at his affirmation, though it doesn’t reach your eyes, and bid him farewell.

–

As promised, Sanzu visits you every two days. Most of the time, he simply drops by in the morning before you leave for work and says a quick greeting. You usually rush to the door from the kitchen, wearing a black apron covered with flour and powdered sugar. On Saturdays, the two of you visit the bakery together.

“Where’s your kid?” he asked once.

“Oh, I sent her to daycare already.”

“Even on the weekends?”

“She used to only stay for the mornings, but now she stays until lunch.” Sanzu is about to inquire about the change before it clicks.

“I must be keeping you,” he mutters and rubs his nape. Sanzu rarely apologizes, even implicitly, but he’d never wish for a child to suffer from neglect as he did.

“No, no, not at all! My daughter loves the daycare and her friends there. Besides, I like our time together.” You pat his shoulder before wrapping your hands around one of his. “You make my Saturday mornings.”

The way you effortlessly say “together” and hold his hand baffles him. He’s part of a major yakuza group. He killed your coworkers. By pure association, you and your daughter would forever be in danger. Furthermore, even if Sanzu wasn’t a higher-up in Bonten, it’s not like he’s an upstanding individual with a healthy lifestyle.

Sanzu had his fair share of relationships, though they were all very noncommittal and ended as soon as he shot them in the head. It’s not like he wanted to kill them, but whenever he was caught on the couch doing drugs, they always threatened to report him, and he didn’t want to waste time behind bars. Besides, he never considered a single one of them as a lover.

While you showed a lack of shock or discomfort whenever he visited on his more… spent mornings, Sanzu knew you would be no different. Out of best interests of both of you, Sanzu knew he should keep his distance.

But that’s kind of hard to do when you see someone so often, and Sanzu doesn’t realize it until Mikey calls him over.

“Sanzu, what’s this?” Hand steadying the tsuka of his katana, Sanzu turns around and faces his boss, who is sitting behind an ebony wood desk. A brown paper bag dangles from Mikey’s fingertips.

“Is that not dorayaki?” Mikey pulls out a large cream puff covered in powdered sugar and condensed milk.

Sanzu’s eyes widen. His job is to follow Mikey’s orders as they are delivered. Providing excess was as shameful as underperforming.

“My apologies, I must have grabbed it by accident.”

“I never knew you liked sweets.”

I don’t, Sanzu thinks. But he sure as hell knows who does.

“Do you want me to get more dorayaki tomorrow?”

Mikey looks at the clock before he tosses the bag into Sanzu’s unexpecting hands.

“You’re done for tonight.” Sanzu’s heart weighs a ton, acting almost akin to a kicked puppy. He has strived for years to become his boss’ right-hand man, yet he has failed at one of his most basic, routine tasks. “And bring more of those cream puffs in the morning.” Sanzu nods, refusing to disappoint Mikey further, and leaves the office to head toward the garage.

In the driver’s seat, the executive pulls out his phone. It wouldn’t hurt to try, he thinks. He calls you. It rings for a few moments, but you eventually pick up with a soft “Sanzu?”.

“I’m heading over to your place,” and he’s backing out.

Sanzu’s not sure why he’s in a rush. Probably ‘cause of Mikey, he convinces himself. But he’s also aware of the time. It’s a little past midnight, so your kid’s probably asleep.

When he appears in front of your entrance, he doesn’t even need to ring the buzzer before you throw the door open.

“Is something wrong?!” You’re heaving, hair messy from sleep and blue-light glasses slipping from the arch of your nose.

“I should be asking you that,” Sanzu replies.

“You’re the one who called me and said that you were coming over with no context! Is something wrong?” Your cheeks are flushed with exasperation, and he can’t help but stare at you with slight amusement. Sanzu gestures to come in, and you scramble to get out of the way.

“Your kid,” he says as he takes off his shoes, “what’s her name again?”

“Chizu.” You’re really glaring at him now, with cheeks puffed out, and Sanzu thinks this entire situation is comedic. “Why are you asking me that?”

“You know, people would usually ask why before answering.” He takes another glance at your stiff figure before continuing. “Anyway, I accidentally bought a cream puff from the bakery this morning, and I remember you telling me once that Chizu enjoyed these.”

“That’s all?”

Sanzu hums in affirmation.

You relax, relieved that it isn’t an emergency and even a little touched that he remembered what you said. Before you can thank the pink-haired man, a door cracks open.

Your little girl whines. “Mommy, you’re loud.”

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart. I was just doing some paperwork in the kitchen. I’ll be more careful, alright?” You crouch down to embrace your daughter, but your shoulders aren’t wide enough to hide Chizu’s line of sight from Sanzu.

As a result, the little girl is wide awake. She wriggles out of your hug, darts under your open arms, and speeds toward the man.

“What’s your name?”

Sanzu looks at you, and you grimace with a weak apology. Sighing, he squats down and decides to indulge the little girl.

“My name is Haruchiyo. It’s nice to meet you, Chizu.” Your daughter gasps in delight, excited that this stranger already knows her.

“How do you know my name? Who told you?”

Sanzu chuckles at her awe. “Your mom always talks about you.”

“So you’re Mommy’s friend? I thought Mommy doesn’t have friends.” You cringe a little.

“Your mom is very proud of you, so be nicer to her, alright?” Sanzu tries to pat the little girl’s head but ruffles her hair instead. He then gets up and ambles toward the door.

Taking his cue, you also rise and shuffle towards the door. “It’s getting late, Chizu. Go back to bed.”

Before the two of you even notice, Chizu’s tugging at Sanzu’s slacks, little balls of fists wrinkling the fabric. “Haru, stay!” Sanzu struggles to hide his annoyed groan, and you struggle to convince your daughter to let go.

“Haru, stay! You’re Mommy’s friend, so you have to stay!” Chizu’s whining transforms into loud pleas, and when she gets this way, you know the only way to appease her is to give her what she wants.

“Haru…,” you mouth. “One night wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

Sanzu shoots you a deadpan look, and you return with a steady one.

Finally, he gives. Chizu’s sobs were grating his ears, and driving back to his cold and empty condo was just not worth the effort.

“Stop spoiling the brat,” he mutters through gritted teeth as the two of you lead Chizu back to her room.

–

You haven’t woken up next to someone in years. Chizu is already 5-years-old, meaning it has been almost six years since your ex-boyfriend left you.

It’s early, sometime between four and five in the morning. Sanzu is snoring next to you, and you’re extremely tempted to brush out his bangs. You’re unsure if your need to touch the man comes from a place of genuine attraction or of chronic loneliness. So you settle down and decide to admire him as you wait for sleep to take over once again. You notice that Sanzu looks like he’s in pain when he’s asleep.

–

Sanzu hasn’t woken up next to someone in years. He never let any of his previous girlfriends stay the night (probably another reason why they always wanted to break up).

It’s early, probably a little past seven. Much of his job and Bonten’s activities happened at night, so he usually would never wake up until afternoon the next day. He only wakes up at nine in the morning every other Saturday.

You’re sleeping on your side, one arm folded into your chest and the other draped over the blanket. He wonders how you’re breathing because half of your face is smothered into the pillow, but he doesn’t question it because you’re constantly exceeding his expectations. Sanzu feels the urge to get up and cover your dangling leg with more of the blanket. Yet he decides against it; jostling the bed might wake you up. So he waits for sleep to take over once again.

–

The next time the two of you meet is two days later in the lobby of your apartment complex. Sanzu spots you first and waits for you to notice him. You do a few moments later, after shuffling a crumpled folder into your shoulder bag. You manage a weak smile and try to smooth down the wrinkled front of your blazer as you shuffle over to his side.

You greet, “Late night?”

Sanzu snorts. “Always.” You wait. You’ve always thought Sanzu’s eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue, but you have a much clearer view as the man stares at you. It’s an electrifying, piercing blue – bright and almost neon. “The boss wants to see you.”

You choke. And barely manage to sputter, “Boss? You mean, your boss?”

“He wants to know how to bake bread.”

“Oh.”

Very normal. Your average neighborhood (and potentially national) yakuza boss wants to bake. Just another day.

Next thing you know, you’re in front of a large apartment building that screams elitism from the gold engravings on the steel fence to the three large cherub fountains in the center of the courtyard.

“This is where the boss stays most of the time.” As the two of you ride to the top floor of the complex, Sanzu explains to you that this entire section of the prefecture is owned by Bonten. Many of the executives live here or nearby for ease of communication, as Tokyo is the organization’s center of operations.

Given all of that information, you expected more… grandeur. There should have been dozens of guards, weapons out in plain moonlight, and security checks to prevent you from exposing Bonten.

As soon as the elevator door opens, Ran rushes over and waves enthusiastically. “Good to see you again!” he exclaims.

You wave in return and take his hand, following his lead as he guides you to the entrance of Mikey’s home. Sanzu trails behind the two of you, accompanied by another man who has the same tattoo as Ran.

“You know, I would’ve never expected the boss to be interested in cooking! Mikey is a disaster in the kitchen – actually, he’s horrible at housework in general. All of us executives have to clean up after him,” Ran says.

Again, you assumed Mikey’s home would be rich with glamor and sparkle. But the interior is quite minimalist, or rather, it’s empty. You try your best to listen to Ran, but your eyes wander around. From the entrance, aside from a leather couch and a glass dining table, there are no other decorations or items with sentimental value in sight.

Approaching the living room, you are faced with four more men. They offer stiff nods before glancing over at the hunched figure sitting in front of the kitchen island.

“Boss,” Sanzu calls.

No response.

Still nothing.

Not a word or move.

You suck in a breath. You speak in as steady of a voice as you can. “Thank you –”

You feel the second-in-command glare holes into you as he threatens, “Stop –”

“Let her finish.”

You glance at the figure. “Thank you for having me.” A few moments of silence pass, and you ask, “What kind of bread would you like to eat?”

“Mikey wants to bake,” Sanzu grits out through clenched teeth.

“I know.” You turn around and give him a stern glare before looking back at the boss. “But it’s important to make something you want to eat. Isn’t that the point?”

Mikey slides out of his chair. With bated breath, you watch as he meanders towards you, head bowed and hands tucked into his pant pockets.

“Cream puffs.” Mikey’s voice is quiet and low. Smooth but gravelly and rough whenever he finishes a sentence.

Cream puffs aren’t a type of bread, you think. But of course, you’d never say that out loud.

“Cream puffs sound wonderful.” You smile, even though you know Mikey can’t see you. “We should get started then.”

“Well,” Ran interrupts, “we don’t have any ingredients.”

You spin around. “We don’t have anything?”

Ran shakes his head.

“Sanzu.” You turn toward the pink-haired executive. “Do you think food appears out of thin air?”

“Huh? Of course not – What the actual –”

“I’ll text you a list of things we need. Go to the grocery store. Now.”

Sanzu spews confused curses and retorts at you as Ran laughs and drags him out of the apartment. The other executives trail behind, sharing an unspoken understanding that nothing will be accomplished unless they go, too.

Only you and Mikey remain. The latter stands in front of you as you text Sanzu ingredients. You even momentarily forget about the boss as you mutter under your breath and cross-check your list with other recipes.

Mikey watches. But Mikey has never been one to beat around the bush.

He says your name after you send the text.

“Yes?”

“You can be with Sanzu, as long as he prioritizes his work.”

Though you are confused, you opt to nod.

“Be prepared to lose him.”

Mikey pulls out his phone from another pocket and dials a number. “I’m going to sleep. Take her home.”

Throughout the rest of the evening, you repeat Mikey’s words over and over again in your head, flipping them inside out, bending them backward and forward. Mikey’s words are like a shiny coin. You examine the contents of its surface and circumference, searching for a deeper meaning - was there a secret message? a signal or nuance? - if it even existed.

I can’t lose him if I never had him, you think. It’s been a few months since that evening in the icy warehouse, and you’re acutely aware that Sanzu has eased his way into your life. You make his morning coffee (with no sugar and soy milk) along with yours, and during the times when he checks in on you at night, he stays in the car as you pick up your daughter. As a result, even Chizu has taken an extreme curiosity toward the man, and Sanzu has to stay over until the little girl falls asleep. Most of the time, Sanzu half-heartedly listens to Chizu’s chattering, but if he’s feeling generous (which you can tell when he lets your daughter cling onto him), he also reads her a bedtime story or two.

You realize: Losing Sanzu wouldn’t just hurt you – it would also damage Chizu, and she was already being bullied for having a single mother.

Recently, thinking about Chizu has left you feeling a little restless. Don’t get it twisted – you’re damn proud of yourself. You have a comfortable, plush home, enough nutritious food for three meals every day, and Chizu’s going to attend a well-established elementary school next year. You’ve done well, and you know some things are out of your control, but your accomplishments can’t always shield you from negativity and doubt. Sometimes, you think, it’d be nice if you had someone to lean on.

–

“What’s going on?” You notice that Sanzu’s fingers are tapping erratically on the steering wheel. He’s also glaring at the red light. “Well? Out with it,” he sneers.

“Chizu’s getting bullied.”

A vein appears on Sanzu’s temple, and you’re not sure if you should be more intrigued or scared by his reaction.

He curses and says, “Let me guess. The kids find it weird she doesn’t have a dad?” Your silence is all the affirmation he needs as the light turns green, and he makes the left turn to Chizu’s daycare.

When you buckle Chizu into her booster seat, Sanzu turns around.

“Kid.”

Chizu stops her chattering. “My name’s Chizu.”

“Squirt, if the other kids pick on you for only having a mom, tell them that you’re goddamn proud that she’s your mom, alright?” Chizu nods enthusiastically and pecks your cheek. “Also,” Sanzu continues, “just say that I’m your dad. That’ll shut ‘em up.”

“OK!”

You panic. You hurry back to your seat, and as Chizu babbles about her day, you look at Sanzu with concerned eyes. He gives you one unbothered side glance, and his eyes are trained back on the road.

The two of you don’t talk until a little past one in the morning. You finished up some last-minute tasks, and Chizu is in deep sleep. To avoid waking her up, though, you usher Sanzu into your bedroom, only leaving the door open by a crack just in case.

“Why did you tell Chizu you’re her dad?”

“To get the other brats to zip it.”

“Do you know what it means to be a dad?”

Sanzu thinks for a moment. “No, but at least I know what a dad shouldn’t be.”

You touch a hand to his cheek. “I see. You don’t have to explain if you…”

Sanzu’s lost in thought, deciding whether or not to tell you.

The man sighs. “I had a younger sister. Her name was Senju, and she was just as annoying and clingy as Chizu. We were raised by our older brother – you saw him at Mikey’s place, the man with the large facial scar. I hate to admit it, but when Senju was around, it felt like we were a family.

“Looking back, I think the reason why Senju was so needy was because our parents were never around. I don’t give a shit about trauma or whatever, but it makes sense. She just wanted someone to care for her. We didn’t get bullied for it, though, because our older brother would throw cigarette butts at whoever tried to, and besides, our neighborhood was full of broken families and kids. Chizu’s just a fucking loud twat, so she needs someone to defend her.

“I’m not saying you’re a shitty mom, but you’re busy. You can’t defend your kid if you’re nose-deep in work 24/7.”

“Sure,” you say. You choose your next words carefully. “But… how is a Bonten executive like you any different?”

“I’ll just be a big, scary dog. I’m not actually going to be Chizu’s dad.”

“That’s not what you told her, though.”

“Huh?”

“You told Chizu that you’ll be her dad. She’s going to think you’re going to stay around and act like the father figure she never had.” You reach out and pinch Sanzu’s arm. “Don’t go back on your word.”

Sanzu swats away your hand and, with a clenched jaw, acquiesces. “Fine.”

–

You’ve never been good with confrontation. Confrontation made you lose your ex-boyfriend and all the support from your family, and you were never really good at it anyway. If anything, you prefer time to wash all the tension away and resolve things. But the present issue is entirely new to you, and your impulse is split between wanting to scream your emotions at a plaster wall or burying them so deep that even you would eventually forget they existed.

It’s been two weeks since Sanzu declared himself as Chizu’s father. Since then, both of you have decided on rules and boundaries and resumed your daily routines. The only difference is that Sanzu spends all of his free time with you and your daughter, meaning he’s over more often. As a result, you’ve only become more and more aware of the Bonten executive, and you fear that you’re overexerting your heart.

There’s no way you could tell Sanzu what you’re experiencing. You’re worlds apart, you remind yourself. Despite your gentle chiding, the side of you that wants to confess and lay out everything to Sanzu only grows stronger with each passing day. So what do you do? How do you manage all the butterflies, goosebumps, and icy hot chills that appear at the mere thought of Sanzu?

You throw yourself into work.

It’s fall in Japan, which means job-hunting season. After very little consideration and hesitation, you go job-searching. Spending hours researching, revising your resume, and developing your portfolio were practical and easy ways to divert your attention, and after two months of cold-emailing and passing interviews, you land a stellar job as a marketing manager for an expanding restaurant chain.

Not only did you get to work a job that combined two of your main passions, but the paychecks are also heftier. That night, to celebrate the wonderful news, you crack open a can of beer as Chizu sleeps. Just a small reward, you think smugly.

“You drink?”

You glance at the door where Sanzu is untying his loafers as you chug down your second glass. You hum a little, which echoes inside the cup.

“Let me have some.” Before you can contest, Sanzu swipes the beer can and swallows the remaining liquid before letting out a relieved sigh. He then stalks to your fridge, pulls out four more cans, and sets them down at the dining table.

Usually, you would’ve snarled at anyone who touched your drinks. You rarely drink, so your stash is always limited to your favorites. With a shrug, you let Sanzu off - only because you’re in a good mood.

As you refill your glass, you ask, “You’re back early. Is something wrong?”

“None of your business.”

You’ve come to realize that when Sanzu says that, he doesn’t mean it in a rude manner. Taking it literally, he’s right. None of the work he does is legal or ethical, and hearing about the number of people he killed today would ruin your mood immediately.

“Why are you drinking?” he grunts.

You smirk before replying, “I got a new job. It’s also close to Chizu’s daycare, so we don’t have to rush to pick her up. If you can’t drive us, we can always fetch a cab home.” Sanzu mumbles something, but it’s muffled as he downs another large gulp.

At this point, both of you are a little tipsy. You giggle at Sanzu’s slurred stories of his middle school days, and he listens to you as you share memories of when Chizu was a toddler.

“You know,” he says, “you’re so much more different from what I imagined.”

“How so?”

“When I first saw you, I thought you were just this little pretty thing. You were wearing this white dress or whatever, and you were just standing there under the sunlight.” You have no idea what he’s talking about.

You feel a little more sober. “Are you… disappointed now that you’ve gotten to know me better?”

Sanzu perks up at your question and shakes his head from side to side, over and over again. You throw your head back and laugh. He’s adorable when he’s inebriated.

“I like independent women,” Sanzu says.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that Sanzu isn’t looking you unabashedly in the eye like he normally does, but you slide to the edge of your seat and lean your head on his shoulder.

As expected, Sanzu tenses up and shoots you a hesitant glare. Somewhere in the back of your head, you know that you’re playing with fire, but you’ve given up on lying to yourself a long time ago. You like Sanzu, you want him, and all you need right now is closure.

Finally, you ask, “Do you like me?” You wait for Sanzu to shrug you off, to bark a clear rejection, and to leave your home. But a few moments pass, and the silence enables you to hear his shallow breaths. When he continues to remain still, you look up at him.

Instead of seeing a scowl, Sanzu’s face is flushed pink, and the tips of his ears are a cherry red.

“Sanzu?” you breathe.

Nothing.

“Don’t tell me that you’re so drunk that you have paralysis.”

You get out of your seat and head towards the bathroom to grab a warm towel. You pout as you wring the towel out. You were expecting a straightforward answer from Sanzu, but his lack of one is getting your hopes up.

When you return, Sanzu is slightly hunched over while he scrolls through his phone.

“Are you feeling better?” You approach the pink-haired man. He looks up, and you take this chance to hold his chin up with one hand and wipe his forehead with the other. Sanzu sits there, unmoving and basking in the warmth and gentleness of your hold.

Sanzu decides to act when you begin to retract your hands. He reaches for the wrist holding the wet towel and pulls you in until you’re standing between his legs.

“I do.” He speaks so calmly yet so confidently, and it takes you a few seconds to process.

A wave of relief, sadness, and adoration overwhelms you. You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the rough pads of his fingers wipe at the corner of your eyes. You blubber an apology or two, but you only begin to sob harder. Still vigilant of Chizu, though, you attempt to muffle yourself by placing the towel over your mouth.

Sanzu pulls you onto his lap and continues to brush away your tears. His expression hasn’t changed, but it’s the most serious he’s ever looked in front of you, and that’s all it takes for you to break down and hand him the broken pieces of your heart.

–

You wake up with a gasp. You sit up, accidentally throwing off the arm that’s wrapped around your shoulders, and gulp deep breaths.

Sanzu wakes up, too, and groans unhappily.

“What are you doing?” he croaks. “Go back to bed.”

“I would -” You cough a little and rub at your throat. “I would if someone wouldn’t hold onto me for dear life.” You continue to gulp deep breaths before you lie back down. This time, Sanzu’s arm slips down and wraps itself around your waist, dispelling your disgruntled expression. He mumbles something along the lines of “Better now?”, and you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck in return.

Sanzu yawns. “Is Chizu staying home today?”

“She has a sleepover tonight, so I’ll drop her off in the afternoon.” You’re falling back asleep so your voice trails off at the end of your sentence.

Sanzu is, too, but he manages to say, “I’m glad she’s having fun,” before he’s out like a light.

Because Chizu was out for the weekend, you spent your Saturday grocery shopping and deep cleaning the apartment. Sanzu was also busy with work, but he said he would be back at night.

Just the notion of the two of you being alone makes you nervous, and you slip a few times on the wet kitchen floor when you lose yourself in the thought. You’re excited and nervous, eager and yearning, but hesitant and self-conscious. A large part of Bonten’s operations occurred in underground nightclubs and bars, so Sanzu has seen his fair share of charming girls. You’ve never been insecure about your body, even after having Chizu, but the possibility that you can’t compete with Sanzu’s previous flings sends a nauseating ache to the pit of your stomach.

When Sanzu arrives just in time for dinner, the anxiety persists, but you’re grateful that he doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, Sanzu acts normal. He complains about his colleagues and the inflation of gas prices; he cusses and mutters colorful insults at the coffee table when he stubs his toe; and most importantly, he only touches you when you initiate.

That’s something you never expected from him, truth be told. Sanzu, though caring in his ways, is brutish. Demanding. While you hoped he wouldn’t take you by force, he hasn’t asked you for any physical affection, and you like to take pride in the fact that he treats you with unspoken respect. Only when you reach your arm out onto the dinner table does he hold his hand out to intertwine your fingers together. When you’re watching some comedy show on the bed, he ruffles your hair when you poke his shoulder. Even after kissing him, he simply holds your hip before letting you go as you pull away.

“Did that feel alright?” you whisper.

Why do you feel so ashamed? You’ve kissed people before. You’ve been loved before. So why is it that you can’t bear to look at Sanzu?

Sanzu lets out a snort and proceeds to kiss you again.

“Did that feel alright?” he mocks, smirk and snark crystal clear in his voice. “Of fucking course it did.”

To others, his response could’ve been entirely inappropriate. To you, however, it was hilarious. You crack up, letting out staccato huffs of laughter, and you feel the corners of your eyes crinkle up.

“Now you know how ridiculous you sound,” he says. Sanzu chuckles under his breath before setting your laptop on the night table and moving you over so that he’s now hovering over your body.

He asks, “What else are you worried about?” He’s still smirking, confident in his ability to rid you of your worries, and your self-esteem begins to return as well.

“I was just overthinking,” you admit. You gesture a little bit, trying to find the right words to explain, but you end up smiling sheepishly at Sanzu.

Sighing, he shakes his head and pinches at your cheeks. “Don’t.”

You laugh again and encircle your arms around his neck, pecking him to express your gratitude. But this time, his hand sneaks up your back and holds you at the base of your head. Unable to move, your eyes widen in surprise, and you release a cry that gets swallowed by his lips and tongue. Sanzu continues to steal your breath and voice, and when he releases you minutes later, you’re stunned silent.

You feel light-headed, and the burning in your cheeks and inner thighs is growing hotter with every passing second. Sanzu observes your flushed face for a second before he grins, diamonds creasing into dimples.

“Look at you,” he mutters, “all riled up.” He searches for your eyes until you two are looking at each other. “Let me eat you up, angel.”

Your breathy plea is all he needs before he pulls you in for another heated kiss.

–

Sanzu is greeted with a shrill whistle.

“Someone’s glowing today.”

Sanzu side-eyes Ran but continues his brisk walk to the conference room.

“So when did the two of you get together?” Ran probes with one eyebrow quirked. “She’s a really sweet girl. I hope you’re taking care of her.”

Sanzu grunts and opens the door. Most of the Bonten executives were in their assigned seats around a round table, save for him and Ran.

“Let’s start,” Takeomi says as he taps the spine of a binder twice on the table. A map is already projected onto a whiteboard, and certain regions are circled in red. “There have been a few fights in Kabukicho these past two weeks, and some club owners want us to increase security. I’ll designate oversight of this area to Rindou and Kakucho.”

“Why the two of us?” Kakucho asks.

“I’ll get to that in a second. First, look here.” Takeomi points at another red circle located near the Yokohama port. “Someone has been stealing our firearms before they get exported. There have already been two reports on separate occasions.”

Koko speaks up. “Have we recovered any of the stolen goods?”

Takeomi shakes his head and replies, “There’s a high probability that the culprit is stealing from us so they can increase their sales. We did manage to find out that this person escaped via car both times, and the vehicles they used were originally from the Kabukicho area.”

Mochizuki scoffs. “We can’t even catch a person who runs away with a shitty car.”

“That’s why I’m putting two people on the case. Rindou will watch over Kabukicho, while Kakucho monitors the roads that go into the district.”

“There’s no guarantee that they’ll go back to Kabukicho, though,” Kakucho says.

“Rindou, your main job is to find the stolen firearms. Track down any of the buyers and see if they have any information on the culprit. If you find anything interesting, tell Kakucho immediately.”

“I don’t see why we should waste our time on this,” Mochizuki argues. “There’s plenty of folks who would throw themselves at this job to get promoted in Bonten.”

Ran interjects here. “If I remember correctly, Mochizuki, you and your men are in charge of Yokohama, right?” Sanzu rolls his eyes, already foretelling how the rest of the meeting will unfold. “If I’m right, then isn’t this mess a result of your men’s incompetence?”

Mochizuki growls. “My men are perfectly capable.”

“So does that mean you’re taking responsibility for this problem? Are you admitting that you and your men have been careless?”

Mochizuki knocks over his chair as he shoots up from his seat. He is only stopped by Mikey’s raised hand.

Mochizuki mutters, “I apologize, Mikey.”

Mikey utters a singular command. “We will follow through with Takeomi’s preliminary plan. If it turns out that the culprit is not in the red light district anymore, then Kakucho should expand his search to nearby neighborhoods.”

Everyone nods, and Takeomi adjourns the meeting.

They file out of the conference room, leaving only Sanzu and Kakucho who holds him back.

“Sanzu, I can look over her while I’m in the area.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not a good use of your time to be driving around Tokyo. You need to stay in Shibuya.

“Your partner lives near Kabukicho, right? Tell her to stay safe.”

Sanzu’s anger bursts. He grabs Kakucho by the collar and snarls, “Don’t tell me what to do. Everything’s going great in Shibuya, and she’s safe with me.” Kakucho stares back, and Sanzu stalks out of the room.

Sanzu’s frustration is interrupted when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He pulls it out and sees a text from you. It’s a picture of you and Chizu. You’re both sitting on top of a white canvas spread across your living room floor, and there’s clay splattered all over your clothes. Some of it has even gotten into your hair. A short moment later, you follow up with another photo of Chizu’s artwork and an attached message: “Art project failed successfully? Guess I’ll need to buy some more clothes, haha!”

Snorting under his breath, Sanzu replies: “Let’s go shopping next weekend.”

A few seconds later: “Sure! I want to check out that large department store close by.”

Sanzu smiles. “Sounds good. See you in a few, loser.” He pockets his phone before heading towards the garage.

–

When you mentioned “a large department store close by,” he didn’t think it would be one in Kabukicho. The smuggler still hasn’t been caught, and while Sanzu’s pretty sure no one would start a fight on Bonten territory out in broad daylight, he knows he has to be careful.

“Where’s the brat? Is she not coming with us?”

You roll your eyes at Sanzu before chirping happily, “Chizu’s having another sleepover! Same girl as last time. I think they’re becoming really good friends.”

The two of you continue to make small talk throughout the rest of the day. You meander around the mall, dropping into shops to replace the clothes you sacrificed for your daughter’s clay pot. Sanzu would follow you around but waits for you outside the stores instead. He isn’t interested in anything in the first place, but more importantly, it’s the only way he could keep watch. No one has updated him on the smuggler’s location either, so he’s erring on the side of caution.

“Sanzu, is something wrong?”

Your voice breaks his concentration. He was glowering at his phone, waiting for a text or a call or anything, and he didn't notice you come out.

“Just work. Do you have everything you need?” Sanzu says as he takes the shopping bag from your hands.

“I need to go to one more store, but that’ll be it.” Your boyfriend nods and gestures to you to lead the way.

You take an escalator up to the third floor. Sanzu looks around, observing the groups of people filtering in and out of shops, the music playing from speakers scattered across the hall, and signs that read “Exit closed” and “Caution.”

He glances back at you. You’ve entered a home furnishing store and are checking out kitchenware, arms folded and eyes squinted as you judge stainless steel. You find one that you seem to be considering, and he scoffs out a laugh when he sees you knocking the pan bottom and listening with your ear close to the handle. He feels a rush of adoration when he sees you find a set you’re satisfied with, and suddenly he wishes he had recorded the moment.

When you return, he brushes strands of hair away from your face before taking the new bag and adding it to the small collection strung on his arm. You furrow your brows, reaching out to grab the bag and maybe a few more back, but Sanzu promptly turns away and begins striding toward another store. You huff in protest, but the smile tugging at the corners of your lips gives away your gratitude.

“Is there any place you want to go to?” you ask.

He still hasn’t received any communication from Kakucho or Rindou, and he’s not sure if the lack thereof is a sign that the situation hasn’t escalated or that the two are so busy because the case is becoming more dire than they had expected. Regardless, Sanzu has learned to hone and trust in his instincts, and something in him is telling him that it’s time to leave. He cannot be out in the public eye for too long, anyway.

“No, I think it’s time we head back,” he replies. You hum in agreement, and the two of you walk towards the exit of the department, not without continuing to bicker over who should carry your shopping bags and discussing ideas for dinner.

When you enter the parking garage, though, it’s eerie. Too still for a department store that’s packed with people. Too quiet when the lot is parked to the brim. Only your talking about the bakery and how business is doing echoes throughout the garage, and Sanzu tries his best to find your car as soon as possible.

When he spots your compact, he tugs at your hand that he’s holding onto.

You pause from the abrupt gesture, but Sanzu looks back at you with urgency: Keep talking. You swallow with difficulty but resume. In fact, you don’t stop speaking until Sanzu starts backing out of the parking spot.

You look at the side view mirror to your right, and at first, you see nothing out of the ordinary. No men in suits or guns out in the open or anything. But then a flash of red catches your eye. You follow the beam until you reach a small red dot shining on the cover of your glovebox.

Your eyes widen, and you’re about to scream. Until Sanzu slides a hand over your leg and pinches.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Through gritted teeth, Sanzu eases the car free and makes his way to the exit. The red dot disappears, but you’re not sure if it’s really gone.

Only after you leave the lot does Sanzu speak up again. “You’re going to need a new car.”

–

You feel your knees buckle at the sight of your home. The journey back took hours, with having to take several detours in case you were being followed, finding a replacement car for you, and reporting to Kakucho and Rindou.

Sanzu’s hands grip your underarms, supporting your entire weight and carrying you into your apartment.

You mutter apologies under your breath, and he grunts and huffs in response. He doesn’t let go until he heaves you onto your bed, and even with the support of your mattress, you feel like you’re about to keel over.

What… happened today?

Was I about to die?

I was going to die.

Sanzu just kneels in front of you. In the corner of your eye, you see his hand reach out and twitch, but it falls to his side in reluctance.

This silence would have persisted had it not been for Sanzu’s phone and its loud rings. He tugs it out of his pocket – a glance at the screen, and you see that it’s a call from Kakucho. Quietly, your lover pads out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to take a call.

“What is it?” Sanzu’s voice is rough, even slightly strained. You hear scratches and buzzes of noise, unable to discern what Kakucho is saying.

“For fuck’s sake, I already said we’re fine.” Pause. “I didn’t need your help. Hell, I think you should be more worried about Rindou because he can’t seem to fucking do his job.” More murmurs from Kakucho. Suddenly, a bang. “I have it under fucking control!”

Your body reacts, and you run to your door to see what the commotion is. Sanzu’s back faces you, and one of your dining chairs is on the floor. He’s cursing Kakucho out for both his meddling and incompetence, tugging at his hair and itching at the diamond scars at the corners of his mouth.

As you watch, the scene begins to fade away, as if the noise is being drowned out by water and the fluorescent brightness of the kitchen lights saturates your vision. Ironically, your body feels light and floaty, and you’re viewing everything from an omniscient point of view.

You’ve felt danger before. When your parents kicked you out, leaving you to fend for yourself. When your ex raised his hand at you – sometimes you can still remember the sting on your cheek. When you gave birth to Chizu – the anesthesia kicked in too late, and you really felt like dying then.

But… this?

Whenever you close your eyes, the image of that red dot plagues you. Unblinking, harsh, bloody. You’ll never forget it for the rest of your life.

And it wasn’t even pointed at Sanzu. Not that you would want your lover to be in danger, but it’s clear that your safety is now compromised. And if you become a target, they – whoever “they” is – would discover Chizu.

Oh, God, please not Chizu –

“Sorry for knocking down your chair.”

Sanzu’s voice brings you back to the present. Soul returning to your body, you try to remember how to look at him. It takes a while, but when you do, you struggle to discern the emotions in his eyes. Or rather, the lack of any such emotions. His blue eyes are darkened with nothingness, void of any warmth or life or happiness.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about,” he says. His tone is that of a businessman discussing logistics and contracts, devoid of any sympathy or concern, but the two of you are in your little, messy kitchen next to a faded wooden kitchen table and an excuse of a living room that is packed with Chizu’s crayons and drawing pad and the walls of an apartment that have only heard your cries at 3 AM because you’ve worked so goddamn hard to be happy and –

“Please not right now.” The words come out wobbly and weak, and a spark finally returns to Sanzu’s eyes. You’ve tried hard to wear indifference at all times, so you can’t imagine the expression you must have on your face.

Next thing you know, he’s carrying you back to your bed, closing your door with a push of his foot, and gently laying you down.

He whispers, “I’ll do anything to make it up to you. But right now, please just let me have you.”

You beg, “I need you.”

Sanzu kisses away at the pathetically large globs of tears that roll down your heated cheeks. He peels off your clothes before throwing them down onto the floor. He lets his hands wander and grab and knead at your skin, leaving bruising marks of pink and purple. He fills you up, and the room reverberates with his pants and your desperate pleas for more. And even when you finish, he keeps going, as if his desire could never be satiated, and you see flashes of white and red and nothing.

–

Sanzu can’t tear his eyes off of your sleeping form. Usually, he’d admire the damage he’d done to you and your body, but the dried crust and permanent frown on your face extinguish his pride.

He doesn’t know how to feel. He has a decisive character, yet even his strongest trait is failing him in this crucial moment. He doesn’t know how to proceed. There would be no right time to talk to you. There would never be a right time to see you so shell-shocked and crestfallen. There would never be a reason for Sanzu to hurt you.

He doesn’t have it under fucking control.

He manages to roll over onto his other side and is faced with your LED clock, the numbers indicating that it’s still early in the morning.

Time solves all eventually, right? But what would the solution look like in this case?

His gut drops. There is no other way to keep you and Chizu completely safe.

And suddenly, he’s feeling too much.

He cries and cries and cries. He’s sobbing while biting down on his chapped lips, which causes you to stir in your sleep, but you don’t wake. He hates showing weakness in front of others, but he bargains with himself to allow just this one time and brings you into his embrace.

In reality, though, once isn’t enough – he will never have enough of you. He wants all of your evenings, sunrises, homemade sugary desserts, breathless kisses, and gentle smiles. He wants to be there to accompany you on every grocery run and shopping trip because he knows you’re used to doing everything by yourself. After all, you’re busy with your new job, and he can spare an extra hour or two to help out – that’s what partnerships are, a give and take, back and forth. Besides, he’s promised Chizu he’d be there for her, so even if you didn’t want him anymore, he can’t go back on his word, right?

He sighs.

Who the fuck is he kidding?

Your relationship has never been a partnership. He’s always taking from you.

At first, you seemed so… immovable. So put together, he didn’t think you wanted another person in your life. But then you two naturally gravitated toward one another, and Chizu, being the loud mouth that she is, also held his heart hostage. He became a part of this little family, and for the first time, he wanted to be a more responsible person because you gave him reason to.

But it’s too late to change the worst parts of himself. Intentionally or not, he’s never been one to keep promises.

“Trust me,” he whispers into your temple, “I’d stay if I could. I really would.”

Sanzu knows he’s cursed to live a rotten life in the shadows. It’s probably some sort of karmic debt he’s accumulated from all the shit he’s done in his past lives, so as much as he loves you, he’s helpless to his fate. He can’t walk away from the ball and chain that is his past, and he’s too entrenched and entangled in the life he’s living now.

There is no other way.

He knows.

So he clasps your hands tightly one last time, praying to the heavens above for your and Chizu’s happiness and safety, before he prepares to leave.

–

The next morning, you notice that where Sanzu once was, sits a box with a note folded on top of it.

You already know.

Though you can’t help but still reach for the box, desperate for any trace of your lover.

Inside sits a thin wedding ring. There is no matching band.

I’ll always be yours.

You slip it on your fourth finger and admire it under the faint sunlight that streams into your room.

Maybe if you didn’t care so much.

Maybe if the two of you had met at another time or another place.

Maybe if you two were different people.

Maybe in another life.

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

The hyperfixation demons are screeching at me to write a comprehensive list of all the reasons I like Fukutora, so today I present to you "Ant ignores their responsibilites and spends several paragraphs explaining why Fukutora is peak despite them having roughly 10 seconds of shared screen time"

1. Contrasting Personalities In general their personalities fit together really well— Fukunaga barely speaks while Tora exclusively shouts at max volume and can't stfu to save his life, Tora's overly-intense and takes everything way too seriously while Fukunaga's cracking jokes in the middle of important games, they're even literal opposites on the court as the two wing spikers. Their differences compliment each other perfectly and because of that I think they'd grow a lot being together, Fukunaga would learn to open up and Tora would mellow out. Another good contrast is how Tora's all about looking cool and standing out while Fukunaga tends to blend into the background, which leads into my next point...

2. MY ROMAN EMPIRE (aka chapter 309) I know it's only two pages out of a 33 chapter match but i dont care, this scene makes me feral. I read the manga after watching Dumpster Battle, so imagine my suprise when my two favorite losers had a moment THAT GOT CUT FROM THE FUCJIGN MOVIE (I'm still salty, it should've been a full season).

Anyways these pages rooted their way into my brain because they show that even though Fukunaga goes unnoticed by most people (both in-universe and by readers) Tora realizes how great he is, and not only respects his play style but views him as a rival on the same level as himself. One thing I appreciate about Tora is that despite him being the stereotypical "strong manly athlete" type he doesn't think his methods are the best or only way of doing things; Fukunaga scoring points without "big fanfare" is just as cool as the shit he and Tanaka pull off. The phrasing "that I hafta surpass" could even imply that Tora sees Fukunaga as more than an equal, as someone who's ahead of him since he doesn't need to be flashy or loud to do amazing stuff.

Look at his smile on page two, bro's just excited to have someone who motivates him to keep pushing himself. And as we've learned from Kagehina: what's gayer than a rivalry?? All in all I think it's sweet that Tora notcies his efforts and admires him when few others do. Side Note, I've seen a translation of these that call them "Nekoma's Wings" and I think that's a sick nickname.

3. Bi Tora and Internalized Homophobia I love a good internalized homophobia arc, and characters like Tora that center so much around girls and manliness are some of the most fun to explore them with imo. You could say he's one of the least likely characters in hq to be queer since he's THE woman-lover next to Tanaka and Noya (and Yachi) but that's what makes it interesting—his gay awakening would hit like a tsunami and send him into life-ruining bi panic for months, especially since he's already such a mess when it comes to romance. He gives me the vibes of someone who has no problem with other people being gay but struggles when it comes to himself since it clashes with his conception of what it means to "be a man" or whatever. My point is he'd have the most intense no homo phase to grace this earth and I think that's both super funny and compelling for his character.

Also as a bi person myself it's kind of frustrating how bisexuality is treated online sometimes. It's annoying when a person's queerness is negated the moment they show attraction for the opposite gender, so headcanoning a character like Tora as a bi while still being openly into women makes me happy.

4. The Stage Play They're so silly in the stageplay. Why is he dragging him around by the feet? Why are they screaming at Kenma? Why is he constantly bopping him on the head in the background? WHY IS HE SERVING FACE IN THE PROMO PICTURES? So silly.

(Ignore how blurry these are lol) 5. Ant's Little Sister Bias This is a me thing, I like ships where one party has an annoying little sister who bothers them, sue me. Its cute. Akane and Fukunaga could have the most adorable friendship if you believe.

6. They Match Each Others Energy My first post about them was me rambling about this so just read that, TDLR they're both energetic menaces who match each other's freak.

7. Kenma's Forced Third-Wheel Purgatory Putting Kenma in a situation where Kuroo's graduated and his closest remaining friends are dating and constantly forcing him to third-wheel is just about the evilest thing you could do to the guy. He may be one of my favorites but this is well-deserved punishment for his crimes.

8. Baffled x Baffling Another ship dynamic I like a lot is when one person is unabashedly weird and the other thinks they're a total freak... but likes them anyways. They don't know why they like them. They can't explain it to anyone. Whenever the person does more weird shit they're like "why tf do I like you." But even so they're whipped as hell. Anyways Tora barely understands a single thing Fukunaga does and I think that makes for a funny crush to have.

9. Fukunaga's "Current Concern" Don't have much to add here, it's just proof to me that they hang out idc. Like why are you concerned about what he wants?? Kinda gay dude. Big fan of Fukunaga whispering to him and Tora answering at full volume so other people hear a one-sided conversation.

10. These Fics Before I knew this ship was even a thing I stumbled on these fics while browsing the Fukunaga tag, that's what got the gears turning:

• My favorite one, third-year shenanigans • Peak, need to be signed in tho • College AU • This one is mostly gen Fukunaga but the few moments they have are perfect (also really fun Nekoma interactions overall)

11. Other Miscellaneous Thoughts • Both of them being public figures/lowkey famous in timeskip is cute, like imagine them being each others' biggest fan before they make it big.

• Chef x guy who eats a lot is peak fiction. In this case they both eat a lot. Their grocery bill is a horror story.

• I know it's because characters are usually grouped by year and Kenma ditches them to sit with Kuroo but they're always together in the stands, pretty gay if you ask me

• I hc Fukunaga as genderfluid so Tora still gets his chance to be a wife guy. Him and Tanaka ranting to each other while Kiyoko and Fukunaga drink tea in peaceful silence.

• I think Fukunaga's the type to enjoy people watching and Tora's always doing something dumb. Observing him like a little bug under a microscope

• They're both so silly looking, cartoony ahh designs. I just think they'd make a funny couple visually, they're so square and stick to me if that makes any sense lmaoo

If you got through this whole post you're a real one, thanks for reading to my brain dump. I think about them every day and need more people to understand the vision

[diejager]

...i mean i have plenty of dark ideas with makarov but i mean... i kinda want to know on your thoughts with makarov and a reader who's equally dark/cunning. match made in hell basically

котёнок (A/n):I read a bit about him, but I can’t say that my portrayal of him is faithful to the game.

A fucking match made in hell. He doesn’t love easily, nor does he devote himself to someone as much as he did with Zakhaev often, but once he does give you this deluded level of love and devotion, it’s yours until he dies. In his mind, anything goes, shooting his only friend, bombing civilian areas to kill off one enemy, or trafficking as a source of money. Vladimir Makarov had no limit when it came to what he believes in.

He might be unpredictable with his acts and strict with his decisions, but that - by no means - meant that he didn’t like to play games, despite everything that went on in his life, Makarov loved games. He liked playing with his enemy, making it seem like they were ahead of him, only to disappear, being ten feet ahead. But then you appear, foiling his plans left and right, seeming to play right into his hands, moving as he predicted, only to outplay him, smirking his way as you strut away. He was mesmerized, the sight of the woman who had tricked the devil, clad in black and smile as sinfully cunning as his.

Makarov called you his котёнок —his kitten. He watched you in admiration, hungering for any moment with or against you, a gem in the corrupted world he lived in. He loathed that you weren’t working with him, standing beside him with that beautifully, cruel sneer you gave anyone who disappointed you. You didn’t follow the good or evil side, uncaring of who worked for the betterment of the world - he’d seen and heard you fucking up the 141’s attempts as you did with his - you only followed the wining side, the one who had the money to show and the hand to control it.

For months, he tried his luck, sending messages to you in many way, both nefarious and quiet, anything to contact you, anything to have you on his side; and when he had you working with him, striding to him in all your confident glory, he couldn’t be any prouder. Makarov had another asset up his sleeve, one more important than others, he cherished you, he devoted his time to you and he love you in his own twisted way.

If his котёнок wanted to play, he would play. He would back you up in every decision you mad, the jobs you took, the deals you signed. If you wanted to burn down the world, he would do it with you; if you wanted to bomb a public building, he would provide you the explosives; and if you wanted a hand in rebuilding the world in your image, he would help you, lead the men that worked under him and push your ideals.

Makarov didn’t just love you, he was obsessed, addicted —he was devoted to your being, cunning and devious. He might pull a few strings in the dark, but you were a danger on your own, giving your rivals and enemy a run for their money, and he loved that. You controlled the room when you sat down, your nails cackling on the table eerily as you stare down the people across from you, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, a stoic mien before cowering men.

He would sometimes stand behind you, acting as the looming shadow that added to your scary image, or he’d take up the seat beside yours, head tilted up with his arms crossed, the image of a confident tyrant, poised and powerful. You were a dark pleasure, sly and opportunistic, and he, a wicked and cunning man, portraying his ideology through his spread of terror.

“My sweet, sweet kitten,” he whispered in Russian, pressing his lips to yours, kiss feverish and rough, all teeth and domination. “Tell me, what is it you want?”

Tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[discotitsposts]

i do

spencer reid x fem reader

spencer asks you to marry him and you get married in a quick ceremony (set in like season 11 in my mind)

a little short but silly and fun and i love happy spencer he deserves it

his ass looks so juicy here

—————

Spencer had been nervously shaking all morning. You were really worried about him. Why is he acting so strangely? You wondered while drinking your own coffee.

“Spence, anything the matter love?” You ask softly as you set his mug of coffee down on the table in front of him.

He just lifts his head and reaches into his pocket nervously. He slowly gets down on one knee in front of you. You realize where this is going and gasp. He pulls out a small black velvet box in the shape of a heart.

When he opens it carefully, there sits your dream ring. It’s absolutely beautiful.

“Will you marry me?” Spencer asked tears flowing from his eyes.

“Yes! Of course I will Spencer!” You jump excitedly.

“I know a pastor that can marry us in an hour if you’d like.”

“But I don’t wanna marry a pastor, I wanna marry you!” You pout.

“What? No that’s not what-,” Spencer starts confused.

“I’m kidding! Of course I want to marry you now!! Let’s go!!” You race to grab your phone and call the closest thing Spencer’s got to a real family. The BAU team.

The team was going to meet you down at the church. You had just snagged a wedding dress quickly from a bridal shop. It was beautiful and exactly what you wanted. You were now in an antique shop.

“Ok so your necklace is the something old, your dress is the something new. All that’s left is something blue and a penny in your shoe.”

You lift your heel so he can slip the penny in your shoe.

“What can we find that’s blue?” You keep looking and find nice cufflinks for Spencer to wear. He was currently looking at vintage suits.

“What do you think?” He holds up a dark blue suit.

“Honey I don’t think you can be my something blue.”

“I just happen like the color though.” He pouts.

“Then it looks very nice. Hey what about this?” You hold up a beautiful antique tiara littered with blue jewels.

“Beautiful. Let’s get it.” You both race to the church and change. The girls help you with your hair and makeup.

Spencer goes ahead to meet the pastor at the altar while you wait at the end of the aisle. The BAU team and a few of your friends are waiting there cheering you both on. The organist plays the wedding march and Rossi takes your arm and walks you down the aisle.

JJ’s son follows as the ring bearer.

You’re crying, Spencer’s crying, Rossi’s crying, everyone’s crying. Even Morgan.

You thank Rossi and step up. Emily, JJ, Tara, and some of your friends are bridesmaids and Penelope, being your maid of honor, lifts your dress’s train and adjusts it. Spencer’s best man is Morgan. Hotch and Will are up there with him.

Spencer takes your hand and you speak your quickly written vows. Then the pastor.

“Do you Dr. Spencer Reid, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Tears are streaming down his face.

“(y/n) do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” You’re smiling at him and squeezing his hands.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The pastor smiles proudly.

Spencer kisses you passionately. Then you throw your bouquet to the bridesmaids, Penelope catches it excitedly. Emily doesn’t even try to catch it.

Hotch throws some rice at you guys while laughing. JJ and Will are also throwing some.

Morgan shouts after you guys as you try to escape, “They’re excited to get started on the honeymoon!!”

After you guys leave he turns to Penelope, “Can’t believe the kid finally got hitched!”

That’s just what you guys did, hopped on a flight to anywhere you’ve always dreamed of going, got the biggest honeymoon suite the hotels offered, and enjoyed yourselves.

They lived happily ever after!

The End💘

————

i hope this was even a little bit fun to read, please let me know if you enjoyed.

______

tags-

@whoisspence

@lemonadeinfuser

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

@gallifreyan-idiocracy

[buckgasms]

Ok let's get some of these trailer park Bucky ideas out shall we?

- This is what I need in my life ☝🏼

- Maybe you live opposite each other and one of you is the new neighbour?

- You could be the newbie maybe and you find he's very helpful when moving boxes.

- You both flirt a little but nothing serious, just a smirk or a touch here and there.

- But alas, nothing happens beyond that, and you settle in to your new home.

☀️

- Ah but perhaps you start noticing that Bucky has a lot of female visitors throughout the week.

- You mostly only see them leaving his place, but occasionally you get a bit more than that.

- From across the way, in the late hours you hear them whimpering and whining as his trailer creaks. You might hear a hand meet ass cheek or a shrill giggle.

- It's a little annoying no infuriating

- But sometimes, if you listen really closely which you'd never admit to you hear him.

- His grunts.

- His groans.

- "That's it. Take it."

- It's the sweetest form of torture and you try to resist but sometimes it just drives you to the edge and you desperately need release, imagining his hot, sweaty body working on you.

☀️

- Perhaps one morning you are sitting out front, reading a book and he appears, waving off another woman who looks satisfied and somewhat disappointed to be sent on her way.

- You smile and try to go back to your book, but he's intrigued. And a tease.

- "Morning sugar."

- "Good mornin Bucky" you reply turning a page you haven't read a word of in your book.

- He pulls up a chair and settles next to you.

- "Wow. Our bedroom windows are pretty close to each other huh?" He remarks, a smile tugging at his lips as you clear your throat.

- "I never noticed" you say, voice clearly strained.

- He stands to leave but first leans down, right by your ear.

- "But I have sweetheart."

☀️

- You spend the rest of the day totally paranoid.

- Had he heard you? Has he seen you?

- You don't hate the idea of him wanting you, but you don't want to be a notch on his belt.

- If he's going to tease, why don't you tease right back?

☀️

- Ice lollies are your weapon of choice.

- You sit in your chair, book open, skirt short, top skimpy and a ice lolly popping lewdly from your mouth.

- He looks like he's leaving but when he catches sight of you he seems to change his mind.

- Instead he sets himself up with a beer and a pack of cigarettes and enjoys the show you e decided to put on.

- Naturally, your plan immediately backfires because damn he looks so hot.

- It's Bucky....

- He distracts you by offering a beer, which you accept once your lolly is finished.

- He distracts you by asking about your book.

- He distracts you by talking about where you are from.

- Before you know it, he's back next to you, you are feeling warm from the beer and you can't help but notice how blue his eyes are.

- But wait I am getting ahead of myself.

- Because maybe????

- One night after the "sweetheart" incident you see Bucky come home, head into his trailer and open his bedroom window wide.

- You crawl into bed and slowly push your window open, enjoying the cool air streaming into the room.

- "Can you hear me sweet girl?"

- You freeze, sweat springs up on your brow despite the cool air.

- "I know you can baby. God, you should see what you do to me. Fuck."

- Your heart is thumping in your chest. Oh god, he's going to give you a heart attack.

- "You're gonna touch yourself baby girl? Gonna think about what I might do to ya huh?"

- Despite yourself, you find yourself thinking all those things, doing all the things he says as the night goes on.

- It ends with your sweet voice calling out his name in the dark and a deep chuckle from his bedroom window.

☀️

- So...

- with all this in mind....

- After all this teasing and flirting he leans in a presses a soft kiss to your lips.

- "I wanna hear you moan for me baby. Properly this time..."

- He pinches your chin between his fingers and deepens the kiss and you instinctively wrap your arms around him.

- He breaks the kiss with a chuckle.

- "Come on sweetheart, let me give you the tour."

- The tour takes moments because you want to kiss him. He presses your body up against a wall, you can barely breathe as he dominates your mouth, hands squeezing at your waist.

- Finally you land on the bed, and he growls as your skirt flips up and reveals your skimpy underwear.

- "Such a little tease huh?"

- You watch as he unbuckles his belt, you admire his rings but swiftly get distracted by his thick cock springing towards you.

- He strokes himself but you take over, shimmying forward so you can get nice and close.

- "Oh I see baby girl, not so innocent are we?"

- His grin turns to a growl as your lips wrap around his length, fingers wrapping around what you can't swallow.

- Your chokes fill the room, as he sinks further down your throat, his hand lacing through your hair holding you in place.

- Finally he pulls you off him, smears your spit over your face before pushing you back down onto the bed.

- He rips your underwear and leans over, pushing the fabric into your mouth.

- "You just hold onto those for me sweetheart" he chuckles as he moves your legs, gripping your ankles, pressing a kiss to them as he lines himself up.

- His fat cock slaps against your aching heat. You groan around your underwear, as he rubs against you until suddenly he slides in, filling you, stretching you until your eyes roll.

- "Sweet jesus baby girl. Knew you'd be perfect for me. So tight. Takin me so well baby..."

- He presses your legs back, so he can bring himself closer to you. He pulls the gag from your mouth and presses a kiss to your lips. You try your best to return but you've lost control of pretty much everything.

- All you can feel is his cock stretching you and hitting that point inside that has been neglected for so long.

- "Wanna hear those pretty moans angel. Want everyone to hear you, let them know what a pretty little slut you are. How desperate you are for me, for this."

- He defines the word with a smooth thrust of his hips that draws a long groan from your lips.

- "Thatta girl, just what I wanted."

☀️

- It's hours of endless pleasure.

- He explores your body, working out every pleasure point, finding your secret kinks that you swore no one would ever know.

- His fingers flex in your pussy as he fucks your ass, watching as he spits on your heat. It sends you crashing over the edge again as he rubs it over your heat, a scream leaving you as tears track down your cheeks.

- "Bucky.... I can't... So sensitive" you wail as he slowly continues fucking your ass, a thumb lazily rubbing your swollen clit.

- "Not my fault angel, you can't stop coming for me can ya?"

- He still sounds remarkably put together, but he isn't. He's just as gone as you are, mesmerized by what you can do, what he can pull out of you.

- Laying out before him, you are divine.

- Your legs tremble as another wave of pleasure rips through you and it drags him with you.

- Your walls pulse and squeeze as you emit a long weak cry. It mixes with his groan, a loud curse slips from his lips as he fills you up, again.

- Finally he crashes down, dragging you in close as exhaustion takes over your body.

Like sign me up.

God I want a trailer park Bucky 🥺

[lucy90712]

Can you write a prank for gavi? Reader wearing a real madrid jersey and gavi getting sad and a lot of fluff after? Thank you!

For months on end Pablo has been pranking me and every time I say I'm going to get him back but he always manages to prank me again before I can. He's done everything from put fake spiders in the house to wiping off the kisses I give him to see my reaction. They are all relatively harmless pranks he never goes too far but still he's definitely winning this prank war if you can even call it that and I'm desperate to get on the scoreboard. 

My friends have been suggesting different things I can do to get back at Pablo but they are all either pranks he's already done on me or the same idea just slight different but that's not what I'm going for. I want something that he hasn't done to me so he won't see it coming but when he's either done every prank or has definitely seen them and has them in the planning stage things are difficult. Then the day came I saw a tiktok with the perfect prank first I sent it to my friends to see what they thought and they loved it although they warned me that if I do it I'll be coming in strong but that's exactly what I want I need to get him back properly. It didn't take long for me to put my plan in action within a few hours I had the one thing I needed for the prank on its way to me. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Today is the day my package I've been waiting for finally arrived today and I wasn't about to wait so the prank I have planned is going straight ahead full steam. Opening the package I saw the white shirt and then I saw the back with ‘Bellingham’ written on it. Putting it on felt wrong the shirt felt itchy on my skin but that was definitely all in my head as I knew I wasn't supposed to have this let alone have it on but it will be worth it to see the look on Pablo's face. In the tiktok I saw this woman had a Man City shirt on as her boyfriend was a Man Utd fan and his reaction was priceless, the second I saw it I knew this would be the perfect way to get back at Pablo. I know it's slightly different as Pablo plays for Barça and Madrid are their main rivals but I don't think it's too far it's not like I'm actually going to ever support Madrid other than the few minutes of my life I spend pranking him. 

After trying it on I took the shirt off until I heard Pablo's car pulling up in the driveway which is when I put it back on and started watching a video on YouTube about how Madrid will be unbeatable with mbappe just to really grind Pablo's gears. He came in and called for me so I told him I was in the living room so that's where he came as soon as he put his shoes away. First he saw what I was watching and he seemed confused but he wasn't mad yet. As he came closer the tv was distracting him so much that he sat down next to me before realising what I was wearing. That's when he actually started to look mad he almost seemed disgusted with me.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" He seethed 

"Oh I forgot I put this on" I laughed to seem unbothered 

"Better question why are you wearing it?" He asked 

"Just felt like it" I said nonchalantly 

"Wait does it say Bellingham on the back y/n you have it be kidding me" he said using my full name which he literally never does anymore 

"You aren't really making a big deal out of this are you it's just a shirt Pablo" I said 

"You have to be kidding me it's not just a shirt you know you're dating a Barcelona player which means you can't support Real Madrid as in our main rivals if you seriously don't see any issue here then you aren't the person I thought you were" he said walking away 

Before I knew it he'd gone upstairs and I was sat on my own feeling awful about what I'd done. I wanted to get him back I didn't want to hurt him so deeply and change his opinion of me that was never the aim. The aim was never to hurt his feelings he's never done anything like that when pranking me and now I feel like I've taken it too far and he's going to hate me. I left him alone for a few minutes before I couldn't keep going any longer and I had to tell him it was supposed to be a prank and not actually hurt him. 

When I went upstairs he was sat on our bed scrolling on his phone, he must've heard me coming as he looked up but then went straight back to looking at his phone. He was definitely mad at me but not in the way I am after he scares the life out of me by putting a fake spider in my mug in the morning he was properly mad at me. I tried to sit next to him on the bed but he moved further over and turned away from me. That really hurt I guess I was stupid to think me wearing a Real Madrid shirt wouldn't be such a deal breaker but still him ignroning me felt awful. 

"I'm sorry this was supposed to just be a prank I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or betray your trust" I said honestly 

"Why did you think this would be a good idea?" He asked finally speaking to me 

"I don't know you've done so many pranks on me and I wanted to get you back and I saw a tiktok where someone else did it and I thought it would be a good way to get you back but I realise now that it was stupid" I admitted 

"You don't really like Real Madrid right or Bellingham" he questioned 

"No of course not you know I've grown up as a barca fan and I'm sure Bellingham's a nice guy but I've never met him and I don't plan on ever talking to him I support you and the team and that's it" I said 

"Can you take the shirt off I hate looking at it" he said 

He didn't even give me time to respond before he took the shirt off for me and threw it across the other side of the room so it was as far away as possible. He then grabbed one of his shirts from his wardrobe and put it on me which brought back a bit of a smile on his face. Now that I had his name and number on my back he let me get close to him and he pulled me into his arms. Everything felt a lot better now that I didn't have that stupid shirt on and my boyfriend had his arms around me. He didn't seem as mad anymore and I wondered if he was pranking me by pretended to be so mad when he realised what I was doing but that doesn't really matter. I've definitely learnt my lesson not to prank Pablo. 

“I’m really sorry” I said again 

“It’s ok I forgive you just don’t you dare ever wear that hideous thing again” he said half joking 

“Never I’ll only wear shirts with your name from now on” I said 

“Good now you can make it up to me by staying here and cuddling all evening” he said 

“I can definitely do that” I smiled 

He held me even tighter and pressed a kiss to my cheek but that wasn’t good enough for me so I leaned over and kissed his lips. I gave him a couple more kisses before settling back into his arms some could watch a movie together. 

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Chapter 1

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Discussion of murder and physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Prologue --Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Jake made sure to put on a suit he knew was "nice enough" for the meeting. Clay would be going with him, helping him secure the deal he needed to keep Sarah and Jadah, his real family, safe, never to be messed with again. The rest of the Losers were keeping an eye on them to make sure his parents didn't try anything while negotiating. Aisha and Cougar were some of the best fighters he knew and Pooch could easily drive his family to a secure area.

"So why did you think you needed to get your sister out of the marriage," Clay asked. "I get your parents are pieces of shit, but wouldn't a marriage get her away from them?"

"Nope," Jake shook his head as he drove. "Not only would it further embed them into her life, the guy she was engaged to was a monster. I did a deep dive on him when the engagement was announced. He had a bunch of arrests for domestic disturbance, but his parents, his lawyers, got him out and always settled out of court. Apparently his parents figured marriage would help him calm down. I tried to call bullshit, got shut down, and took action."

Clay nodded, silently filing away the information, before continuing. "And you're now going to marry his sister?"

"Yup."

"What do you know about her?"

"Very little," Jake confesses. "Graduated with a Master's in Ecology with a focus on Conservation Studies. Doesn't seemed to have used it so either her family refuses to let her do anything or she just wanted to waste her parents' money, or something else."

"Going for a Master's doesn't indicate an interest in wasting money," Clay pointed out.

"Agreed, but I've got so little information on her I'm inclined to just go ahead and think the worst."

"Are you expecting to meet her when we get there?"

"Negotiations with the parents first," Jake tells him. "If that goes well, then...yeah, it'll probably be a family dinner or something."

"Alright, lets get to it, then."

"Jacob!" Cordelia, Jake's mother, was using her fake happy tone as she held out her arms for a hug. He purposefully avoids the hug and goes for a handshake instead.

"Don't be rude, son," William chides. Jake holds back from glaring at his father and focuses on maintaining his composure.

"Let's just get to business," Clay offers while taking a seat at William's desk.

"And who are you?" William raises an eyebrow at Clay.

"For all intents and purposes, I'm your son's advocate here to make sure he gets what he wants outta this deal. And that it gets put into writing and notarized."

"And what is it that you want, Jacob?" Cordelia's tone was now icy. "We're setting you up with a wife from a good, rich family. You should be grateful to us for that after nearly destroying our future."

"I want a written, notarized guarantee that, so long as I am married to this woman, Sarah and her family will be left alone. You will not look for them. You will not include them in your machinations. They will never have to worry about you or your people bothering them ever again."

"I'm sure we can work something out," William nods. "Good thing I've already got my lawyer here to go over the marriage documents."

The next several hours are spent with Clay and the family lawyer going back and forth over the wording of the official document. Jake is increasingly grateful that he brought in Clay for this part. He's a quick thinker but Clay is a tactician. He can see the loopholes, the workarounds that Jake can't. His parents attempt to engage him in conversation but Clay had advised Jake to keep quiet during the negotiations so he did. Occasionally texting the team with updates.

Finally, Clay and the lawyer shook hands. The deal is typed up and printed. Jake, his parents, Clay and the lawyer all sign. The notary had arrived an hour before, called by William. They looked everything over and added their stamp to the documents.

Jake took the contract, put it in an envelope and gave it to Clay before turning to his parents. "Okay, let's go meet my future wife."

Prologue -- Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[kjsasha]

I Wish I Could Live Again - YJH

Pairing : Ghost!Jeonghan X Female Reader

Genre : Smut, supernatural, a bit of humour and sadness, strangers-to-something.

W.C : 3K+

Warnings : Dom!Jeonghan, kind of sub!Reader, making out, fingering, oral(both receiving), unprotected sex (be wise), rough sex, cuddling (this needs a heads-up too, right?)

NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(I'd appreciate it if you could check it out too 👇)

Work hasn't really been easy these past few weeks. Fortunately, we've been granted two major projects from two of the most sought after companies of the decade but the deadlines are nearing and me being the substitute for our department's head for the time being since he's on a leave due to his surgery isn't really very efficient.

But it's not just about work; I've been exhausted for a while now with nowhere or no one to seek comfort in.

After a long day, I ran myself a much needed bath. I put on a pair of  navy blue cotton shorts and before I could grab my t-shirt to put it on, I felt a presence around me.

You know how you get a hunch when there's someone else in the room with you? But here's the issue; I live alone and it's literally around midnight right now. A shiver ran down my spine and I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat before mustering the courage to turn around.

I screamed at the sight in front of me followed by my hands instinctively covering my bosoms. A guy leaning on the wall while biting his nail nonchalantly. He seemed taken aback and checked himself as if he was supposed to be invisible.

"You can see me?", he asked with a little furrow between his brows.

"Of course I can, you thief", I said fidgeting to get my t-shirt with one hand while the other covered my chest.

"What? I'm not-...and it's not something I haven't seen before", he said gesturing towards my boobies with his head.

I hurriedly put my t-shirt on and grabbed the showpiece that was nearby.

"I'm calling the cops", I threatened him with the flower vase.

"Go ahead. Tell them that the ghost in your apartment has become visible out of thin air", he said sliding his hands inside his pockets.

"G-Ghost?", I muttered.

"Yes", he said as if it's something very normal.

"What do you mean?", now I was confused.

"That I'm the spirit trapped in this apartment. I don't know how or why you can see me right now but it has never happened before", he stated, trying to figure it out as his eyes averted to floor.

I tried to chant any holy verse that I could remember but then the guy looked at me as if I was doing something utterly offensive.

"Relax, woman. You've been living with me for about a year and a half now. I'm not gonna eat you now, unless you want me to eat you out", he said with a little smirk.

"What do you mean we-we've been living together?", colours were about to drain away from my body and the horror was visible in my eyes. The guy seemed to find it amusing.

He took three tentative steps towards me and I felt my legs backing away on its own accord. "Like I said, I'm bound to this apartment and I can see everything that goes on in here. I've seen you change, though I've been late to most but I've seen you take showers", he took two more steps, "I've seen you touch yourself", two more steps and he was right in front of me while my back was pressed onto my closet, "and I've seen you faking your orgasm when you brought that one night stand of yours", he lowered his voice as he said the last part leaning a bit near my ear.

All the fears that I had, flew away just like that.

"You perverted asshole", I gasped.

"Oh as if you wouldn't have watched me if the roles were reversed. I literally live here 24/7, what else do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know, maybe go to another room when I was clearly having some private moments?", I crossed my arms.

"Well, you always ended up in the places I was already in"

"I didn't know about your existence until now so how was I supposed to know that you were there? You should've moved away", I huffed, "What else have you seen?".

He made an expression of thinking before he spoke, "I've seen you taking a call in the middle of your little fingering session and then lying through your teeth".

"So basically all my intimate moments, you sexually starved perverted man", I said hitting him with the vase that I was still holding and he groaned.

He grabbed the vase from my hand and caged me against the closet with his hands on either side of me.

Author's Pov :

Y/N : "What are you doing?"

"I don't know how long you will be able to see me or how long I'll be able to hold you but if I don't do this now, I might regret this for eternity"

"Hm?", she forced it out of her throat and it sounded like a whisper.

"Let me feel you once, please", his face inched closer.

"Consider it just one of your one night stands if that makes it easier", his nose touched hers.

Something about him made her feel intoxicated. Like on autopilot, she raised her head up and her lips brushed his.

His right hand held the side of her neck as he pressed his lips on Y/N's and when he didn't find her pushing him away, he kissed her like he meant it. As she pulled away to breath, a small laugh escaped through her lips.

"What is it?", he asked.

Y/N : "You don't smell"

He : "Ouch, just because I'm dead, doesn't mean I smell"

Y/N : "You look cute when you whine"

"Do I?", he said as he picked her up by the back of her thighs and took her to the bed.

"Umhm", she nodded.

He put her on the mattress gently and brushed a stray strand of hair off her face.

"You're beautiful"

"Is it your way of getting inside my pants?"

"You're gonna let me do that anyway"

"Aren't you a bit too confident?"

"Maybe", he kissed her jaw and trailed it to her collarbones. She felt his teeth graze her skin but she could care less about the marks right now. His hands caressed her body and her clothes were piled up on the floor soon after.

He took one of her nipples in his mouth and bit on it lightly as his hand moulded the other all the while keeping his eyes on her face.

He kissed down to her belly to her inner thigh and before she could assess the hot electricity coursing through her body, his wet cavern licked her bundle of nerves. As he delved his tongue in her core, her back arched off the mattress and her fingers interlaced with his beautiful hair.

"Oh...god", she couldn't help but moan at his ministrations. He held her by the hips to keep her in place as his tongue did its magic. Her orgasm was on the verge of snapping when he thought now was the time to be a jerk and pull away. She tried to push his head back where she needed but he had the audacity to laugh at that moment.

"Trust the process", he said before kissing her lips. While their mouths melded together, she felt his hand near her womanhood before one of his fingers rubbed her slit. Once his digit was coated in her slick, he pushed it into her hole. After depriving her of her release, the intrusion felt delicious. Pumping it a few times, he added another one.

"Has no one been stretching this tight little cunt properly?"

As he pushed a third into her, she held onto his shoulders with a gasp. He pressed his forehead on hers, "Let it go for me", he curled his fingers, "Cum, angel".

As if on cue, the knot in her core untied and her vision almost went white by its intensity.

"This can't be faked, can it?", he showed his hand glistening in her arousal with a proud grin.

She sat up and he got on his knees.

"Your turn", she said as she held the end of his shirt to take it off.

He got off the bed and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants leaving him in his boxers. She wanted to take a moment to appreciate how divine he looked and then her eyes drifted to the bulge in his pants, "See something you like?", he quirked an eye brow.

"That needs to go", she pointed at his boxers and he just chuckled before taking it off too, releasing his dick out of its confines.

He's hard and the tip's swollen and red with beads of precum on it. She neared the edge of the bed and reached for his member. It felt heavy in her hand and she lowered her head to give it a lick. As she took the head in her warm mouth and began to suck on it, his hand went to her hair and grabbed a fistful of it. When she tried to fit in as much of him as she could until her gag reflex kicked in and tears accumulated in her eyes, his grip tightened around her hair as he groaned.

He let her set the pace and when she looked up at him, his head was thrown back, bottom lip caught between his teeth and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

The view made her want to suck him dry but her plans were sabotaged when he pulled her away and sprawled her back on the bed and hovered her.

Y/N's Pov :

"I wasn't done with you"

"I'm not done with you either", he said entwining my right hand with his and pressing it against the mattress.

His other hand guided his tip along my folds, covering it with my wetness before prodding the head in my core.

I looked down to where he was in me but he raised my chin up with his hand.

"Eyes here", he said and thrusted in when our gaze met.

He kissed me to ease the sting as he pushed it all the way in.

He pulled out a bit and pushed back in, my hand slid up from his chest to the back of his head and soon he picked up his pace.

His thrusts were deep, sweeping against my walls and kissing my cervix delectably that made my toes curl.

"Fuck, fuck, ah"

The lascivious moans and the lewd sounds that our bodies made, reverberated through the room.

The little coil at the pit of my belly was about to go delirious and my walls clenched around his length.

He : "Keep doing that and this will end a lot sooner"

I did it again intentionally and a smirk made its way to my lips when he groaned.

"Brat", he pulled his dick out making me whimper at the loss.

He turned me on my stomach and pulled my ass up before giving it a smack.

"Ah"

He did it again and the burn shot up through my body as he pushed his member back into me.

He plummeted in and out of my heat, the bed followed the rhythm and made noises.

"Oh shit, yes..... don't stop, I'm.....gonna cum", my impending orgasm was just a step away.

He pressed my face into the pillows while his other hand guided my hip.

The second one hit harder than the first and I felt light headed in my rapture as I held onto the bedsheets to try to stabilise myself.

He helped me ride out my orgasm and pulled out before turning me on my back again.

He pushed into me once more but this time a little hiss left my parted lips.

"Hold on for me, angel", he said as he began to impel me on his dick, my body moving up and down due to the force of his thrusts.

His hand squeezed my breast before making its way to my throat. The pressure wasn't painful but just enough to leave an effect. But as he neared his release, the grip tightened to the point of asphyxiating me.

I held onto his back and my nails dug onto his skin involuntarily.

The twitch of his length and the sinfully libidinous noises that he made, pushed me to my third orgasm that I didn't even know I had in me. He followed right after, spilling his load inside of me.

His grip around my neck loosened and he stilled after a few more thrusts.

His face nestled in the crook of my neck and he balanced some of his weight on his arms to not put it entirely on me. We remained like that for a bit, him resting on top of me as we caught our breaths.

He placed a kiss there before pushing himself off and out of me. As he helped me get up and get to the bathroom, a realisation hit me too late, "We did not use a condom-".

"And?"

"And you did not pull out"

"And?"

"What 'and'? I haven't been on any contraceptives lately"

He : "Are you hungry?"

"Relax, I can't get you pregnant. What are you gonna give birth to? Ghosts?", he asked sarcastically with a boyish grin and I hit him on the chest.

I stepped out of the bathroom when he walked into the room with a glass of water for me.

Y/N : "No, are you? I can make some pasta for you"

"I wish I could eat that", he laughed and my mouth formed an 'O' as I processed his words.

"But I can cook for you, I make really good stews", he added.

I lied on the bed and tapped on the spot beside me for him to join me.

As he did, I moved closer to him and he wrapped me in his arms.

"You'll not become invisible again, will you?", I asked.

"I don't know.......but even if I do, I'll still have to be here. You're stuck with me as long as you're in this apartment"

I nestled more into him.

".......Those weren't the only times I've watched you, Y/N", he spoke after a while, as if he was having some thoughts.

"I watched you cry alone because you were missing your dad (he's no more), I watched you lie to your mom about being okay when you had a fever, I watched you doubting yourself, I watched the tears roll down your cheeks when you saw a video online of an old man talking about how he has no one and I watched you work hard late into the night", I kept staring at his face as he continued looking elsewhere.

"You're a strong woman, Y/N. You're beautiful, kind and an amazing person. Please, never doubt yourself. I know my existence might not have any significance in your life but know that I'll always be here if you ever need someone to talk. I know I won't be able to tell you anything but I'll listen", I pressed my lips to his, kissing him as my tears threatened to cascade down my cheeks.

The night went on with me in his arms and I had the sleep that I haven't had in years. As the sunlight seeped in through the curtains of my window, I stirred in my slumber. But the absence of his embrace made me open my eyes.

He wasn't around.

I got up and checked the entire apartment before realising that he was gone.

He wasn't my hallucination, that much I'm affirmative about.

I can still feel his touch, I can still feel him.

I stood in front of the mirror and the marks on my skin are fresh and the sensation between my legs is perceptible enough for it to be just in my head.

I remember everything that he said and I'm sure he's somewhere around here, watching me.

I sat back on my bed and looked around.

"I know you're here.......thank you for everything you did and said last night. I wish I had talked and asked more about you. I don't know who you are but you'll always be a part of my life now. You made me feel more like home than I've ever felt. You made me happy, acknowledged...wanted...and I feel like as if I've known you forever. And you even gave me the best orgasms of my life-...why do I feel like you're smiling like a cocky bastard right now?"

Author's Pov :

"Because I am", he said.

He's here and he has been here this whole time. When she woke up, he was right there beside her but then he realised that she couldn't see or hear him anymore, he couldn't touch her anymore; everything was back to how it has been before.

"I don't know what happened to you or why you're stuck in here and I know I'm being selfish but please, be here and never leave me", she said and he could see her eyes glistening. He wanted to reach out to her but he knows he can't.

"I'll always be here"

"Watch me shower, eat, cry or touch myself but just be here. And please...be visible again", the warm tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I didn't even know you existed 12 hours ago but now I feel so attached to you. What kind of sorcery have you done on me?"

"Oh my god", she gasped suddenly and he looked at her with concern, "I don't even know your name", and more tears rolled down.

He couldn't help but smile at that.

"It's Jeonghan", he said.

"Next time, we're gonna talk more, you're gonna make me stews, we can even watch movies and then we can have sex", she said the last part almost inaudibly but Jeonghan heard.

Jeonghan : "If there is a next time, we will"

"I'm gonna go get freshened up now, you stay here", she said with narrowed eyes making him chuckle.

"Yes, princess", Jeonghan bowed her way.

She stopped in front of the bathroom door and turned around.

"Within the span of a few hours, you made me feel the warmth that I've been searching for", she said with a smile before heading in.

"And you made me wish I could live again"

Author : It's something I thought of posting before the month ends. Let me know your thoughts on it.