#and we all know that’s Arthur’s kink | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xxsycamore · 6 months ago

Text

KING'S GAME

╰┈➤ ❝ I just need to know in case…❞ ❝ In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips? ❞ - After a round of some silly drinking game, MC can't help but have certain thoughts about Napoleon and how easily he takes on the role of someone in power. Naturally, she wants to know his boundaries of it.

Napoleon Bonaparte/MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Drinking Games; Alcohol; Shenanigans; Humor; Sexual Tension; Massage; Kink Negotiation; Sexual Roleplay; Power Play; Dominant Napoleon; Dom/sub; Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Choking; Dacryphilia; Stripping; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Fingering; Begging; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare • wordcount: 6,055 • masterlist

a/n: The idea for this fic was conceived long before an event of the same theme came to Ikevamp EN... We ended up not seeing them all play together in the game so I hope this right here fixes that, maybe? I have no idea how it ended up being that long. I guess I've been looking for the right opportunity to explore this part of Napoleon's character in a smut fic, namely his feelings about being called emperor and the likes in the bedroom. Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, I know! How about we play the Ousama game? It's a popular drinking game back home, in my era!"

It's rare for MC to be the one initiating activities on game nights, so naturally, all eyes are on her. Dazai is quick to give his enthusiastic approval, wanting to know more about a game that came after his time but originates from his homeplace. Sebastian smiles in a similar fashion.

"Good pick, MC. I think our residents are going to like it. Will you please excuse me for a second?"

As Sebastian stands up from the table and dashes out of the room, someone's comment oh my god, he's totally fetching his diary, can be heard. But really, there are no hard feelings. Everyone's more than happy to welcome Sebastian at the table and see him being more open and relaxed around his masters for once. Maybe it does have to be documented.

"It's not something like Arthur's games, I assume?" Isaac directs his gaze at MC, almost pleading under the surface for an affirmative response.

She rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. As much as she hates to disappoint him…

"Erm, it's basically a game of dares… but don't worry, you can always refuse a dare!"

"That's it, if you want to take the punishment, Newt." Arthur seems ready to dance on the physicist's nerves with a complimenting chin-cupping stance, elbows rested on the table and all. Theo rolls his eyes.

"Let me guess. Refuse a dare and drink a shot."

"That's correct." MC nods before Arthur can take more liberties at orchestrating her own game, even if they happen to be thinking in the same direction. "Let me go get what we need for the game!"

By the time Sebastian is back and patting his breast pocket suspiciously, so is MC, with a handful of… chopsticks. And a fountain pen.

"So, what I'm going to do now is write a number for each one of us… Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Isaac, Mozart, Dazai, Sebastian, Napoleon, and I…so that means numbers 1 to 8, and on the ninth chopstick, I'm going to write Ousama - which means 'King' - and then we shuffle the chopsticks in a cup - Arthur, can you pass me the empty cup next to you? - then we each take one but without showing our numbers to the others. Whoever gets the Ousama chopstick becomes King and he places a dare for someone, using the numbers! Is everything clear?"

"Uh. What kind of dares are allowed?"

Napoleon nods at the direction the question originates from. "Good point. Hey, maybe tone it down with the sexual stuff. There are taken people at the table."

Arthur snaps, "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't intending to. Besides, if a dare doesn't stand right with you, you can always drink and avoid it!"

Memories of other game nights seem to flood multiple minds at once, so MC lets out a half-chuckle half-sigh and moves on. She does take a mental note of the hint of possessiveness in Napoleon's comment just now who instantly got worried about another man being prompted to touch her inappropriately. As if anyone has the balls to touch Napoleon's woman, she thinks to herself… and kind of likes the way it sounds in her head.

It's a shame that Leonardo and Comte aren't joining them tonight and are instead enjoying a more sane way of getting alcohol in their system, in some quiet corner of the mansion. And Comte is totally not smoking a cigarillo right now while talking to his old friend, claiming that he hasn't had one in forever, again. And for that matter, Jean's presence is missed as well, but sadly (although understandably) he dislikes partaking in such activities. He's a lot like Mozart in this regard, with the difference that Mozart becomes another person when he drinks some. And that person loves joining drinking games with his buddies!

"If we're all ready - here we go!"

MC gives the cup a rather unnecessary bartender-style shake, assuring the chopsticks are well shuffled and ready to make it to all the wrong hands.

Once placed on the table, a crowd of hands quickly reach into the cup and sneakily withdraw in order to hide their new secret identity, with the exception of one person who has nothing to hide.

"I'm the king. My, I wasn't prepared for this."

As Sebastian holds up the chopstick of fate high in the air for all to see, a few pairs of surprised eyes catch his own. And something like a shimmer lights up in Sebastian's ones.

For someone as unprepared as him, he surely doesn't waste time on thinking about his next move. Not at all.

"Number 6, exchange a clothing item with number 1. Number 3, take off your pants without using your hands. And number 4 must do a handstand."

"By Jove, Sebas, your fetishes are showing!" Arthur blinks, both surprised and somehow entertained by the turn of events which (in his own head) kicks him off the position of number one most perverted person around the table. Or at least for the time being. He's only smiling now because he's safe, being the lucky number 7 and out of Sebastian's fantasies.

Isaac and Theo can't say the same. They exchange a look - eyes traveling up and down each other's frames - looking for a convenient clothing item to exchange, given their different builds. Theo is done with his choice first, and he reaches over the table to undo Isaac's necktie. The smaller man averts his gaze, turning his head away as much as he can so it's not in Theo's way, or perhaps out of embarrassment, but it's over before it ever began thanks to Theo's rough but effective methods of freeing the cloth from under his collar. Using the chance coming with the shortened distance, Isaac snatches Theo's scarf in return as the most adequate thing to take.

"Aw, you two are boring." Napoleon mocks for change, drumming his fingers on the table with a smirk. Theo muses with the thin black tie in his hands, turning to Napoleon with an empty look and silently wrapping it around his forehead instead, tying it off at the side.

"Is this better?"

"Snrk. I don't know, what do we think, Sebas?"

"I approve of your new look, Master Theodorus. Or should I drop the 'Master'? I'm the King now, after all."

MC gasps, "Sebas! Oh, this game is dangerous…"

"Tell me about it. My first dare and I already have to drink. Woe is me." Dazai weeps, rising up from his seat to point at his hakama, making it impossible for him to complete the take off your pants without hands dare.

"Guess that leaves me." Napoleon sighs, pushing his chair back audibly as he stands up.

"Ooh! Go for it, Naps!"

"Good thing it went to someone who's in good shape. I bet it's a piece of cake for him."

"We'll see now." Napoleon smirks to himself, rubbing his hands together as he prepares to tackle the handstand. His eyes get serious for a second as he calculates it all, and in the next moment, his hands are flat against the floor changing the center of his weight. While he's upside down, the gravity makes his partly untucked shirt expose his abs.

Someone whistles, and MC finds herself staring. As if for the first time.

All too soon, Napoleon is back on his feet again, dusting off his palms and retaking his seat by the table. Sebastian is beaming. "I like this game. Thank you for the idea, MC."

"Thank you, MC." Mozart chimes in, for some reason, oblivious to Sebastian making history tonight as opposed to quietly observing it from the side like usual.

"Haha, you guys are welcome… so, let's do it again, shall we? Let's see who will be King this time around~!"

After the new shuffle of chopsticks, everyone seems a little more lively, a little more hopeful - some driven by revenge and some simply by the contagious evil brewing in the air.

"Who is King?"

Out of the people looking at their newly acquired chopsticks, Napoleon is the one who speaks up.

"I guess that would be me."

"It's Napoleon, huh…"

"Oh, how fitting! You were born for it, Naps."

"Haha, not really."

"My bad. You're an emperor, not a king. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

Napoleon snorts, not playing along - or perhaps his dismissing the extended apology is his way of playing along. MC raises an eyebrow, studying his reaction. Napoleon's attitude towards these things is… rather complicated, as he seems to both loathe his so-called days of glory and simultaneously accept them for what they are, a part of him. She's been confused more than once about what's a good way of navigating through the situation when the topic is brought up in their conversations. On one hand, she hates the change of expression on his face that makes her feel like winter has returned - even if it's never going to feel to her like how it felt to him, the cruel winter - on the other, she knows he hates it when people walk on eggshells around him.

But now they're all at least half-drunk and merely goofing around. No one's bothered to care about these things, and maybe Napoleon prefers they don't anyway.

"Number 5, hold three ice cubes in your mouth until they melt. Number 4, confess about a fetish you have in front of everyone. Number 2, crack an egg over Number 7's head. Number 1, give me a massage."

"N-Napoleon is a sadist!!"

"So cruel…"

And he's laughing too. Sadistic tendencies aside, his laughter sounds every bit as genuine (and loud) as MC always remembers it to be, and it's strangely soothing. Maybe she should refuse a dare just for the shot, just to drown her worries a little more… Taking a look at her chopstick again because she thinks she heard her number, she sees a 1.

Theo goes somewhere, for ice presumably, despite Sebastian's offer to do it in his stead, and Arthur follows. "Wait, I'll go for the eggs."

"Who got the fetish one?" Napoleon browses the faces of the ones left at the table to spot the flushed one. Vincent raises a hand.

"My fetish is, um… I don't really-"

"Come on Vincent-kun, we all have fetishes~"

"I think I could say… maybe… um.."

"Yes? Go on, say it. We won't judge."

"I'd love it if my partner would touch themselves and let me watch."

"That's perfectly normal, Master Vincent. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Woah, it's both very vanilla and somehow kinky at the same time..." MC muses out loud. "Oh, but nothing to be ashamed of, certainly!"

Arthur and Theo return, with the latter immediately taking note of Vincent's beet-red face.

"What did I miss? Broer?"

"The fetish dare… Don't worry, Theo, I just had a shot instead."

"Oh, that's good. I mean, no it's not! Napoleon, how dare you make mjin broer take a punishment!"

"It wasn't really- Anyway, Theo, let's shut you up now."

Theo groans, dragging on every move as if giving the ice a chance to melt as much as possible before the inevitable contact with his mouth. At last, there's nowhere to escape and he pops the cubes in his mouth, thankfully they fit.

"Okay, I've been waiting for this. Who gets an egg in the head?"

"It's me… I hate this game…"

Isaac cards his fingers through his strawberry locks, as if for one last time while they're still egg-free. In the meantime, Theo's expression twists, less out of sympathy and more because the ice begins to torture him from the inside out.

"And the executioner?"

"Master Isaac, I'm truly sorry, it's me." Sebastian raises his gloved hand.

"Ahahaha! Haha!" Mozart laughs at the turn of events seeing a servant disserving his master. Or maybe the reason behind his laughter is nowhere that complex. One thing is certain, for some reason, he always gets out of the bunch's drinking games taking no damage in the form of nasty dares and punishments.

Sebastian stands up reluctantly, then sits down again. "Should I just drink? But I have to remind, I can't hold my liquor very well, I'm afraid."

"Just get it over with. I won't be mad at you or anything."

Sebastian sighs to show a little more reluctance before committing the deed. He looks like he's trying to miss his target, but unfortunately the raw egg still perfectly lands on Isaac's head, quickly descending down his face. Isaac's grossed-out expression mirrors Theo's current agony. As someone hands Isaac a handkerchief to wipe off the sticky mess with, another jokingly calls the sight erotic…

"Alright, I'm ready for my massage. Who shall serve the King?"

Napoleon relaxes back in his seat demonstratively in anticipation. It's a bold invitation, and everyone looks up to see the chosen one.

"My king."

MC stands up, showing her chopstick marked with the number 1. She tries to mute the sound of the others' reactions in her head as suddenly her pulse speeds up.

Napoleon flashes her a grin.

"Very well. The King is expecting you."

He lifts his glass to his lips as he hasn't touched it since the beginning of the game, probably deeming it worthless with the nature of the game. Not that he's expecting to be drinking anytime soon - he's simply not the type to back out from any dare unless it's too ridiculous even for him. Maybe that's why he started to miss the warmth at the back of his throat.

As MC makes her way to where he sits, she witnesses the singular bobbing of his Adam's apple when he gulps down the liquid, and she watches dumbstruck for a second as he motions for her to take a sip if she wants to, from the same glass. Well, yes, she finished her own drink a while ago. She accepts the glass from his hold.

"Now, what kind of massage should I request? Hmm…"

Arthur's dirty remarks fall on deaf ears as MC focuses on not choking on the liquid in her mouth.

Napoleon is a giver.

But there's something damn attractive when he allows himself to take from others.

"The king orders you to rub his shoulders."

And it's damn attractive when he's commanding like that. She sees now what the others were referring to in their provocations earlier - it rolls so, so easily off his tongue when he gives an order like this. Even if it's for a stupid game, the sharp look he gives her feels rather… real.

Not that this is anything new to her. For all Napoleon's gentleness, in the bedroom, he has this side of him that colors him rather dominant. And she'd be lying if she said she's gotten so used to it by now she doesn't feel anything between her legs right this moment. Instead of being a liar, she blames it on the alcohol.

Standing behind Napoleon, MC puts her hands on his broad shoulders… and really, it's been a while since she last gave him a massage. Usually, it's the other way around, as Napoleon added it to his ever-growing list of skills, even if initially it was something he'd never done before, given his status in his past life. Now she has his shoulders all to herself to knead and push at, and she catches herself putting selfishness in the act of service. Because she can't help but have impure thoughts.

Napoleon groans. It's quiet but she catches it over the cacophony of other noises in the room coming from the rowdy bunch. They're already setting things up for the next round, and here she's still stuck on her dare. She doesn't want to go back to her seat. Maybe Napoleon can read her thoughts like he always does and offer her his lap for the rest of the night; maybe he will go further and excuse the two of them for the night-

One hand at work, she reaches the other into the cup because they tell her to, and it appears to be Isaac's turn to be King. Good for him, but bad for everyone else. Seems like it's going to be a long night…

Later in the night and a few more rounds down the line, apples have been eaten without hands, glasses have been downed, a few mounts were the targets of unpleasant substances, either deadly spicy or deadly sweet, some clothes have been removed, some eyes filled with tears - and the collective level of soberness in the room has been drastically lowered.

It's a surprise how they even managed to put an end to it before the sun came out when naturally there's always someone who didn't get a chance to take revenge on someone else. Napoleon and Theo, being the best at holding their liquor as per usual, felt it their duty to help the others to their rooms.

MC didn't have much to drink, otherwise she'd be asleep on the pile of residents by now. Not that she intended to retain some of her soberness, it simply happened - because the bubbling feeling in her chest wasn't caused by alcohol, to begin with.

Napoleon, always the caretaker. Maybe if she throws herself at him he'll carry her to her room as well.

"Goodnight, Theo, go get some sleep." The sound of him returning after separating from Theo interrupts her daydreams.

Once he sees he's all alone with MC, he offers her a smile.

"And we're the last ones again. C'mon Nunuche, let's go to our room."

"Carry me?"

MC tries her best puppy-dog eyes at him, and he tests her for a second like it doesn't work on him. He then gawks at her laziness, hoisting her up his shoulder and giving her ass a little spank. "Let's get you to bed, naughty Nunuche. Some of those guys will be mad at you for weeks, you know? But you better not give them those eyes. Only I get to see them."

"Mm…Napoleon?"

The varnished floorboards creak under Napoleon's steps as he makes his way down the hall, holding MC's weight securely. "Yes?"

"Do you really enjoy it? You know, being treated like a majesty."

It's a short trip, and MC's perspective soon goes back to normal as the floor and the walls swap their places once more before her eyes. Not that she's interested in it, so she throws herself at the bed in the next second, sinking in the welcoming embrace of the comforter, not bothering with removing it at least for the time being.

"Pfft, where did that come from?" Napoleon says while closing the door behind him. The crickets are still singing their songs under their window, it can't be that late in the night.

"From the game. For a second I was worried it left a bad taste in your mouth."

"Hmm." Napoleon fake-muses, kicking off his shoes before sinking one knee on the bed. "I think I liked it when you were the one treating me like a majesty."

"No, don't joke, tell me seriously."

"I am serious though."

Somehow they end up in this position that doesn't help resolve the tension poisoning the air around them one bit; with him caging her with his body on the soft mattress and her having nowhere else to look at but right at his penetrating gaze. Her fingers twitch, nails catching into the fabric of the comforter, seeking a sense of stability.

"I just need to know in case…"

"In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips?"

Like a spark to the kerosene pooling low in her belly, Napoleon's words make beautiful explosions bloom behind her eyelids that have fallen shut amidst the last sentence. She takes a breath but it only feeds the fire as she can't help the way her exhale sounds raspy.

"Would you like that?"

"Would you?"

MC bites on her bottom lip. "This is not about me."

"I thought you wanted to serve your King."

She averts her gaze, because if she looks a little longer at this alluring jade gaze that reeks of sex, she'll be able to feel herself losing her composure, and she's trying to have a serious conversation here.

"I do."

"Hmm." Napoleon plays with her, trailing a hand down her modest home dress, prodding at the buttons at the front. "This is bad, I don't know what to ask for first. I've lost shape."

"Liar. You were perfect at it earlier."

"Someone's been paying attention. Were you also fucking me with your eyes? Right there, at the table?"

MC takes two sharp breaths, and it resembles panting, all too soon. It's out of irritation and not arouse, not yet. When she pictured their little game, she thought she'd just have to bow her head obediently and indulge in her desire to serve. Not enduring Napoleon's verbal teasing as any other night.

"Is it that bad? Will my King punish me now as he sees fit?"

Napoleon looks at her. For all the things that may be at the tip of his tongue, MC imagines most vividly the tone Napoleon would speak them in and how much he's cut for the role. Her soul sings at the thought, but it's nothing holy.

"Get up then. Don't you think it's a little rude to be lying down in my presence?"

That's fair. With renewed vigor, she pushes herself off the bed and waits readily by the side of it.

"Remember to not look me in the eyes. It's forbidden. You'll only look when I allow you to, if I allow you to. You'll have to earn my grace."

Instinctively, MC wants her nod to be accompanied by eye contact, but she corrects her mistake before it can even take place.

"Present yourself. Take it all off."

MC blinks surprisedly at how fast things are happening but isn't against it at all. She has the feeling that he is capable of making her do all sorts of dirty things with a mere flick of his tongue, undressing for him is nothing.

She makes a show of it, despite not having many articles of clothing on her to take off seductively - before long, she's stepping out of her dress that has pooled at her feet, and she retakes her previous position.

"I'm pleased with what I'm seeing. Come closer. Kiss me."

He doesn't have to ask twice. It's something familiar and yearned for since they crossed the threshold of their room—hell, no, since they took a seat at the table for that game. It's welcoming and fulfilling and it's just what she needed-

Or so she thought, until she terribly embarrassed herself with a rather awkward and rigid pressing of lips against lips, and no movement. In her selfishness, and out of habit, she left her mouth open for Napoleon's invasion. But she's forgetting to consider that kings get tired of their conquests too.

She summons her boldness and turns the desire in her veins into fuel for action. She shoves her tongue in Napoleon's mouth, but gently, not with the intention to dominate, but rather to serve. To kiss him until he gets enough. Her tongue swirls against his own, the movement rather clumsy, the making out of a juvenile rather than that of a skillful lover… but it's what he wants. He wants to see her seduce him, use every millimeter of her body for his pleasure, and keep going until he has his fill.

A thin string of saliva connects their lips upon her withdrawal, and her eyes are shut tight. She has to keep them shut, otherwise she'll look right at him. Napoleon chuckles.

"You may open them."

She does, and the sight is not kind on her fragile composure. Locking eyes with Napoleon has never felt like this, like a privilege, and exploring this new feeling is exciting.

"You're not half bad with your mouth. Undress me and put it to use."

Heartbeat thumping in her ears, MC finds it impossible to conduct herself in that moment; to sturdy her hands into performing the task and to break her gaze from his piercing pools of jade. She starts with the shirt, more tugging at the buttons rather than precisely undoing them, before pushing it completely off his shoulders, and finally letting it fall to the floor. He's glorious with just his trousers on and that scrutinizing, almost cold gaze. She opens the fly enough to take his hardness out, and her stomach tightens instinctively.

She wets her lips and parts them, taking in the head of his cock, letting it rest on her tongue. Even when her world narrows down to the hot pulsing flesh in her mouth, she catches herself dividing her focus between pleasuring her lover and.. the position she's doing this in. There's a little bit of getting used to it being required, and it makes her realize how unfamiliar that is - her being on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and Napoleon standing upright. When was the last time they've found themselves in that exact arrangement? It could've happened once or twice before, in the heat of the moment, or when the space had limited them. But never intentionally. Not because MC has anything against it - rather, it would be Napoleon who changes the position whether he's about to receive oral. He makes sure he's at least sitting down at the edge of the bed, where MC can rest her hands on his hips, or on the bed. Where he can see her better, to check up on her. Now she has to look up to see him, and he seems so far away, or maybe her eyes are doing tricks on her, or maybe her vision is blurring because she accidentally took his cock too deep down her throat and now tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Napoleon brings his hand over her head and collects a fistful of her hair, one unfamiliar thing after another - but before intimidation can mix into her blood, she breathes in deeply, because it's not him forcing her down his cock, it's him forcing her off it.

He holds his cock firmly by the base as he directs it at her parted lips again, but doesn't breach the gap between them. He simply rubs his cockhead on the soft cushion of them, gathering the saliva that starts to droll down and smearing it back on her lips.

"A pretty mouth indeed."

MC can only look at him. She looks at him like she's looking straight at an open flame.

"Next," Napoleon begins, cupping her chin and caressing with his thumb where his cock used to be just a second ago. "I want you to go on the bed and show me the position you want to be taken in. Can you do that for your King?"

MC finally averts her gaze; it happens involuntarily, purely as a reaction to another surge of surprise and embarrassment.

"I— Yes, my King."

Napoleon angles her chin up, a signal for her to rise to her feet. Yes, that would be a good start.

The bed is just two steps away from where she is but MC feels like she can trip thrice on the way there with how much her legs have turned to jelly. Still, she makes it. There's not much room for thinking this through, for deciding on what would work out best for both of them - normally it's him who takes these decisions, anyway - so once she leans forward on the bed, she gives way to impulsivity and the way it saves her from having to give it any more thought. If she has to name the reason, it would be that it aligns with everything that Napoleon is tonight. Of course it would be fitting if he were to take her on her hands and knees.

"Does this… please you?"

She hears the rustling of clothes behind her back, probably the sound of Napoleon getting rid of his trousers, before he approaches her. He doesn't say anything about approving the position or not, and MC can't decide if his silence is worse. He comes to stand right behind her, and she crawls a little closer to the edge of the bed to make sure their skin is touching. Napoleon lets one hand roam from the fold of her knee up to the curve of her butt, and MC jumps lightly at the touch. Needless to say, she's sensitive and oh-so neglected. Her insides throb at the mere proximity of Napoleon's slender fingers close to her sex - it's a miracle she doesn't come undone on the spot as he actually directs his touch to the apex of her thighs. Wetness catches on his fingertips and he wastes little time caressing her folds before plunging two fingers inside.

"Nnghhh…" MC tosses her head, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of finally, finally claiming some pleasure but without losing herself completely in it. Napoleon twists his fingers until his open palm is facing upwards, thrusts in and out a few times in a way that doesn't intend to bring pleasure but rather to prepare - and then his fingers audibly and briskly exit her wetness.

MC whines at the loss of his fingers but finds a new fire sparkled to life inside her, and she's more than happy she wouldn't have to wait any longer for the next dose of intoxicating pleasure.

"Good girl. Do you want my cock?" Napoleon asks, openly and greedy. He's not risking having her beat around the bush by posing a more generic question like what she wants next. They both know the answer to that already.

Not that he spares her the torturous reminder of what she'll get by saying the right thing. He rubs his flushed tip on her glistening folds, pressing it in enough to just barely catch on her entrance; to make her bite her tongue and assume he just might show mercy and put it in without her pleading for it.

"I- Yes, please, Napoleon— take me, fuck me! Please…"

She only realizes once it slips out that she used his name and not the object of their little game of pretend that is his title, but there's no going back.

Napoleon doesn't punish her for it. Instead, he rewards her, giving her what she wants most. The groan he lets out as the familiar warmth and tightness enfolds his aching cock is telling of his own desperation.

MC cries out at the intrusion, only now understanding the difference of not having him finger her for longer prior to this. It doesn't hurt - she just feels a little fuller somehow. A little on edge. He gives her time to adjust, however, and she just basks into this dangerous feeling for as long as it's there until he carefully withdraws only to give it another thrust.

"Ahh!" Her insides squeeze around Napoleon again, as he goes in deeper this time. She blames the position, trying to reason out why she feels him in her guts. Napoleon withdraws again, and then pushes in, trying to fit even more of himself inside.

"You're taking me so well. I'm so deep inside you, I bet you can feel me in your deepest parts."

She groans at his words and their truthfulness as his thrusts grow rhythmic, the place where they're connected burning with the delightful friction, and her arms soon give out. She buries her head between her hands, enduring the change of angle as her rear sticks out, and Napoleon keeps pounding at her. His own sounds of pleasure are barely masked by the sounds of skin on skin, but he's not hiding them either. He lets her know how good she's making him feel, telling her something dirty in a low voice that she can barely register over the drumming in her ears.

"You feel so good- merde- Ngh. I want to stay inside you forever."

He's always holding her tightly when he fucks her, his grip being strong enough to leave marks the following day, but there's something about the way he takes hold of her hips now. At first, MC thinks nothing of it, lost in euphoric pleasure. It's only when she feels her knees being lifted off the bed that she understands what's happening.

Napoleon rises up her bottom to meet his hips, in his standing upright position, taking full control of her body in that moment. He's so strong, making it all seem effortless; and it's not a matter of matching his thrusts anymore - she can't do anything. She's facing away, with one pair of limbs immobilized and the other grasping uselessly for purchase at the covers. Her whole body rocks back and forth, feeling like a ragdoll in Napoleon's arms. There's something primal and simultaneously embarrassing about how good it feels to give herself over to him like that; about the trust she puts in him to have her completely at his mercy.

And then Napoleon stills inside her. And he groans. And before she knows it, a warm spray of come hits her walls. Her eyes widen, only now realizing they've already been going at it for a while, for a while enough that he seemingly couldn't hold back and—

And maybe he just didn't feel like waiting for her to come before he does.

The realization makes her dizzy in an unexplainable way, and she moans so loudly she feels herself pathetically falling into that bottomless fit, just like that, just as Napoleon takes his cock out of her. It's petrifying, coming without him inside her, but strangely the pleasure never ceases. His hand finds his way between her quivering thighs and shoves them apart in a quick manner, beginning to rub at her clit; whispering praises against the skin of her nape, enveloping her smaller body with his own from behind as she presses into the bed so violently, chasing after her peak.

"Come for me. Come for me and scream my name."

And that's enough to tip her over the edge. Coming with Napoleon's load inside her intensifies the feeling; the way her insides are still remembering his shape, the way she's so full yet so empty. It makes her see stars.

"Napoleon— Ahhhhh!!"

"I'm here. I'm here, mon amour."

Napoleon holds her trembling form as he draws out the last of her high, gently moving her into a spooning position. He keeps touching her everywhere, her belly, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder, caressing all the spots that went unloved in their game.

"I felt— so good I thought I might die—"

Napoleon huffs out a breathy chuckle, and it tickles the babyhairs at the base of her neck.

"I'd be lying if I said this doesn't stroke my ego, Nunuche.", he whispers, and it's somehow more shiver-inducing than anything he's said that night. "I think you might be right. I might be enjoying myself a bit too much when I'm calling the shots."

MC turns her neck just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She studies him again, with his disheveled hair and boyish smile and his low tolerance of putting up a front now that he gave voice to his most basic instinct and let it rob him of the ability to give anything more thought than he needs to. She leans in for a kiss and he takes the initiative enthusiastically but ends up drawing it out to make the remaining endorphins dance slowly between their bodies.

Letting the tiredness in her limbs settle in just like the fact that the room is several shades a brighter blue than how they entered it, MC only nuzzles back onto Napoleon's chest, trying not to give voice to the heat between her legs beginning to awake again without a sense of the time.

"And I might just love to see you like that. Mon empereur."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @my-day Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

166 notes · View notes

koralkoffee · 1 month ago

Text

Through the Long Lonely Nights

(Chapter 4/4)

Joel Miller x Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Summary- Can Arthur match Joel's freak?

AO3 Link

Warnings- 18+ | Joel Miller, Arthur Morgan, Female reader, Ellie, modern au, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - modern setting, Joel Miller/Arthur Morgan/Reader, Mid-Honor Arthur, Mid-Honor Joel?, Joel has anger issues but we know this, Joel has issues but we know this, Slow burn, age gap, pet names, masturbation, voyeurism, humiliation, dom/sub undertones, forced confessions, fingering, threesome m/m/f, manhandling, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, rough sex, eating out, blowjobs, face fucking, oral sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, penis in vagina sex, degradation, unprotected sex, hair pulling, pussy spanking, ass play, orgasm denial, orgasm delay, overstimulation, creampie

Chapter WC: 7,186

Excerpt: No excerpt! It's all SMUT!! ALL!👏 SMUT!!! ��

Corrections made by: @indiedadrock

📢Chapter is up! @photo1030, @callmekilgore, @bashfulcowgirl87, @shygamergirl01, @maladptivedaydreaming

#koralkoffee #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfic #arthur morgan #joel miller

74 notes · View notes

blondeboyfriend · 11 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Hyakunosuke Ogata x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This fic is @dolcezzzza's summer horror event, The Cabin! The title comes a Dum Dum Girls song which got its name from A Season in Hell by shitlord poet, Arthur Rimbaud. I'm not a fan, but each section of the fic starts with a line from his poem bc some of his prose kinda slaps. [ SYNOPSIS ] The summer camp you're working at is being terrorized by a unseen force that is picking off your fellow counselors one by one. [ WORD COUNT ] 15.3k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, cliche summer camp slasher film AU, murder/character death, gore, alcohol (binge drinking), suicide, vaginal sex, size kink (his dick is girthy okay), strength kink, oral sex, rough sex, facefucking, exhibitionism, biting.

Baptism enslaved me

The past week had been a blur. You spent seven days running around in the heat, trying to make an inhospitable boy scout camp into something inspired. Breaking it in was your duty as your group was the first of the season. The trappings of a long, snowy winter and a violently wet spring lingered around the facilities. Your arms ached from clearing out fallen branches and musty piles of decayed leaves. Your clothes were constantly mottled with cobwebs and dust. Every night when you collapsed in your twin-sized cot you debated on running through the woods towards the highway seeking salvation in the form of a kind motorist.

That’s why you hoped you would spend your last child free morning in the comfort of your cabin. And yet there you sat, listening to the camp director droned on. You melted in the midday sun with your back against a tree, a pitiful attempt to shelter yourself under its leaves.

“I’m gonna die out here,” Shiraishi, your partner for the summer, moaned.

He too was slumped by the tree, his head hanging down limply. You flicked him in the shoulder with your thumb and forefinger.

“You can’t die. Mr. Tsurumi still hasn’t told us what group we have,” you whispered.

“I think you can handle them on your own.”

Sugimoto turned his attention towards the two of you. His cheeks flushed from sitting in the sun. He didn’t seem to mind bathing in its rays.

“Can you at least pretend to pay attention like me?”

His words barely registered. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. A dusting of tan freckles spread across the bridge of his nose, elevating his boyish looks. He was the only one who got cuter after a week of hard labor.

“Sure,” you said, mind still occupied with the slope of his nose.

“Unfortunately our lead counselor will not be joining us for the first couple days of camp.” The director wiped sweat away from his brow. “I’m sure all of you have heard about Yūsaku’s unfortunate… situation.”

“We heard alright,” Usami snickered.

Yūsaku had forgotten to reapply sunscreen and got scorched from head-to-toe. The golden boy’s pained groans persisted through the night as everyone attempted to sleep. Yellow blisters ballooned on his skin, marring his pristine complexion. You tried your best not to think about his affliction.

“But I know we will persevere in his absence. I have high hopes for this summer. Let’s make it a good one.” He smiled warmly. “The campers will be arriving in two hours. Your coordinators, Mr. Koito and Mr. Tsukishima, will have your rosters and itineraries for the week.”

Tsurumi said his goodbyes and strided away to his quarters. You stood up slowly, stretching your arms above your head.

“I feel… like we’re missing people,” you said, twisting your waist. “Where’s your partner?”

Sugimoto looked around and shrugged. He was paired with Ogata, easily one of the most enigmatic people you knew.

“Well there’s Tanigaki,” Shiraishi yawned. “Inkarmat’s with him too.”

Tanigaki’s burly form crested the hill. He looked ashamed, like a puppy three seconds from getting kicked down the stairs. Inkarmat followed close behind with a cooler expression. She looked refreshed and practically glowed.

“Did we miss anything important?”

Sugimoto looked at him with big, sad, wet eyes and sniffled. “Camp got canceled. We’re getting sent home with no pay.”

“And it’s all your fault, like specifically yours,” you said with a glare.

Shiraishi mirrored your expression. “Mr. Tsurumi said your name.”

Tanigaki’s eyes briefly widened before adopting a more stern state. You knew he bought it for a millisecond.

“Am I in trouble for anything?” Inkarmat asked, laughing. She was unflappable.

“No. You’re not being held accountable,” you replied.

“Just in time for Women’s History Month,” Shiraishi added cooly.

It was June and the last time you checked Women’s History Month was in March. Inkarmat snickered and grabbed Vasily by the wrist, dragging him off towards the mess hall. The idea of going inside sounded practically orgasmic. There was zero chance you could comprehend what activities were planned for the day if sweat continued to drip down your spine all the way to the crack of your ass.

“Let’s get our shit and go, like, sit down somewhere,” you said, tone somewhat urgent.

Shiraishi nodded in agreement and offered to deal with the coordinators. He could tell you were in no position to talk to upper management. You decided to wait rather than go off on your own even though your impatience was on the verge of having a body count. Luckily neither Mr. Koito or Mr. Tsukishima seemed particularly interested in speaking to him, or any of the counselors for that matter. You were so relieved

There was a collective sigh of relief once you reached the shade. You scanned your roster, familiarizing yourself with the names listed.

“Archery on Wednesday?” Sugimoto said, voice slightly concerned. “That sounds cool, but should we really be giving kids arrows?”

“What?! We don’t have archery. We have knife throwing. Well that explains all the knives…”

“That’s not all we’re doing is it?” you asked.

“One day we’re dissecting owl pellets—Oh wait, there’s archery.”

“Do you guys have judo on Tuesday?” Sugimoto asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Shiraishi affirmed. “And then we have Russian immersion right after.”

“Russian immersion?” you asked.

“You know, the language,” Shiraishi clarified albeit for no reason as both you and Sugimoto knew Russian was in fact a language.

“We’re doing that too,” Sugimoto said, yawning. “And wagashi making.”

Other activities listed were: friendship bracelet making and various types of yarn-based projects, mushroom hunting, canoeing, swimming, hiking and giant shogi.

Peace had fallen over the three of you. All you could hear was lilting bird calls and a burbling stream. Just as you had grown accustomed to the wondrous sounds of nature, you heard the crushing of twigs and dry leaves.

“It’s a bear,” Shiraishi whispered.

“There are no bears around here,” you said.

“Even if there were bears, Mr. Tsurumi has a shotgun in his cabin,” Sugimoto chirped.

Shiraishi sighed in exasperation. “Great because that’ll definitely save us right now from getting eaten alive.”

Despite there being a lack of bears in the area every hair on your body bristled. What if you all fell victim to a vicious wild boar attack? You weren’t even sure if wild boars inhabited the area either, but logic didn’t matter. All you knew was you didn’t want to die at camp. You didn’t want to have your flesh ripped from your body by an overgrown, ugly hog or any animal to be honest. You were too young; there was so much you wanted to do in life, so much you needed to accomplish.

“Oh. It’s just Ogata,” Shiraishi said.

Sugimoto’s co-counselor emerged from the redwoods, his expression blank and unreadable. He didn’t react to Shiraishi saying his name. It was if he intended on strolling past without saying a word. Usually you found this type of behavior tiresome and obnoxious, but he made it alluring and charming in an absurd sort of way.

“Where are you going?” Sugimoto asked.

“To camp.”

Sugimoto went to speak, but you butted in.

“You should come sit with us! We got our schedules and everything! ” you blurted out.

Your face was burning. You assumed you would’ve been smoother with your approach. Your fumble didn’t seem to phase Ogata as he took a seat right next to you, leaving zero space in between. Sugimoto was left alone on the other side of the picnic table.

“Did I miss anything important?” he asked.

Sugimoto wordlessly slid their group’s information across the table. Ogata looked it over.

“Mushroom hunting,” Ogata muttered as he ran his hand over his undercut, trying to smooth down a rogue lock of hair. “Hm. We’ll have to make sure the kids don’t pick anything toxic.”

Shiraishi groaned. “I figured everything out there would be safe to eat.”

“Wh—what do you mean out there? It’s the woods. Do you think Mr. Tsurumi combed through the entirety of it to make sure every little growth out there isn’t toxic?” you asked.

You found yourself compelled to say as many words as possible to make your presence known even if it was at the expense of your partner. It was shameful, but it was an unstoppable compulsion. Ogata’s presence implored you to take up more space. You laughed louder than you normally would. You smiled when your expression would otherwise be one of indifference. You said the things you would otherwise be too lazy to. Anything to get his attention even if just for a passing moment.

Ogata chuckled and your heart sang.

“I don’t know! Now we’re gonna have to watch them like hawks.”

“Our job is to supervise them,” Sugimoto chided.

“Excuse me for not wanting to do my job,” your partner grumbled.

You wondered how feasible it would be to get assigned a new co-counselor. Shiraishi wasn’t unlikable; you got along well enough. But you had a feeling most of the heavy lifting would fall on you.

Shiraishi rested his chin on his hand. “I just hope our kids aren’t assholes.”

“They will be. That’s just how kids are,” you laughed.

“Not if you scare them into submission.”

“Nope. Not happening. Not a chance,” Sugimoto said, demolishing Ogata’s suggestion.

“As long as we all set expectations early it shouldn’t be too bad. They just need to know what to expect from us. Kids are sedated by consistency.”

“Sedated?” Ogata asked with a smirk.

His voice, rich and gruff, reverberated throughout your body. It seeped through your skin, deep into your bones, saturating your thoughts with unseemly things. Your eyes went to his hands, something you always found attractive, only to be mildly disgusted by his dirty fingernails.

You tried to shake it off. “Domesticated. Placated. Basically they won’t act like monsters.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied.

“We should start getting ready,” Sugimoto said.

“I guess,” Shiraishi yawned.

You slapped him on the back. “You can’t be tired yet.”

Your partner whined that he was within his right to be tired which didn’t matter one way or another to you. It was going to be a long day; you could feel it. But not all hope was lost. If you were able to get within close range of Ogata it would be more than worth it.

The horror of my stupidity

The first day went perfectly. Your group consisted of six rambunctious, but generally well-behaved ten-year-olds. Shiraishi managed to overcome his lackadaisical leanings and took a hands-on role, but still deferred to you. You didn’t mind leading so long as he wrangled the more unruly kids. His commitment set you at ease.

The next morning was a quiet one. The kids were usually placid at first. Their cautiousness proved useful while foraging for mushrooms. They kept their hands to themselves and none of them ate anything deadly. The only unsettling thing was Tsurumi’s gleeful reaction whenever a destroying angel popped up.

“Mr. Tsurumi, would you poop your pants if you ate one?” a camper asked thoughtfully.

His dark eyes lit up and he gave the child a toothy grin.

“Why yes! Diarrhea and excruciating cramps are the first symptoms of alpha-Amanitin poisoning.”

Another camper pointed out what they thought was a wild carrot only to be told by an ecstatic Tsurumi that it was actually hemlock. The kids were riveted as he detailed the horrific symptoms of hemlock poisoning. Their horrified gasps when he told them there was no antidote seemed to thrill him.

Upon returning to camp it became clear that all was not well. Shiraishi was the first to notice the white sheet draped over a humanoid shape. It was partially obscured by one of the cabins. Tsurumi’s jovial facade gave way to flat expression and he sprinted off towards the disturbing scene.

“Hey,” you whispered, tapping Sugimoto on the shoulder. “Can you guys take the kids? I’m, uh, gonna be nosy.”

Your partner stood erect beside you. “Me too.”

“No,” you hissed. Shiraishi didn’t budge. “Someone has to be with our group.”

“Why not you then?”

“Be—because I was… I was… okay. Listen—”

“It’s fine. I got it,” Sugimoto sighed. “I wanna know all the details though. If you skimp, I’ll never forgive either of you.”

Ogata cleared his throat. He herded the campers away from whatever was shrouded under the white sheet. They were all clamoring around him, wondering when they’d get to eat fruit snacks. One was crawling up his leg and another was attempting to tie his shoes together. It made your stomach flutter seeing him be so patient with them.

Sugimoto took the hint and headed towards his partner and the gaggle of children, but he stopped midway to reiterate that he wanted all the details much to Ogata’s annoyance.

Once they were out of sight you and Shiraishi crept closer to and saw Nurse Kano kneeling beside what you assumed was a corpse. She lifted the sheet and studied what was under it, her expression a twisted combination of enthrallment and disgust. She stood up slowly.

“He’s dead.”

“We should call the paramedics then,” Tsukishima said.

Koito looked perplexed. “But he’s already dead. Shouldn’t we call the coroner?”

“You can’t just call up the coroner,” Tsukishima sighed.

Tsurumi squatted by the body and lifted the sheet. The director’s curiosity gave you a perfect view.

It was Tanigaki. His face was pale, eyes wide and cloudy. His lips and chin were crusted over with banana yellow bile. A desperate cry got caught in your throat. You wanted to look away and go back to your kids. But you were frozen, lost in Tanigaki’s lifeless gaze.

“Tanigaki,” you croaked.

Tsurumi’s eyes darted in your direction before returning to Tanigaki’s body.

“Otonoshin, go call 9-1-1,” he said calmly.

Koito rushed off to make the call. Tsurumi lowered the sheet. You couldn’t believe that you’d never see Tanigaki again, that he was gone for good. You hadn’t known him long, but you grew very fond of him.

“He can’t… This isn’t happening…”

You struggled to find the words. Seeing the outline of his face under the sheet radiated a finality that ripped your soul from your body.

“I wonder what happened,” he mumbled as you both walked away. “He looked…”

“I—I can’t think about that right now. I don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

You wiped your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. Let’s hike to the lake or something. I don’t know.”

There was a sense of relief when you spotted the campers. You couldn’t help but smile when they broke out into a cacophony of questions regarding your whereabouts. In the midst of the excitement one camper launched a fruit snack at Shiraishi’s eye.

“You pull something like that again and I’m sending you to Mr. Tsukishima,” Ogata rumbled.

“Anyway,” Shiraishi said. “Who wants to hike up to the lake? Maybe race some canoes?”

The campers cheered and bolted in the direction of Tanigaki’s body. You and Sugimoto chased after them but they scattered like roaches. You could only stop so many of them.

“Hey! Were any of you dismissed?!”

Ogata’s voice cut through them and they immediately made their way back, heads hanging. You hadn’t expected him to be so firm with the campers. He was kind of withdrawn around the other counselors, or at the very least opaque. He mostly kept to himself though his brother was usually fluttering around him. You felt like you barely knew Ogata despite spending time with him, whereas Shiraishi and his oversharing made him feel more like an old friend or a weird cousin. As frustrating as it was, the mysterious haze that obscured Ogata drew you in. You wanted to know more about him, to pry open his soul and study its contents.

“You all owe your counselors an apology.” Ogata’s sharp gaze turned to the kid that hit Shiraishi with a fruit snack. “You especially.”

The kid looked terrified and quickly mumbled an apology. The rest of the campers groaned “we’re sorry” in unison. With the apologies out of the way the four of you prepared them for their hike.

“Look! More hemlock!” one the kids exclaimed. She knelt beside the plant, her face inches from its toxic, white flowers.

“Don’t get too close to it,” Sugimoto said, his voice like that of a concerned mother.

You could barely focus, but the camper was in your group so you felt compelled to try. “Or just don’t go around it at all. Leave it alone.”

“I’m just looking!”

“Looking that close is enough to kill,” Ogata said over his shoulder. “If you inhale the fumes, you're dead.”

This seemed to quell any remnants of curiosity. The campers spent the rest of the hike spotting mushrooms and imitating Tsurumi’s passionate infodumping. The word “creepy” was thrown around liberally. You chastised them for being disrespectful, but you agreed. His behavior made you uncomfortable, especially in the wake of Tanigaki’s mysterious death.

The lake was calm, the serenity of the scene much needed.

“Look!” a camper called out.

You thought it was cute that they were just as pleased to see the lake as you were. However something was riling them up as they made their way down to the shore. Some ran right back up the hill. Their faces paled, their eyes ripe with fear.

“Saichi, Saichi!!” one said, latching onto his arm. “Look!!”

Sugimoto crested the hill and looked down.

“Oh shit,” he said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

“Stop swearing around the kids,” Ogata sighed as he joined his co-counselor to survey the situation. “Shit.”

“What is it?” you and Shiraishi shouted.

“Everyone away from the lake!” Ogata called out.

The kids bounded up the hill and cowered beside you, clinging to you for comfort.

“You guys, what is it?” you repeated, patting a camper on the head. “Is it something gross?”

“You could say that,” one piped up.

Sugimoto and Ogata turned to face you, but they seemed unable to speak. You freed yourself from the kids and walked towards them. Your absence caused them to swarm Shiraishi.

“It’s a body!” one shrieked.

“Um, it’s a lady!” one replied in a bratty tone.

Each step felt heavier than the last. Your body was screaming for you to turn around, but you couldn’t. You felt sick to your stomach. Kids made up stories all the time. They played pranks. Maybe they were lying.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Maybe she’s just sleeping.”

“What are you? Dumb? She’s dead!”

Their voices were all melding into one. Everything began to blur. You knew what was coming. You knew what you were going to see. And yet you kept walking.

It was Inkarmat.

“Shi… Shiraishi. Take the ki…”

You forced yourself to look at the water, trying to ignore her putrefied remains. You leached away its calmness like a parasite. The tranquility you attempted to foster only did so much. You still felt like garbage, like you could vomit at any second.

“What is it?!” Shiraishi shouted back. “And,” he groaned, “I can’t take them all by myself!”

He was right. Being responsible for twelve disturbed children in the woods with terrible cell reception was asking for trouble, but you were too stunned to think up a plan of action.

“Ogata and I will be in the front. You and Shiraishi take the back. I’ll tell Tsurumi when we get back to camp.”

You nodded and started walking back to the group with Sugimoto. Tears welled up in your eyes as you made eye contact with a terrified camper.

“Hey! Ogata!”

He was still on the hill, staring down into the lake

“We have to go!” Sugimoto bellowed.

Ogata didn’t budge, and Sugimoto did not have the time for such antics.

“I’ll wait for him,” you said, wiping away your tears. “I don’t want the kids to see me like this anyway.”

“It wouldn’t kill them to see that you’re human,” Sugimoto said, trapping you in his gaze.

You sniffled. “Gross.”

Sugimoto didn’t have time for whatever was going on with you either. You couldn’t blame him. The kids had to take precedence. All you needed was two minutes to collect yourself and you’d be a functioning camp counselor again.

Ogata was still frozen in time. Everything was so still you didn’t want to speak, let alone move. You felt like the sound of a twig snapping beneath your feet could send the world into chaos.

“Hyakunosuke.” Your voice was soft, any louder and it would waiver.

Your legs shook as you made your way up the hill next to him. You made a conscious effort to keep your eyes on Ogata, nowhere else. You let yourself get lost in him and studied his face. You were curious about his symmetrical scars and how he got them.

“You’re not traumatized by this?” Ogata finally asked.

You thought about Tanigaki.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” he said, pointing at Inkarmat’s bloated corpse.

“Why are you asking?”

“I dunno. Curious I guess.”

Your mind went blank, but you kept speaking. “I’m… upset obviously. But I don’t want the kids to know… so… I’m—I am gonna pretend none of this ever happened and get through the week in one piece hopefully.”

“I know you can do it.”

His support did little to soothe you.

“I saw Tanigaki earlier. I saw his face. It was… He had puked all over himself and it just was so sad, like so undignified.” Ogata snorted, but you were too frazzled to comprehend it at the time. “And now that’s how I’m going to fucking remember him?” You tried to take some measured breaths. “Like was he in pain? Was he scared? Did he call out to any of us? Did he die, like, knowing we cared about him? Or did he just fucking lie in the dirt for hours, wondering why none of us came to help him?”

“Where was he?”

“His cabin. It kinda looked like he was leaving, or maybe he was going back in. He was on his back though.”

You couldn’t say anything more. You needed as much distance from the memory as possible. If Ogata wanted to know more, he would have to badger Shiraishi.

“Let’s go,” he said suddenly. “They’ll probably have to ask us a bunch of questions.”

“They? Who—”

“Maybe Tsurumi. Or his two guard dogs. Or the police. If we’re lucky maybe it’ll be all of them.”

Your bones were turning into dust, your body buckling under its own weight. You saw far too much today and said too much about it.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

“I can’t move.”

You knew that in theory you could manipulate your body in such a way that would create distance between you and what remained of Inkarmat. You were practically screaming at yourself to go back to the group and embody Shiraishi’s laid back nature. But your fear was intangible, unforeseen, and there was no escaping it.

“Get on my back.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll carry you,” he said, readying himself to give you a piggyback ride.

“Are you sure?”

“Probably.”

You felt bad for giggling, considering you weren’t far from a corpse, but the lightness of it set you free. You hopped on his back and made your way through the woods, following the shrill voices of your campers.

“I’m going to need a drink after today,” Ogata grumbled.

“What do you mean a drink? I need an entire fifth to myself with one of those sport caps they have on water bottles screwed on top.”

“I can make that happen.”

Ogata said it with such ease. He was becoming the perfect distraction, a comforting beacon in a sea of blood and vomit.

I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am

You and your fellow counselors decided a night of binge drinking was needed to cope with the day’s horrifying events. Everyone traded stories. Yūsaku joined the party, finally able to walk upright without yelping in pain. He was blindsided by what happened.

“So that’s it? They’re dead?” he asked, face flushed from his sunburn and the copious amounts of watery American-style lager he was drinking.

You took a sip from a bottle of tequila. Ogata managed to screw a sports cap on top making your dream a reality.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah. They’re dead. That’s for sure.” The alcohol had softened the blow of seeing both of their bodies. “Seeing Tanigaki fucked me up… Not that Inkarmat didn’t… It’s just, like, his was the first I saw, y’know?”

“You always remember your first,” Usami said as he wandered into the woods to relieve himself.

Yūsaku shivered and you washed away Usami’s words with an amnesia seeking gulp of tequila.

“Sucks for you though. You’re gonna have to pick up the slack.”

“I don’t mind. It’s what I signed up for,” he beamed. “The kids really liked Inkarmat though. I have some big shoes to fill.”

“I think you’ll be a hit. They might try to peel off loose pieces of your skin though.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take for the good of the camp!” he cheered.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.

“In a bad way?” he said, batting his long eyelashes.

You thought he was a total dork, but his optimism was infectious. Or maybe it was just your intoxicated mind being more open to suggestion. After having such a horrendous day it was nice to indulge in someone else’s dream. You knew deep down that there was no way camp would go on as planned, but it was easier to pretend that Yūsaku’s drive would be enough to pull everyone through.

“No, no,” you said, patting him on the head. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Out of the corner of you watched Ogata emerge from the woods and sit on the ground right next to the campfire. He held his hands to the fire. You watched as he closed his eyes, his body relaxing, shoulders lowered.

“You’re so nice” Yūsaku said, giving you a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

It caught Ogata’s attention and he narrowed his eyes as his half-brother spun you around.

“Yū—Yūsaku, I’m getting dizzy.”

He blushed and apologized. Once your feet were on the ground you joined Ogata by the fire.

“How’s the bottle been working out for you?”

“Amazing,” you said, taking another drink. “Are you cold?” You scooted closer to him. “Where’d your jacket go?”

“I’m not sure. Why all the questions?”

You didn’t think two questions were considered a lot. “No reason.”

You hadn’t thought this conversation through. You were stumped and floundering. You should have known better to attempt to flirt while drunk. Your chance was slipping through your fingers and it made you ill. You needed something good to happen, something exciting. You needed Ogata to figure out that you were charming and interesting and most importantly fuckable.

He closed the gap and leaned against you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Maybe. I… I have no idea honestly. I don’t know how I feel. Sometimes it’s like,” you took a sip of tequila, “I feel freaked the fuck out. But then sometimes I feel abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Like right now. It feels like it didn’t even happen. Are you okay?”

“I am. I only knew them for a week so they didn’t matter much.” His comments were so callous. “Don’t get me wrong. They were nice people, but that’s all they were to me.”

“Nice people,” you repeated.

“Yeah. Nice people.”

“Would you be sad if I died?”

He stared into the fire. “Maybe. Our groups get paired together for activities.”

“What does that mean?!”

“I’m around you a lot. Your absence wouldn’t go unnoticed,” he said with a smirk.

Your cheeks flared up and found it increasingly harder to hold it together. You regretted all the tequila. Spit was pooling in your mouth.

“Yeah, well. Of course it would. I’m, like, fucking… yeah,” you said, eyes half-lidded.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

“I think the kids and the—their, uh, inarticulateness is rubbing, you know, off.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. It’s definitely not because your blood is 90 proof.”

“You want some of it?”

You gave him a sloppy wink. His dark eyes widened, his eyebrows raised. It was the first time you had ever seen him so flustered.

“I—” he stuttered.

“Hey,” Shiraishi barked. “You guys seen Vasily?”

Ogata resumed his usual hard to read demeanor. You wanted to break the bottle in your hand and gut Shiraishi with it.

“Uhhhhh… Not like recently. I thought he was with you and Sugimoto,” you replied politely through a clenched jaw.

“We thought he was with you.”

“He could’ve went to bed early,” Ogata suggested.

“Hmmm yeah. I wouldn’t blame him,” you said.

“We should do that,” Shiraishi said, pointing at you. “We have target shooting at seven in the morning.”

You groaned. He was right, a good night’s rest was necessary. It killed you to say good night to Ogata, but there was always tomorrow. You didn’t need to rush things.

I looked on the disorder of my mind as sacred

You woke up the next morning with a persistent ache near your temples. You rolled out of bed and dug around your suitcase for some ibuprofen. You grabbed four and choked them down with room temperature water. It felt thick as it made its way down your throat. The sun was just starting to rise, the sky a dreamy shade of lavender.

It was weird to wake up alone. You hoped that it would be easier the second time around, but Inkarmat’s absence weighed heavy on you. You couldn’t figure out how she made it to the lake. The last time you saw her she said that she was going to fuck Tanigaki and to cover her ass if needed. She must have gotten lost on her way back from wherever it was she met him. Maybe she took a wrong turn and fell. Or maybe Tsurumi had something to do with it.

“Good morning!!”

Shiraishi’s cheery voice cut through your thoughts. You got up and let him in.

“Tsk, tsk. Still in your pajamas. What am I gonna do with you?”

He handed you an enamel mug full of coffee.

“Tsurumi wants to talk to us in an hour. I ran into him when I was going to take a piss.”

“Did he seem worried?”

“Not really.”

“Weird… I think he has something to do with it. He killed Tanigaki for sure and he probably killed Inkarmat too.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I think Tsurumi poisoned him with hemlock. What we saw lines up with the symptoms he told us when we went mushroom foraging.” Shiraishi didn’t look convinced. “Like do you think this is all a coincidence?”

“Why would he kill him though?”

“People kill without motives all the time.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Seriously? He’s a creep. Who else would it be?”

“I don’t think it’s a person,” he whispered suddenly. His eyes shifted from left to right. “I think this place is haunted.”

“Oh yeah? Did Inkarmat read some passages out of the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis? Did she release the Deadites? Or maybe the soul of a drowned ex-camper is wandering the woods and picking us off one by one.”

Shiraishi was an idiot. There was no way the camp was haunted. You kicked him out and got dressed. You felt like you were moving in slow motion. You didn’t want to have some group discussion about what happened the day before. You wanted to put it in the past and focus on the kids and their activities. You wanted to finally have a canoe race.

When you walked into the mess hall it was dead silent. You took a seat next to Ogata much to the disappointment of Shiraishi and Sugimoto. There was an empty seat in between them.

“Where’s everyone?” you asked.

“No one’s seen Vasily or Usami since last night. And Koito’s with the kids. We’re just waiting on Tsurumi.”

“What about Nurse Kano?”

“I dunno…”

“Sorry I’m late!” Yūsaku said breathily. His hair was wet and his clothes were haphazardly thrown on.

“We haven’t even started yet,” Ogata groaned. “Sit down.”

Five minutes later Tsurumi came in with Tsukishima following behind like a shadow. He looked tired. His normally neat hair was askew, several strands of hair grazing his face, and his clothes were wrinkled.

“There’s no easy way to begin this discussion. We’re down four counselors. Genjirō and Inkarmat are dead, and apparently some of you are missing. That means there are twelve campers without any supervision.” He pointed at Yūsaku. “Yūsaku, you’re their counselor now. We’re also down a nurse. I received a note this morning from Nurse Kano saying, ‘I’m done with this shit. You’re not paying me enough and if I see you again I’m going to skin you alive.’ Needless to say, I would appreciate it if we kept any and all injuries to a minimum.”

Shiraishi raised his hand. “What if there’s an accident?”

“There won’t be any accidents!”

It was the first time any of you heard Tsurumi raise his voice. He took a deep breath and continued speaking, his tone even.

“The police have been informed about the disappearances. They said,” he sighed, “they’ll keep in touch.”

Sugimoto’s hand shot up. “Mr. Tsurumi, I have a question.”

“Yes, Saichi.”

“Shouldn’t we cancel our activities today and go look for Vasily and Usami?”

“I see no reason to punish innocent children for our failings.”

“Aww,” Shiraishi said quietly. “That’s so sweet.”

“It’s best to leave this up to the authorities. The last thing I want is for one of you to get hurt. We’re short staffed as it is,” Tsurumi said before ending the meeting.

The campers were full of questions, but overall the day was peaceful. Target shooting went well, and the kids loved learning Russian. Whenever Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention Ogata would teach them a few swear words. They lived for it, laughing like hyenas as Tsukishima tried to figure out what was so funny. Things felt kind of normal.

Sugimoto was the one to finally suggest going on a night hike after dinner. He thought Tsurumi was stupid for not utilizing everyone in the search, and it weighed on his mind all day.

“I can’t believe the cops didn’t show up,” he said, turning on his flashlight.

“That’s illegal, right?” Shiraishi asked.

Ogata yawned. “It might be, but they don’t care.”

“Whatever,” Sugimoto said dismissively. “I’ll probably regret saying this, but I think we should split up. We’ll cover more ground.”

“I’ll go with Ogata,” you blurted out.

Sugimoto’s millisecond of confused silence opened a window for Ogata to direct the hastily thrown together operation.

“We'll go further up the mountain and check the trails. You guys stay at this elevation and search the woods. I’m sure they got lost. I’d say let’s bet on it, but I know you’re all broke.”

Shiraishi nodded, but Sugimoto looked annoyed beyond belief. You watched as they melted away into the darkness eagerly awaiting your alone time with Ogata.

“It’s better if we both have one,” he said, handing you a flashlight. “You said my name pretty fast back there.”

Your palms began to sweat. You had been too eager.

“I don’t know,” you said, pushing a low hanging branch out of your face. “Shiraishi’s been getting on my nerves.”

You cringed at your lie. Hopefully Ogata would deem it inconsequential and forget you ever said it.

“Is he really that bad?”

“Uh, well, you know… He—sometimes it’s like he’s just so obnoxious.”

“He is pretty annoying. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“I’m, um, just really good at tolerating people. It’s hard though.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

You were good at hiding it because you loved having Shiraishi as a partner.

“Thank you.”

“It’s too bad we weren’t paired together. Sugimoto’s an asshole,” he sighed.

The two of you walked cautiously down the trail. You grew more and more nervous as it got steeper. Every twig felt like a landmine. You kept your eyes on the ground. It proved to be a terrible idea because you ended up walking right into Ogata. He fell forward, dropping his flashlight.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” you said, cradling him in your arms.

He looked up at you. His forehead and his arms were covered in swaths of raw skin and blood. He tried to get up, but only managed to roll onto the ground. You pulled off your sweatshirt and put it under his head as a makeshift pillow.

You dug through your backpack for your first aid kit. It was nearly empty already because your group of campers loved skinning their knees. You found a few alcohol wipes and some gauze. You wanted to punch your past self for not refilling it, but now wasn’t the time for self-flagellation.

“It’s gonna sting.”

“I’m not a child. You don’t need to remind me.”

“Damn, okay,” you said, cleaning the wound on his head.

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

It was just a superficial scrape, but of course the urge to spiral was present. Despite your attempts to be optimistic your mind went to the worst places.

I gave him a traumatic brain injury. I cracked his beautiful skull. I killed him and Mr. Tsurumi is going to be so fucking mad at me!

“No. I’m sorry. I’m the idiot that made you fall.”

“Good point. I take back my apology.”

You slapped an alcohol wipe on one of the cuts on his arm. His pained groan was like an angel singing your name.

“What day is it?” you asked, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.

“June 8th.”

“What’s the time?”

He paused. “I don’t know. It was around 10 when we left.”

“Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Sleepy?”

“No.”

“Do you remember what ha—”

“You shoved me and I fell.”

“Shove makes it seem like it was intentional.”

“It was.”

“No it was not.”

He sat up. “Yes it was. You shoved me because you have a huge crush on me and you can’t stand it.”

“You definitely damaged your brain. Like, you’re so unwell right now. It’s sick.”

He laughed. “Don’t deny it. You can be honest with me.”

“I was looking at the ground! There were exposed roots!”

He pulled his arm away from you and grabbed you by the jaw. “If that’s all it was, why do you look nervous?”

“That’s just my face.”

“It’s a cute one.”

You panicked and tried to think of a cool, couth response, but nothing came. You just sat there, brain filled with white noise. The air was heavy; you felt like you were choking. You kept your breathing steady, but it was a herculean effort. All your energy was going into keeping yourself in one piece. The longer those four words sank in, the harder it was to retain your humanity.

It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one.

Your hesitation evaporated and you clumsily kissed him. Despite his words he seemed unimpressed with your agency, giving nothing in return. And in turn you felt nothing. It was like you were holding him hostage rather than sweeping him off his feet.

“Um, we should… go back to camp.”

The relief you felt upon finding Sugimoto and Shiraishi was immense. However your fellow counselors remained missing. You couldn’t help but feel like you were hunting for ghosts.

I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul

Much to the chagrin of Shiraishi, Tsurumi asked you to help Yūsaku and his twelve campers. It wasn’t ideal. Managing kids you weren’t familiar with was rough. They tested you left and right. They relished in lying about their names, snickering when you’d try to chastise them. They seemed to have a modicum of respect for Yūsaku though.

“How’s it going?” Shiraishi asked during your lunch.

“It’s—”

“Well I’m having a terrible time. These kids hate me. They keep asking when you’re coming back.”

You laughed. “Did you tell them never? Because I don’t see Tsurumi letting the golden boy stuck with a bunch of kids on his own.”

“It’s not like he needs you! I’m dying out there!”

“You have Sugimoto.” You sighed. “And Ogata.”

“They’re barely any help. Sugimoto’s too busy trying to solve a murder mystery like he’s Columbo. And Ogata’s too busy being his weird self. I think he’s pissed off at Hanazawa.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why. Maybe he’s jealous that Hanazawa is—”

“Working with me?” you asked, your eyes full of stars.

“Psh. No. Part of me thinks Ogata just wants to be Tsurumi’s pet.”

“Oh. No yeah, you’re right.” You stared off into space. “He totally wants to be the golden boy.”

“You’re both wrong.” Ogata silently took a seat next to Shiraishi. Your head was swimming. “I just hate being here.”

“Then why glare at your brother?” Shiraishi asked haughtily.

“Are you an only child, Shiraishi?”

“Probably.”

Ogata smirked and changed the subject. “How is working with him?”

His tone wasn’t threatening, but the flatness of his gaze made you feel like you were being interrogated.

“It’s fine!” you exclaimed a bit too hurriedly. You tried to save face by tempering your tone to match the coolness of Ogata’s. “I mean, yeah, like, it’s okay. The kids like him, which is good because they can’t stand me. I don’t mind him, you know, taking the lead. He is the lead counselor.”

“It looked like he was doing all the work.”

His words were a wasp’s sting.

“You’d be stupid not to take advantage of that dork,” Shiraishi said in an attempt to bandage your wound.

“I’m not taking advantage of him.”

“Shiraishi has a point.”

“No he does not!”

“You can admit it,” Ogata teased.

“There’s nothing to admit. What am I supposed to admit?”

He paused.

“You know you hate being here just as much as everyone else.”

You glared at Ogata. “If I hated being here, I would leave.”

“Sure you would.”

“Yeah! Exactly. I would.”

Shiraishi scurried away awkwardly, though to be honest you barely noticed.

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “How can you be so sure of something like that?”

“Because—because I know myself? This isn’t, like, some hypothetical thing. If I didn’t want to be here, I would leave. But I’m invested in whatever the fuck is going on… And I like my kids! I care about them! Okay, not the ones I have right now. Honestly fuck those ki—oh god.”

Ogata was trying to hold back a laugh. “Child hater.”

“I don’t hate kids! Even kids that are little shits. I’m just…” You carefully chose your words. “Not fond of some.” You regained your conviction. “Regardless it’s not like I could ever leave any of them behind.”

“It’s so funny.”

You tilted your head, awaiting an elaboration.

“You all say the same thing. The way you say it is different, but—”

“What are you talking about?”

He stood up and patted you on the head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You thought about chasing after him, but there was only ten minutes left of your lunch and you hadn’t even touched your food. You choked it down and searched for Yūsaku. You found him sitting in the grass, telling the kids one of his numerous summer camp tales.

“And that’s how I learned you should never eat mud.”

You joined their circle. “How was the jigen-ryū class?”

“Boring,” one chirped.

“Lame,” another admitted.

“I hate Mr. Koito.” one said bluntly. “Why does he scream so much?”

Yūsaku nervously chastised the kids.

You giggled. “That’s a great question. But I have an even better one: who wants to have a canoe race?”

The kids were eager for normalcy, typical summer fun, and you couldn’t blame them. You sought it yourself. Anything to shake off your conversation with Ogata. You felt like it poked holes in your brain. You hoped in utter desperation that the laughter of children and the afternoon sunlight dancing across Yūsaku’s precious face would fill them.

And for a brief moment they did. But Ogata remained a looming presence. He was so distracting you came dead last in the race. Your eyes couldn’t focus on anything other than him watching from a distance like a hunter.

A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned

You went to bed early that night though you failed to drift away. You were in a fetal position, snuggled up in your sleeping bag, looking up at the Milky Way through your window for hours. You couldn’t get Ogata out of your mind.

“Idiot,” you murmured as you flipped over onto your back, not sure if you were calling him an idiot or yourself.

You stretched out and took up every inch of your bed. Your joints popped, the satisfaction from the sound soothed your soul. There was the chance this was as worse as it would get. Yes, people were dropping like flies, disappearing mysteriously. Yes, the camp director was a blatant freak. Yes, Ogata was fucking with your head. But the canoe race was normal! It was benign and expected! Those moments were few and far between so far. Maybe this was a good omen, a sneak peak of the placidity that was going to follow.

Pretending to be optimistic successfully lulled you to sleep. But rapid, and somehow pathetic, pounding on your cabin door ripped you from your slumber. You groaned audibly, hoping whoever was in desperate need of your attention would feel a semblance of shame. You got out of bed at a sloth’s pace and sighed before opening the door.

“Are you busy?” Ogata asked.

“I was sleeping.”

He gently pushed you out of the way and entered the cabin, a stiffness and urgency embodied in the swift movement. Your grip on consciousness was tenuous at best so you didn’t protest.

“Everything, uh, good?” you asked.

“If I said I wanted to apologize, would you believe me?”

You scoffed. “Not after asking me that.”

He sat down on your bed, and you struggled to hide your disgust. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fetid remnants of the woods that lingered on his sweatpants. Having him take them off crossed your mind.

“Well I am.”

“You’re what?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it… All the stuff I said.”

“You sure about that?”

He attempted to smooth down a strand of his hair. A hoarse mhm resonated in his throat.

“You’re so easy to rile up. I couldn’t resist.”

“Well,” you groaned. “Thanks. I guess.”

You figured he’d get up and leave, but instead his presence lingered, growing heavier by the second. His eyes were restless, his body tense.

“Do you mind if I stay the night?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the floor.

It was such an abrupt question. All you could do was choke out an affirmation. You knew kicking him out was the smart thing to do, but his perceived permanence on your bed overwhelmed you. The rational voice in your head grew fainter, your lust forcing its way through your papery veil of self-preservation. You were nothing more than your repressed urges.

“Are you sure?”

Dumb question. You’d never been so sure of something in your life. You couldn’t recall any form of previous trepidation though you weren’t trying particularly hard to do so.

“Yeah,” you answered, sitting beside him.

You leaned in. His sweatshirt smelled like wet leaves and copper. You used his thigh to steady yourself. He turned his head, his dark eyes looking through you. It was unnerving, but not enough to trigger common sense.

“Aren’t you hot?” you asked, laughing as the question tumbled from your mouth. His answer didn’t matter. “You’re making me sweat.”

You tugged at his sweatshirt. It felt dirty, heavy with sweat and earth. He took it off without a stitch of hesitation. Your eyes trailed down his arms, longing for them to be wrapped around you. It was the only way you’d make it through the night.

“I run cold,” he practically purred.

Cliche comments ran through your head.

That’s so funny because I could totally keep you warm, big boy.

I’m burning up, why don’t you cool me off with your stupid, gorgeous body?

“That’s cool.” Your brain shut down. “I want you.”

Your bluntness seemed to please him. His lips curled into a half smile before he pulled you into a kiss. He wasted no time, pushing his tongue past your teeth. He caressed your cheek as his tongue brushed up against yours, soft and warm. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed the inside of your thigh with his rough hands. You tugged at his shirt, the cotton damp with sweat. He lifted it up and pulled it off, letting it drop on the floor.

“You should lie down,” you said, breath hot against his neck.

“Am I easier to take advantage of that way?”

“Excuse me?”

Your question went unheeded and he reclined on your bed, beckoning you to straddle him. You looked down at his body, muscles perfectly toned like they were crafted by the gods. He looked so pleased with himself, like he’d won an award. His cock was hard against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. It ached against you.

You studied his face. There were a few faint, red scratches across his cheek. You ran your thumb down one, feeling the slightly swollen skin. He winced.

“What happened?” you asked.

He exhaled. “I fell.”

“Like recently or?”

“On my way over.”

“How?”

His right eye twitched.

“I tripped,” he said, words clipped.

“On what?”

You never knew him to be clumsy, if anything he was rather feline in his agility. His fingers dug deeper into your hips before rolling you onto your back and getting on top of you. He pressed his rough palm over your lips.

“Hush.” His tone was nauseatingly sweet.

“I’m serious, are you okay?” you asked, voice muffled by his hand.

He titled his head and stared into your eyes with a calculated gaze.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be so talkative?”

It was astounding how easy it was for him to shut you down. Granted you weren’t steadfast when it came to Ogata. You couldn’t take a firm stance. How could you hold onto a belief when you couldn’t predict his reaction to it? You wanted to be palatable and if that meant bending like a willow to his incomprehensible will then so be it.

“You’re so cute,” he said, removing his hand. “You’re like a scared deer.”

He lifted up the oversized t-shirt you liked to sleep in and pulled off your underwear. His fingers grazed your folds, coating them in your arousal. You swallowed hard, spit catching in your throat, as he slid them into your cunt. They curled inside you, pressing against your walls. The pressure made your skin tingle.

His gaze was attentive but cold. You felt studied, examined. It bred a twinge of looming uncertainty, one that settled in your stomach. But he didn’t hesitate with a remedy. He pushed his fingers as far as they could go and began fucking you with them. Your concern disappeared as fast as it came. Your eyes glazed over, ensnared by the man looming over you. You tried in vain to hold back your pleased whimpers.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re falling apart so fast.” His lips grazed your lobe.

Apologizing crossed your mind, but you kept your mouth shut. You writhed underneath his weight, rutting up against his fingers as they fucked your slick cunt.

Your hands wandered down his back. His skin was soft and sticky with sweat. You let your fingers trail down his spine before settling on the crest of his ass. You yanked down his briefs and dug your fingers into the taut flesh. He flashed an impish smile and pulled them down, kicking them off. The head of his cock was leaking precum. He tugged on it and bathed in your starved gaze.

“You want me so bad,” he said haughtily. “Tell me how bad you want me.”

You sighed as he jerked himself off. “I feel like I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I need you.”

“Then beg for it,” he growled.

“Please. Please fuck me.”

He rubbed his cock up against your folds. “Say my name.”

“Please fuck me, Hyakunosuke. Please. Please. Please.”

He nuzzled your neck and pressed his cocktip against your clit. “More.”

You continued to plead, body aching for him to fuck you. He guided his cock inside you, its girth stretching your tight cunt. He groaned as he pushed it in further. His movements were slow, and he seemed to relish in your whimpering.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded as he thrust into you.

“Really good. Really fucking good,” you babbled.

He let out a pleased sigh and fully submerged his length within you. His tip pressed up against your cervix, sending a shock to your core. You yelped as he pushed against it harder.

“Such a big cock for such a precious little thing.”

His thrusts drove you into the mattress, making your cot creak. His touch wasn’t gentle. He didn’t hesitate to bend your body to his liking, to show off his strength. It was deliciously overwhelming. He laced his fingers in your hair and pulled. He manhandled your legs to get them over his shoulders. You knew his force would leave blooms of bruises on your ankles, bruises you’d have to explain away when your friends inquired about your life after hours.

Being at his will was exciting.

“Do you like getting fucked like a whore?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

He grinned. You wanted to lick his teeth, but settled for hugging his cock with your cunt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

His pace quickened and his breathing grew labored. He seemed weakened by his impending climax. His eyes were softer, his words lacked their previous domineering weight. He looked like he was in agony. Seeing him fall apart made your clit throb. It was almost too much. Your body was immersed in euphoria, drowning in an obscene amount of debauched delight. To finally experience something you craved for so long was almost maddening. So many times you dreamt about him lording over your body under the serene light of the moon. And now you were living it out.

You wanted him to come first, to feel his cum flood your cunt, but your body wasn’t on the same page. Your impending climax was bubbling up inside you. Resisting it was a futile feat. What good was it to deny yourself such ecstasy?

“Harder,” you moaned.

He repositioned himself so he could drive his cock deeper in. You felt like you were going to burst. You dug your fingers into your mattress, gripping the tangled up sheets. The feeblest attempt to keep yourself tethered to this world lest you ascend to an Icarus end. Your back arched as a numinous groan crept up from the depths of your being, a simple carnal prayer. A cluster of whimpers followed in its wake.

Every inch of tension melted away as you let your orgasm consume you. You nearly forgot where you were until you heard Ogata’s pained voice.

“Where do you want it?” he asked urgently.

“Inside, inside,” you babbled.

He grimaced and pulled his cock out of your dripping cunt. He straddled your chest and held your head, forcing you to crane your neck. He pushed his cock past your lips and rutted against your face. His touch became gentle, hands almost cradling the base of your skull. He held you like you were fragile, like he could rip you to pieces if he lacked restraint.

“Look up at me,” he groaned as his cum splattered against the back of your throat.

You looked up at him, as he continued to thrust. Spurts of his piquant cum filled your mouth. You thought it would never end. Tears welled up in your eyes as his cum trickled from the corners of your mouth. Once his cock stopped twitching he placed his hand on your forehead and pushed you off. He then rolled over onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“Um,” you said, crashing back into reality.

You hoped no one heard what happened. Your cabin was the one closest to the outskirts of everything, but still. Your cot’s incessant squeaking plagued you. Your breathy moans haunted you. Ogata’s audible grunting was a dark cloud swirling above your head. You missed your fucked out state of mind. You debated on chasing it. You thought about grabbing his semi-erect cock, but the feeling faded from your grasp. It didn’t help that he looked completely dissociated from the situation.

“Hyaku,” you paused, his first name felt too intimate, ”Ogata?”

You rolled over onto your side and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Sure,” he said before turning his back to you.

“Okay,” you replied, molding your body beside his.

You expected him to scoot away from you, or retire to the unforgiving floor. But instead he pressed himself up against you. You draped an arm over him and nuzzled your face against his undercut as you drifted away.

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure

Waking up alone wasn’t a surprise though it was still disappointing.

The sun roused you, making you painfully aware of your lack of clothes and the dried cum in the corners of your mouth. Visions of a relaxing shower danced through your mind. You could practically feel the steam surrounding you. However, leaving your cabin was precarious. No one could see you like this, skittering around and clutching your toiletries like they were gold. You’d wither away if perceived.

“I got this,” you whispered to no one in particular.

You stepped out into the morning light. It felt early. You didn’t hear any kids or any sort of chatter which was a relief. The outside world was safe; it was secure. You took a deep breath and took in the fresh air.

“Good morning.”

Your exhale lodged itself in your throat, forcing out a pathetic cough.

“Fuck. I mean good morning, Mr. Tsurumi.”

He looked tired, less triumphant, and part of you wondered if he was going to kill you.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be up this early.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be either,” you said, trying to mask your discomfort. “Anyway—”

He interrupted your attempt at a polite getaway. “How well do you know Yūsaku?”

“Uh. I guess about as well as you can know anyone given the amount of ti—”

“Did he seem unhappy? Dissatisfied?”

“That sunburn made him pretty miserable.”

He studied you. “Anything beyond that?”

“I—yeah no, I think that’s, uh, the only thing.”

“I see. Well I won’t keep you any longer.”

You simply smiled and nodded. Once he was out of sight you sprinted to the showers, eager for the cleanly embrace of its solitude. It was exactly what you wanted, what you needed. You needed to wash away whatever that conversation had been. You couldn’t figure out why he was so curious about Yūsaku. Your relationship with him was friendly but superficial. You wouldn’t know how to describe him in any meaningful way if prompted to, but made an attempt anyway.

He’s Ogata’s half-brother. He can tell two different stories about eating mud as a little kid. He sucks at putting on sunscreen. His eyelashes are pretty. He has a general golden boy vibe that is almost insufferably charming.

You knew essentially nothing. Whereas you could write an entire thesis regarding the random facts about Shiraishi you learned against your will.

You spent the entirety of your shower, wracking your brain over the camp director’s questioning. Unfortunately your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. The night before lingered around you like a ghostly shroud. Your legs were peppered with bruises and your hips were sore. There were so many random aches echoing throughout your body.

By the time you were done the shrill voices of children flooded the camp. You hurriedly made your way back to your cabin, careful to avoid running into anyone. But despite the painstaking care you took, there was Shiraishi pawing at your door anxiously like a dog.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He didn’t bother answering your question. “They’re sending all the kids home.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yup. A few parents have already come by. Tsurumi wants to sit us all down and talk about what we’re gonna do.”

“We’re all going to leave, right?”

“Well we got all this shit here. The canoes. The food. The giant shogi pieces. All of that needs to get packed up probably. Do you think we’ll still get paid even if there’s no kids to watch?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“I heard something kinda messed up though.” You stepped closer to him and he continued, his voice low. “I overheard Koito saying some shit to Tsukishima about another body being found.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yeah. They left maybe an hour ago. I doubt they’re coming back. I saw them pack—”

“Okay whatever. Whose body?”

Shiraishi shushed you. “Yūsaku’s.”

“Shut up.”

“Tsurumi found him hanging in the forest.”

“Like hanging out, right? With his brother maybe?” you asked desperately.

“Nope.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?”

“Relax! Maybe I heard wrong.”

You took a measured breath and distanced yourself from this loss. “It makes sense. Tsurumi was asking me about Yūsaku this morning. He wanted to know if Yūsaku was sad or, I don’t know, depressed I guess.”

“Did he seem—”

“No, but not all suicidal people act like outwardly suicidal.”

“So you think he killed himself?”

“Fuck no,” you sneered. “I bet Tsurumi did. That’s why he was asking me about him. He wanted to come up with an alibi, or a reason for Yūsaku to have done something like that.”

Shiraishi looked a little nervous. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not jump the gun.”

You pushed him away from the door and dropped your stuff off. On the walk to the mess hall you watched as kids crawled into massive minivans and sleek electric cars. They were a resilient bunch. You admired their ability to withstand the trauma murder reaped. It sucked to see them go, but this camp was no place for their kind.

You felt oddly numb in the wake of Yūsaku’s apparent demise, especially as you sat amongst the camp’s dwindling numbers. It was just you, Shiraishi, Sugimoto, Ogata, and that freak Tsurumi. You all sat in a circle around an ashen fire pit, sipping coffee. It was bitter, the acidic taste boring holes through your tongue.

“It pains me to say this,” Tsurumi began.

“We all know about Yūsaku,” Shiraishi yawned.

His lack of tact made you want to crawl into your mug and drown.

“Oh, I wasn’t going to start off with that but…” He sighed. “As you all apparently know Yūsaku is no longer with us.”

“Did he go home?” Ogata asked.

“Shut up,” Sugimoto hissed.

Tsurumi ignored the chatter and continued. You struggled to focus. Your mind drifted off into fantasies of catching the camp director in the act and getting the hero treatment for saving the day. They were fun scenarios to entertain, but deep down you didn’t crave glory or even recognition. You just wanted to be right.

To no one’s surprise Tsurumi managed to convince everyone to stay one more night in order to return the camp to its previous barren state. It was depressing to snuff out the last remnants of the camp’s life, but necessary so Tsurumi could get back his security deposit. It was impressive to see how impermanent everything was. What took a week to create was dismantled within a day, a notion that haunted you to no end. You hated to think everything was so transient. It beckoned you to hold on tighter to your memories, to the bonds you fostered. If they were going to be ripped away, they would be marred with ghostly reminders of your feral grip.

Throughout the day you orbited around Ogata, searching for tasks that required you to be near him. Despite your attempts to be discreet, anyone with a brain could see your passive clinginess. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t want to risk an awkward conversation. When you finally built up the confidence to speak to him he was swept away by a bored sheriff wearing mirrored sunglasses.

“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Shiraishi said, startling you.

“Yūsaku obviously,” you scoffed as you swept the porch of a cabin. “Whatever. It’s not like I care.”

He laughed loud enough to grab the attention of the sheriff. Ogata was undisturbed.

“I feel bad for him.”

“Yeah?”

Shiraishi frowned. “Yeah, like his brother’s dead. He’s a total weirdo with no friends. And he’s short.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re shorter than him.”

“I am, but I’m sexy and have friends.”

Ogata was sexy, but you opted to keep that to yourself.

“Okay, and?” you said bristling with annoyance. “Go bother someone else.”

“I actually had a reason for bugging you. Sugimoto wants to make s’mores tonight because we have a bunch of marshmallows. I was thinking we could turn it into a mini party.”

“A final hurrah.”

“Exactly!” he said as he walked away.

S’mores and cold beer sounded nice, but not nearly as nice as another night with Ogata. You watched as he stared lazily at the sheriff, his posture loose and mildly defiant. He wasn’t naive enough to believe Yūsaku hung himself. He must have caught onto how strange Tsurumi was. There was no way he hadn’t. He was perceptive. You couldn’t help but feel as though you were kindred spirits.

When the sheriff finally left you decided to approach him.

“Hey,” you said gently. “I just wanted to, you know…uh. I’m really sorry about your brother.”

“Why? Did you make him kill himself?” he said, his gaze friendly yet cold.

You laughed and shifted uncomfortably.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. Is there anything I can do?”

“Hmm. I don’t know.” He closed the distance you kept. “How far are you willing to go to comfort me?”

“A normal amount. If you need to talk or anything, I don’t mind listening.”

“Would you mind choking on my cock again? I found that to be very soothing.”

Ogata’s words were grotesque rather than alluring. You couldn’t help but feel like he was just trying to scare you off. His vulgarity lacked any sort of intensity. The threat was hollow. You swallowed hard and tried to look less timid.

“Don’t be an asshole. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

He looked thoroughly amused. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You patted his shoulder with a platonic, heavy hand and headed off in a random direction. You were too frazzled to think that far ahead, but you walked into the woods with faux confidence.

All filthy memories fade out

You sighed in relief as the sun sunk into the horizon. Making s’mores and getting drunk by a fire sounded like the only suitable end for such a horrific venture. Shiraishi and Sugimoto met you by your cabin and aided you in crafting a fire pit.

“It’s so fucked up we never made these with the kids,” Sugimoto sighed, puncturing three marshmallows with a two-pronged skewer specially made for the act.

You sipped your beer. “We failed them.”

Shiraishi nodded. “We may be the dream team, but we weren’t perfect.”

“The what?!” Sugimoto struggled not to laugh as he crafted a picturesque s’more.

“Wh—who? Who’s the dream team?” you asked.

“Us! Me, you, and Sugimoto… obviously.”

“I had no idea.”

“I never said it out loud until now,” Shiraishi said solemnly.

It was hard to deny. The chaos that was camp proved to be a great conduit for bonding despite the horrors. You never would have made it through without Shiraishi’s humor and Sugimoto’s kindness.

“Dream team, huh?” Sugimoto said with a smile blooming across his face.

You punched Shiraishi in the arm. “Cute. I like it.”

Shiraishi blushed and shifted his gaze to the case of beer.

“How does the dream team feel about shotgunning some beers?”

Shotgunning some beers turned into shotgunning several. Stabbing the cans and chugging like your life depended on it was addicting. By the end of it you were all in a hazy trance. You collapsed down into your chair with too much vigor, sending yourself backwards into the dirt. You cackled like a witch.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Sugimoto asked. He was unable to hide his amused smile.

He held out his hand and hoisted you up. Shiraishi watched on, tears in his eyes, and stabbed another beer with his pocket knife. Beer spurted out of the hole and it sprayed all over. A dramatic “noooooooooo!" erupted from him as he tried in vain to suckle the rest of the beer out of the can. Sugimoto could barely hold himself together and lost his balance, sending you back into the unforgiving dirt and landing directly on you. His body was so heavy you thought you were going to suffocate. Luckily he rolled off of you within a second, wheezing with laughter.

The comedy of errors was too much. Not a single one of you went unscathed.

“I’m so sorry,” Sugimoto choked out.

You stood up and brushed the dust off of your body. “It’s okay. I’m alive. I made it. I survived.”

“You know,” Sugimoto said, still sitting in the dirt. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll have to meet up again before summer ends.”

Shiraishi wiped the beer from his lips. “That’s assuming we live.”

“Dude! Not funny.” Sugimoto threw an empty can at Shiraishi. It missed.

“I’ll probably die next,” you replied thoughtfully. “Tsurumi’s gonna catch on and have to silence me.”

“Stop!”

Shiraishi corrected you. “No, no. It’ll be me.”

“Yeah, you know what. It’ll be Shiraishi, and then you. And then me.”

Shiraishi pouted. “What makes you so sure you’ll live the longest?”

“I’m immortal, dumb ass.”

“If you’re immortal, why not protect us?” you suggested.

“Yeah!”

“I’ll obviously do that! That goes without saying!”

You looked at him, doe-eyed. “Promise?”

He stood up, his balance shakier than ever. It didn’t inspire much confidence in his ability to protect you, but you chose to believe in his conviction.

“As long as I am here, neither of you will die. I… I love you guys s—so much.”

“Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry. And I hate crying in the woods.”

You heard rustling in the distance. Sugimoto and Shiraishi didn’t seem to notice so you chalked it up to your intoxication. You focused your attention on the delightful little bars of artisan chocolate Yūsaku bought for the kids. Your stomach had been growling, begging for something other than beer.

“Gimme the stick thingy,” you barked at Sugimoto.

“Is that any way to ask me for something?”

“You’re talking like a caveman.”

You groaned. “Please give me a, uh,” you gestured towards the skewer resting at Sugimoto’s feet, “that item. Please, good sir.”

Shiraishi applauded your efforts like a real friend and spoke words of affirmation as you struggled to make a s’more. Neither of them stepped in to help you. They appeared to find your tribulation much too entertaining, and you were much too drunk to ask for assistance. However you managed to make four. The sloppiness didn’t detract from the flavor which was all that mattered.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Shiraishi said. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m tired.”

Sugimoto stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Yeah, I have a long drive tomorrow. I’m not trying to fall asleep at the wheel.”

It was almost painful to part ways. A little sliver of you was afraid to enter your cabin on your own. You knew there was no reason to be scared. It wasn’t as if Tsurumi was hiding inside, waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab you. There was no way he could have snuck past you, Shiraishi, and Sugimoto. One of you would have seen him, or at the very least heard him.

Your heart began to pound. You had heard something lurking about in the woods. It very well could’ve been him. Maybe you were too drunk to be vigilant and maybe Tsurumi took advantage of that. Your hand trembled as you reached for the doorknob. Your fear was heavy and looming. It was like you were slowly being crushed. Every inhale felt like it was catching in your throat. You slowly twisted the knob and pressed your weight up against the door.

“Hello?” you asked as if an assailant would actually respond.

You flipped the switch and your room was filled with soft, incandescent light. There was no one in sight, not a soul. The relief you felt was almost overwhelming. Your terror was replaced by a pleasant drowsiness. Sleeping through the night with no interruptions wouldn’t be a pipe dream.

And it seemed to be going along quite well…

Until you had to pee of course. The urge hit you like a truck. You sprung up out of bed and ran all the way to the bathroom, hoping you’d make it in time. You regretted drinking so much. If it hadn’t been for the beer you might have gotten an uninterrupted six hours.

Luckily you made it to the bathroom in time, but on your walk back you became keenly aware of the fact you were still quite drunk.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhh,” you moaned as you trudged back.

You passed Tsurumi’s cabin and it triggered a deep desire to indulge in some snooping. Moonlighting as a drunk detective seemed like an incredible idea.

There were no lights on in his cabin, which wasn’t odd considering it was the middle of the night. But everything seemed vaguely ominous given your state of mind and your desire to prove he was the murderer. You peeked in his window and saw him sleeping. He was face down, body spread out like a starfish.

“What a freak.”

“You’re the one watching him sleep.”

You spun around and saw Ogata. You opened your mouth to scream but he covered it. His hand was damp and smelled like soap. He looked unkempt, and seemed a little frazzled.

“I can explain,” you whispered.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe. Listen!”

He shushed you and grabbed you by the wrist. He dragged you away from Tsurumi’s window.

“Can I talk now?” You didn’t wait for an answer. “I think Tsurumi is killing everyone.”

He looked thoroughly amused. “What makes you so sure—”

“He’s a total fucking weirdo, Ogata! He, you know, like… Okay, I don’t have solid proof. But he did ask me about your brother. He was like ‘Ohhh, do you think Yūsaku was suicidal? Did he seem like a little sad boy with little sad boy problems?’ And I was like, ‘No.’ And he was like all… whatever.” You hiccuped. “Why would he ask me that if he wasn’t trying to find a way to cover up his crime?”

“You did work with Yūsaku. I don’t think it’s weird that Tsurumi would ask you about him. If I were him, you would be one of the first people I’d talk to.”

“Ogataaaaaaaaaa,” you whined. “Don’t be a shit.”

“All I’m saying is the two of you seemed close.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“I think he had a crush on you,” he teased.

“He didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for having one.”

You gave up on protesting. It wasn’t like he was actually listening to you. You turned your gaze towards the ground. It was then you noticed what looked like rusty stains on his shoes.

“You really shouldn’t wear white shoes.”

He looked confused.

“Yours are always s—so dirty.”

He stared down at his shoes and smiled. “I like them this way.”

You shrugged. “Anyway. I think Tsurumi poisoned Tanigaki with mushrooms.”

“What about Inkarmat? Usami? Vasi—”

“When did they find Usami and Vasily?!”

He paused. “They didn’t. I thought maybe you had an explanation for them going missing.”

“Oh. No. I haven’t really thought about them. Is that fucked up?”

“A little, but I like it when you’re fucked up.”

He leaned in and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You tried to let yourself fall into the moment, to let yourself be enraptured by him once more. But you felt uneasy. A part of you was screaming at you to stop. Your entire body tensed up and you pushed him away.

“Not here,” you sighed.

“Why not?” he said, rubbing the small of your back.

“What if someone sees?”

“There’s no one to see us.”

With your luck Shiraishi and Sugimoto would see you wrapped up in Ogata’s arms and never let you live it down. A greater horror would be Tsurumi catching you. He would have no issue disposing you.

Ogata didn’t share this concern. He simply shoved his fingers down your shorts and rubbed your clit through your underwear.

“You don’t need to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. I don’t want to get caught.”

“Hmm,” he purred as he nuzzled his face in your neck. “Getting caught could be fun. We could finally reveal our true nature.”

His wording puzzled you.

“Wait, what true nature? That we’re fucking?” you asked.

“Don’t play dumb.”

He let his fingers graze your cunt. His touch was hypnotic. You felt like you were melting in his arms. The world around you faded away, your concerns were nonexistent. Everything was a distraction queued for destruction. He kissed your neck, his stubble tickling you. You felt his teeth graze your skin. A smile crept across your face as he bit into it. Your knees buckled as he bit down a little harder. Your head was spinning.

“I need to taste you,” he said against your neck, pulling down your clothes.

The night air was brisk against the skin of your ass. He kissed the nape of your neck as he hands traveled down your waist, stopping at the dip of your hips. He got on his knees and stared up at you, eyes dark with ardor, before giving your clit a languid lick.

He lapped at your cunt like a starved animal. It was like he was trying to consume you. You felt so desired, so adored. His tongue was dizzying. You nearly lost your balance as he buried his face in between your thighs. He grunted and gripped your ass to steady you.

You gasped as he dug his fingers deeper into your skin. His sweetness was always tinged with a little cruelty. You felt like you were falling in love with him whenever he was rough with you. Your pleasure seemed endless. It was something to get lost in. He shielded you from the tragedy that had overtaken your life.

You ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re so good at this.”

“I know,” he groaned.

His haughtiness was unfortunately warranted. He could work wonders with his mouth. He rolled his tongue against your throbbing clit. Your knees trembled as your orgasm began to bloom. You tried to speak but all you could do was whimper his name. You felt like you were floating away.

Moaning soon became the only thing you were capable of doing. Your body was limp and swollen with lust. The only reason you were upright was because of Ogata’s steadying grip.

“Are you really going to come already?” he teased.

“Yes!” you choked out.

He held your clit between his lips and sucked. Your head rolled back and you murmured a string of obscenities. Euphoria wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the heights you were ascending to. You drenched his face with your arousal as your orgasm echoed through you.

“Sor—”

Your demure apology was interrupted by a pained moan coming from the distance. You crashed back down to earth.

“Did you hear that?” you asked.

Ogata didn’t respond. He simply stood up and wiped his chin.

“Let me walk you back to your cabin.”

“Uh, yeah sure. But did you hear that? It sounded like a person.”

“I didn’t hear anything. Your paranoia is getting the best of you.” He grabbed you by the hand. “Come on.”

He didn’t say a single word on the walk back. He didn’t even look at you. You felt like a ghost.

“Thanks… for escorting me.”

“It’s no problem,” he said with a smile.

You were convinced you would never fully understand him, that he would always keep you on your toes. And maybe that was the appeal. It was a danger you didn’t mind dancing with, something low stakes in comparison to people getting fucking murdered.

With my eyes closed I offered myself to the sun

It was your final day and you jumped at the opportunity to interrogate Tsurumi. It didn’t matter if you were the only one that thought he was the cause of all the camp’s calamity. The lack of faith from your friends didn’t deter you in the least. You knew you were right and soon everyone else would know as well.

“What the?”

You saw a heap in the distance, something keeled over just beyond the trees. The sun sliced through them, drowning whatever it was in unforgiving light. You heard the faint buzzing of flies and your stomach dropped. The familiar sensation of spit pooling in your mouth triggered a lethal anxiety within you.

Every step you took made you more and more nauseous. A horrid smell swarmed your nostrils. You couldn’t help but gag.

“No,” you said quietly, looking down at the heap.

It was Sugimoto, face down. His arms were stretched in front of him, fingers caked with dirt.

“Saichi, get up.” You squatted beside him. A prayer circle of jet black ants surrounded his body. “Get up. You’re supposed to keep me and Shiraishi safe, remember?”

There was no hope and yet you tried to hold onto it. You wanted to roll him over, thinking maybe you could rouse him. You saw it in movies all the time, the classic fake-out death trope. You’d slap him around, maybe yell and cry a bit, and his eyes would flutter open. He would apologize for worrying you and you’d tease him for how rank he smelled.

“Oh fuck!” you screamed as you rolled him onto his back.

His chin was coated with dried blood. His stomach had been cut open, entrails butchered and hanging out. You looked just beyond his body and saw a trail of blood and intestines. You started to sob. Sugimoto didn’t deserve to suffer such a heinous demise. Why couldn’t Tsurumi have just killed him outright? Why did he have to exercise his will with such cruelty? You hated him and his flagrant barbarity. Your rage washed over you. The desire to throw yourself over his mauled body and wail was extinguished.

“I’m so sorry,” you cooed, stroking his hair. “Tsurumi’s not getting away with this.”

In order to properly avenge Sugimoto you needed Shiraishi, but you didn’t even know if Shiraishi was alive. You grabbed Sugimoto’s pocket knife and bolted to Shiraishi’s cabin. You kicked the door in and all you saw was an unmade bed, empty bags of marshmallows, and all of his belongings scattered around an empty duffle bag.

You kept running out of sheer desperation, searching Shiraishi’s usual haunts to no avail. He must have been killed too, another counselor disappeared by that freak Tsurumi.

Your bravado began to melt away. The more you thought about it the more you realized you likely couldn’t hold your own against Tsurumi. You were nothing without the dream team.

There was always Ogata, but if Sugimoto was slain by Tsurumi with such ease then Ogata didn’t stand a chance. You were enshrouded in a sinking loneliness. It made every step an ordeal but you continued your march to Tsurumi’s cabin.

Your head was swimming by the time you got there. You didn’t even notice the door was already open. As you stepped inside you heard a series of loud, wet thwacks.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

Ogata stood over Tsurumi’s twitching body, bashing in his skull with the butt of his own shotgun. Pale foam seeped from his parted lips. You watched in horror as his face gradually became unrecognizable carnage with each of Ogata’s blows.

“Why?” you squeaked.

“What do you mean why? I did this for you.”

“This is not what I wanted.”

“Yes it is. You thought he was killing all your friends and it bothered you enough that you whined to me about it.”

“I didn’t tell you those things because I wanted you to kill him! Fuck! Now the cops are going to think you killed everyone!”

He cocked his head to the side and stared at you. You froze in place like a deer in front of a speeding truck. He looked gutted.

“I did kill everyone.”

You bursted into laughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“Stop it! No you didn’t!”

He stepped over Tsurumi’s corpse, gun still in his hand. You backed out the door, trying to keep distance.

“Yes I did,” he said. In the sunlight you saw how much of Tsurumi’s blood ended up on him. He was dappled with crimson splotches. “That’s why you told me about Tsurumi. You wanted him gone and you knew I’d take care of it.”

Your mouth was agape. You refused to believe him.

“You—you’re not serious. Please tell me you’re not serious. Please.”

“I’m se—”

“No! Shut up! You didn’t do it. You didn’t do any of it. You… You couldn’t. Right? Right?!”

His disappointment was palpable.

“Why are you acting like this? You knew what you were doing when you talked to me about him.”

“I never said I wanted you to kill him! I never fucking said that!”

“Stop screaming. I’m right here.”

Your eyes were becoming glassy. Tears were imminent.

“I never said that,” you said quietly.

“You didn’t have to. I knew what you wanted. We see things the same way. You hated all of them as much as I did.”

“What? I didn’t hate any of them.”

“Oh so you liked Usami?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead.”

He sighed heavily. “You don’t need to pretend anymore. They’re all gone.”

“Pretend? I’m not pretending.”

“Drop the act. I didn’t mind it before, but now there’s no reason for you to hide yourself from me.”

Everything was spinning around you. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was absurd for him to think you harbored as much hatred as he did. Sure, some of your fellow counselors got on your nerves, but being annoying wasn’t a death sentence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not hiding anything.”

He tried to pat down his unruly lock of hair. “So you’re saying I’m wrong? You’re nothing like me?”

“Yes! I could never dream of being as monstrous as you! How fucked up do you have to be to decide you can just kill people for, I don’t know, being annoying or stupid or whatever?”

“It’s not like I intended on killing everyone. I just wanted Yūsaku gone, but then I caught Tanigaki and Inkarmat 69ing by the lake and it spiraled from there.”

“Th—that’s why you killed them?”

“It was disgusting, okay.”

“Was it more disgusting than what we did?”

He glared at you. “What we did wasn’t disgusting. Tanigaki and Inkarmat didn’t actually care about each other.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They barely knew each other. You can’t like someone that much after, what, a week?”

“Does that mean we don’t like each other?”

“No!” He took a measured breath and regained composure. “It’s different with us. You know me. You understand me.”

“I don’t understand you at all.”

“But you were… so nice to me.”

Neither of you spoke. The only sound was the wind cutting through the trees. You thought back to old conversations you had with him and tried to see where your ignorance blinded you. There were plenty of times you should have known it was Ogata, but you were so caught up in blaming Tsurumi for everything.

It was hard to reconcile the man you had your heart set on was a cold blooded killer. You wanted your feelings to subside, but they remained despite his horrendous crimes. Part of you needed to fix him, to save him from himself. Maybe if you had caught on sooner you could have stopped him. There were so many what-ifs running through your mind you almost forgot where you were.

“Did it not mean anything to you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Being nice to me. Was it an obligation?”

“No. I think… most people deserve kindness.”

“Even someone like me?”

You tried to ignore the shotgun in his hand. “Yes… especially you, Hyakunosuke.”

“After everything I’ve done?”

“Ye—yes.”

“Liar.”

He aimed the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. You tried to catch him in your arms, but you weren’t strong enough to carry that weight. You fell to your knees and cradled him. His face was nothing but an open wound. You wept as his blood seeped into your clothes.

“You were never an obligation.”

You wiped away your tears and got his blood in your eye. It burned, but it was nothing compared to the sinking feeling in your heart.

“Holy shit!!”

Shiraishi came barrelling out of the woods. His lip was busted and he had dried blood under his nose.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

Shiraishi kneeled in front of you. You looked down and noticed his hand was resting in what used to be Ogata’s face.

“Shiraishi, your hand.”

He fell backwards and kicked himself away from Ogata’s corpse. He wiped his hand in the dirt.

“He, uh, didn’t hurt me. I’m fine… I thought you were dead.”

“Nah. I just let him beat the shit out of me and pretended to be dead. I didn’t think he’d fall for it. Have you seen Sugimoto?”

“He… he didn’t make it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shiraishi helped move Ogata off of you. He looked horrified once he saw how much of Ogata’s blood had ended up on you. The coppery scent was impossible to ignore.

You were thankful Shiraishi was still alive. He took charge for a change, deciding your best course of action was to go to the mess hall and contact the authorities. It wasn’t until you got there that he realized his phone was dead. You both sat in silence as it charged.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked after checking his battery life.

You nodded.

“Did you like Ogata?”

You didn’t want to admit it. You couldn’t imagine a world where Shiraishi would understand the complexity of your feelings. He never liked Ogata in the first place.

You tried to slaughter the sentimental romantic inside you. You thought about how mean Ogata could be, the awful things he’d say to you. You thought about Sugimoto and how he tried to drag himself to your cabin despite being gutted like a fish.

“No,” you scoffed.

Ogata was right. You were a liar.

#ogata hyakunosuke x reader #ogata x reader #golden kamuy x reader #golden kamuy smut #ogata smut #reader insert #x reader #.fics #.gk #.ogata

255 notes · View notes

writingwhimsey · 3 months ago

Text

400 Follower Celebration

In the poll you guys voted for HC prompts. And since my last follower celebration was fun, I thought I would do something similar. So I have a list of Fluff HC prompts. Smut/NSFW HC prompts, and crack HC prompts.

Rules: Select a prompt and up to three suitors for the prompt.

Suitor options:

ikesen: all suitors except Kicho (still haven't read his route and I don't feel like I have a grasp on his character)

ikevamp: Comte, Leonardo, Napoleon, Motzart, Arthur, Vincent, Theo, Jean, Vlad, Faust, and Charles

ikepri: Leon, Chev, Clavis, Jin

Prompts

Fluff:

Suitor react to MC/reader telling them she's pregnant

Suitor takes care of sick MC/reader

Suitor reacts to MC/reader making their favorite dish

Suitor plans birthday party for MC/reader

Suitor as dad

Suitor reacts to seeing MC/reader as bride on wedding day

Suitor and MC/reader getting ready for a date together

Suitor and MC/reader cooking together

How suitor would propose

Suitor reacting to MC/reader playing with their hair

Free Space (any other fluffy prompt you would like)

Crack Prompts:

MC/reader makes suitor wear "pregnancy" belly to see what it's like

Suitor reacts to MC/reader pranking them

Suitor pranks MC/reader

Suitor reacts to MC/reader bringing home unusual pets

Suitor reacts to MC/reader's terrible cooking

Free Space (any funny/crack HC you would like)

Smut/NSFW prompt:

Suitor finds MC/reader's "toy"

Suitor reacts to MC/reader in a bikini

Suitor's favorite position

Suitor's kink

Suitor reacts to MC/reader's kink (pick whatever kink you would like)

Suitor reacts to MC/reader domming them

Suitor reacts to MC/reader wanting to be tied up

Suitor reacts to MC/reader asking to be bred

Suitor's reaction to MC/reader teasing them in public

Suitor reacts to MC/reader's fantasy (you pick the fantasy)

Free space (any NSFW HC)

Hope you guys enjoy and we can all have some fun with this! Any questions, just let me know! And seriously, thank you all for your support! I am looking forward to having more fun with you guys!

Taglist and a few others who might be interested: @zulablaise @limonzu @kisara-16 @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es

@otomewonderland @lucyw260 @selenacosmic @bjorkshire-pudding @eventinelysplayground

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 @lettheratsin @atinyliliflower @venulus

@mllorei @fang-and-feather

If I have tagged you and you don't want to be let me know and I'll remove the tag. Just tagging some people who have supported me :)

edited to fix the tagging issue! Thank you to @mllorei for telling me how to fix it!

#400 follower celebration #whimsey event #ikesen #ikevamp #ikepri #ikemen sengoku #ikemen vampire #ikemen prince #headcaon #headcanon prompts #requests open #cybird ikemen #cybird otome

63 notes · View notes

erephene · 3 months ago

Text

— some sfw & nsfw art donaldson headcanons i have ;

we all know and love oral fixation art. this man definitely sucked on his thumb as a baby / toddler, nobody can tell me otherwise. he'd also drool.

since he lived with his grandmother, i don't think he had the best relationship with either of his biological parents.

a part of me thinks that when his tennis career really took off, he insisted on paying his grandmother back for all those years she spent raising him. of course, she declines. "it's not your job to provide for me, artie."

i believe when his grandmother died, so did that nickname; 'artie'. she was the only one to ever use it, and i think art finds it secretly disrespectful if anyone else uses it.

arthur 'praise kink' donaldson, everyone. i don't make the rules. regardless of which era he's in, this man thrives on it in the bedroom, whether he's topping or not.

this man lives to please whoever he's with in the bedroom. hands and knees, he's staring up at them with a dazed expression, panting lightly. "am i doing good?" "please— let me make you feel good, please—"

speaking of topping, i wholeheartedly think this man is a switch with a preference to bottom or be submissive

during his time at stanford, i don't think he ever really attended any parties. that is, unless patrick was visiting and he'd drag art along with him. art gives homebody vibes.

elaborating on that, he'd most definitely secretly resent any public tennis event, such as a small gala or press conference. having to mingle with superficial women who only have eyes for the weight of his pockets, men with too bright and blinding veneers, it's exhausting.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson headcanons #mike faist

72 notes · View notes

starshapedb0x · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧˚ · .

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you go on vacation with your good friend Audrey, your other friend Arthur and your bestest of friends, Oscar. There’s things that can’t be left unsaid.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (read at your own discretion), it’s very little though, fingering (f receiving), innocent kink, mostly fluff really. NOT PROOFREAD (do not hold it against me pls)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Oscar Piastri x best friend!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: I honestly forced myself to write this one so not at all the best, but enjoy some summer visuals 🪽

You look at your half-packed bag as you fold the last one of the bikinis. You stare up at your best friend, Audrey, she’s lied down on your bed scrolling through her phone. Her bags packed to go, they were resting in front of the door, you’d agreed she’d help you pack so you both could finally go on vacation after a long college semester plus the exams to complete in the end.

Being in Portugal to study was a new experience for you, you’d travelled out of your country before but staying a whole year away from your family and home was different. It was hard, of course, staying away from everything you know for too long is always hard; but you’ve made so many friends, visited so many places, grown so much in this place that it almost feels like home. And overall, college was going well for you. Of course you’d talked about it with all your friends, specifically your one and only Oscar Piastri.

You’d known each other since you were still in nappies, your mothers were best friends and they insisted on often seeing each other regardless of where they were. As a consequence, their kids became friends, staying with each other throughout every difficulty that eventually showed up such as the distance between each other. You’d always had a thing for him, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him, partly because you knew he didn’t like you and partly because it was so hard to keep the friendship with the little time you were together, imagine a relationship.

As so, you convinced Audrey, Oscar and one of his friends to all go to Audrey’s house in Melides, she came from a Portuguese background, her roots were here, therefore she had family and houses, including the cosy beach house located in the south of the country. Five minutes away from the beach and with a considerably sized swimming pool, there was really nowhere else where you’d rather spend summer with your friends.

“Are you done packing? Their plane already landed we gotta hurry.” She asked, leisurely sitting up on your bed, turning off her phone and placing it next to her. “You’ll finally be able to see your beloved Oscar..” She grinned slyly at you.

“Don’t say it like that,” you replied timidly “I need you to help me close this bag.”

——————————————————

And a few hours later, that so familiar smell of summer invaded your whole being. The wind hitting your face as you let your arm slide with it, back. The four of you in that car with all the windows open, You, Audrey, Oscar and Arthur. Having picked them up from the airport, Audrey was driving, being guided by her phone which loudly indicating the directions over the music you and Oscar had chosen, and being guided by Arthur who contradicted the phone and yelled both in English and French. You were sat right next to Audrey, almost fully outside the window, looking at your final destination; Oscar right behind you, eyes focused on the way your hair flowed with the wild wind and on the wide smile you kept painted on your face. Arthur behind Audrey who now told him with all her teeth to shut up.

As the car finally parked, you opened the door and ran outside to pick up your bags and finally settle in.

To be honest, the first day wasn’t that big. You guys had arrived late and all the guys wanted to do was rest after the long flight they had gone through to be here, so everyone just had dinner, something you all quickly whipped up from remainders, and headed to sleep.

The next day, everyone was packed and excited to get to the beach. You could already feel the sand in your feet and the sun hitting your skin, along with the salty water covering your body. It was a quick walk to the beach where you all went chatting.. specially you and Oscar. Both of you stayed behind and caught up with the few things you hadn’t through texting.

“You know, I’m pretty stoked to be here for summer break.” Oscar said promptly. “I missed you.”

“I’m stoked you’re here too! We haven’t seen each other in so long.” You looked at him. Oh god, that face you’ve liked for so long, the past year without him was torture. “I misse—“

You couldn’t finish your sentence, in a millisecond, Oscar had dropped his stuff and picked you up bridal style, running into the sea quickly. You screamed in surprise, your arms flying around his neck tightly. Soon both of you were fully clothed thrown into the sea, playfully hitting and throwing water at each other. Your white flowy dress sticking onto your body, revealing the tiny bikini you had underneath. At the sight, Oscar stopped for a second. There was no way he could keep his eyes off you the rest of the trip.

The day went as usual, everyone tanned a fair amount — except for Oscar who refused to let you put sunscreen on his back. Of course, his back is fully sunburnt, a shocking red painted on it.

“Oscar, please, let me put After-sun on it.” You insisted.

“Fine, okay.” He finally succumbed to your wishes, figuring it’d be the best option.

Both of you went to the bathroom, as Audrey and Arthur made dinner, you could only hope anything good would come out of it..

You held the bottle of After-Sun spreading a generous amount on your hand, warning it up before placing your hands on your best friend’s back.

“OW!” He winced, arching his back, flexing it. You pursed your lips and felt your face getting warmer.. you knew he had to work out more in F1 but. Wow.

“Come on, don’t be a baby.” You smiled and let out a quiet chuckle. Running your hands along his back to spread the product.

“I’m not a baby, you’re just a little rough.” He turned around, holding your wrists and looking down at you. You looked up at him. The way he towered over you, pressing his body closer to yours and leaning his face down. “Be gentler, yeah?”

You nodded, looking down at his dangerously close lips, then back into his eyes. His breathing hitting your face, your foreheads and noses pressing against each other, Oscar looks down at your lips and—

“Hey guys! Dinner is ready. Everything good in here?” Arthur had slammed the door open, and with the noise, both of you jumped away from each other. Your face went bright red while wiping your hands off the After-Sun to a nearby towel. Oscar scratched the back of his neck, looking around, face heating up.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right there.” And so you did.

After that, you got frustrated. The next days, Oscar did not say a word to you. Well, you didn’t say anything to him either but — on your fourth day of beach together and he had no intention of talking to you about what happened in the bathroom? And this kept you awake at night. You were tossing and turning wondering if you had done something wrong. Should you have kissed him? Maybe he just doesn’t want to be with you. Whatever it was, he had to tell you himself.. even if it was hard to hear, you had to. Living off waiting had always gone wrong for you. You got up from your bed, in your sheer night gown, not bothering to get your slippers on even if the tile floor was cold. You walked out the door and went right into where you knew was the bedroom he was staying in. You looked at it a rethought your decision, but when your brain decided it was better not too, your heart was banging on that door with all the strength it had. In a matter of seconds it was open.

Oscar looked you up and down, and kept his head up to look into your face — your night gown didn’t leave much for the imagination. “Y/N..? Are you okay? Can you not sleep?”

“Why are you avoiding me? Do you not like me? Is it because of what happened in the bathroom? I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to almost kiss you! I mean I wanted to but if you—“ His lips gently pressed against yours and his arm slid around your waist. You let yourself melt into his touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m in love with you.” He simply said, mouth pressing kisses along your cheek and jawline. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, he looked really lovesick now that you stared at him properly. You kissed him yourself this time.

He pulled you in to himself and closed the door behind you. You were pushed against the door and his hands slid along your half revealed skin, pulling and tugging on the sheer fabric. His mouth in yours in a way you’d never experienced before. If you were honest, you had no idea what to do.. you tried to keep your arms around him while he made your body feel in places it had never felt before.

“Oscar..” You whined. You had no idea what you were begging for, but he knew. And you knew he knew.

“Y/N, Y/N.. wait hold on. I’m.. uh. We’ll talk tomorrow-“ He figured it was a little to early for all of this, he couldn’t just jump in as much as he wanted to.

“What? No. You made me wait so much.” You looked down, his hard-on visible through the pajama pants. “Is it because of this?” You slid your hand over, palming his full clothed dick.

He looked down at you, mouth open as if he was ready to moan at any given moment. And you looked up at him sweetly, like you had no idea what you were doing, innocent little you. “Y/N, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He was right, you actually had no idea what to do. Your experience was based purely off the one time you watched porn. “I can finish it.” You said promptly, although not very confident of your skills. Oscar grabbed you by your waist, and you let yourself be guided by him. He pushed you onto his bed and looked down at you. You looked clueless and all he wanted to do was finally make you know how good he could be. How amazing he could make you feel. And wipe that innocence right out of you. He slid his own t-shirt off and slid his hands under your night gown.

“You look so pretty in this.. such an angel.” He whispered, his fingers swiftly reached your breasts where he cupped them and then flicked your nipples between his fingers. Your hand flew to your mouth as you looked down to what he was doing. The way his head lowered, and only so then you realized he was getting on his knees. You sat up, and Oscar leaned his head into the inner side of your thigh, sliding his fingers along the milky skin. Your hand flew straight to his wrist.

“Hm? Can’t finish it after all, princess?” He asked, he wasn’t gonna do anything you didn’t want him to but at this point why ask. You let go from his wrist, and his fingers got closer finally reaching where they were needed the most. He slid his fingers through your fold spreading the wetness you’d pooled right when started kissing you. “All this just for me?” Oscar looked up at you, but you look away, hand covering your mouth, eyes struggling to keep still. Shaking with anticipation, why was he making you wait so much. He clearly wanted to take his time.

His movements were slow and he only lightly grazed your entrance with his digits, your mind started wondering to all the things he could do from here, to all the things you wanted him to do from here.

#f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 #oscar piastri #formula 1 x reader #formula one #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fic

555 notes · View notes

imaginesforeveryone · 5 months ago

Text

Spunky Bitch

pairing: John Shelby x Y/N Warning: angst, swearing, sassy reader, smut, re-write of an episode (S2E2), baby kink Summary: You being a Blinder, and the right hand women of John Shelby all these years you did business with them a lot. This particular day you were doing things with the Italians, the Changrettas, and you just didn’t like the tone they were giving off.

Stood behind John Shelby, also your husband, in Charlies yard. You watched as Mr. Changretta walked towards you, accompanied by Finn, and his two body guards.

“You asked for a meeting out in the open, fresh air and the fine aroma of shit.” Arthur spoke as Mr. Changretta stood in front of the chair across from John. You let out a small laugh as Arthur spoke.

“Neutral grounds you say.” Arthur speaking again as you let the smile fall off your face and kept an eye on one of the two body guards that stood beside Mr. Changretta.

“This is hardly neutral ground,” He spoke to Arthur for the first time.

“Well, its what you’ve got.” Arthur said sitting on the chair beside John. Taking a step closer to John, and being almost shoulder to shoulder with Finn, but not really shoulder to shoulder at all, because now that kid grew tall.

“So, por favor, sit down.” Arthur spoke motioning Mr. Changretta to sit in the chair. Smiling slightly as you listened to the conversation. Resting a hand on Johns shoulder.

“Where is Thomas?” Mr. Changretta spoke to John.

“He got called away.” John replied back to him, who didn’t sit down as he was told from Arthur.

“He said he’d be here.” He rebuttled.

“and he just told you, Thomas got called away. What do you want?” You spoke up starting to get frustrated with them man. John looking behind himself at you and giving you half grin. He loved the sas you had. Even more when it was you sticking up for him.

“There has been a peace between the Peaky Blinders, and the Changretta family for two years now..” He spoke to John and Arthur. Seeing John smirk over at Arthur at what the man was saying.

“Do you want some tea or not?” John interrupted him. Mr. Changretta just looking at him.

“Here, love, pour the Italians some English tea. Go on.” John said motioning you to pour tea for them. Walking around John as you hand slid across the top of his back to grab the tea pot.

“We don’t want fucking tea.” Mr. Changretta yelled as you grabbed the pot. You looked over at John, who you could tell wanted to get up and shot him right in his head, but you also knew if this meeting didn’t go correctly, it would end bloody. Setting the tea pot back on the table and going back to you previous position behind John.

“We want an explanation.” He spoke to John.

“Well, I’ll have fucking tea.” Arthur said leaning forwards and grabbing the tea pot and making himself a cup of tea.

“An explanation for what?” John asked averting his eyes away from Mr. Changretta.

“The little Venice Restaurant on Forge Street was burnt down…” Mr. Changretta spoke.

“No. No. Couldn’t have been us, we was at a wedding.” John spoke interrupting him for the second time.

“You burnt it down to stop my son being at the same wedding.” Mr. Changretta stated to John.

“EHH, He wasn’t missed.” You spoke up causing John to let out a breathy laugh. Mr. Changretta pushing out a fake laugh.

“You are such big boys now. But once you borrowed clothes from us to look like me.” Mr. Changretta spoke. You were confused a bit by his words. You knew Mrs. Changretta was the boys teacher in school, but didn’t know how close they actually where back then. John adjusting himself in his seat, and looking over at Arthur.

“How’s the tea, Arthur? Is it..” John asked but stopped his sentence as he throw the tea out of the cup. Arthur making a disgusted face at it,

“Its cold.” He said looking up at the body guard to Changretta’s left. John averting his eye back up to Mr. Changretta.

“Please tell Tommy. We pay whatever he asks us to pay. We stay in our part of the city and off the tracks. But you tell him from me.” He spoke but taking a pause getting closer to John. You removed you hand from his shoulder to put your hand on your gun. John putting his hand out to let you know its fine.

“That my son will walk with any women in this city. Anyone he choses. Even if that women works for the emperor, Thomas Shelby.” John grinning at his statement but letting him speak.

“My son is in love.” John starting to snort out a of laughed.

“Sorry. Do excuse me.” He spoke through a bit of laughter, pulling the bill of his hat down to cover his laughing face and rubbing his eyes a bit.

“Carry on.” He spoke after he held in his laughter. Vicente pausing and just staring at John and he composed himself.

“And if he wishes, he will walk with the women he loves.” Vicente finished.

“Okay.” John said out to him, still trying to compose himself a bit.

“You know. It would be hard for your son to walk anywhere.” You spoke up behind John getting quite annoyed with the way Vicente was telling them what his son was going to do. Walking between him and Arthur grabbing the tea pot, and beginning to pour into a cup.

“With a bullet in each knee, wouldn’t it?” John finishing you sentence. Not what you were going to say, but you know now this meeting wasn’t going to go the way it needed to go with the words John spoke. Vicente now standing straight up. You looked over at Arthur who was looking over at John now, knowing that’s not what was needed to be said. John taking a sip from the cup you just put tea in and looking up at the now angry Vicente.

“Too much.” He said pointing a finger at John. Now blood boiling in your veins, you looked around to see what everyone next move was.

“You said too much, my friend.” Vicente said starting to walk.

“Sabini says, ‘suck and swallow.’ but no. Too much. I spit.” Vicente said as he spit on the ground in front of you. With slight giggle exiting everyones mouth. Hearing a chair being broken you looked over at one of the men who stood next to Vicente.

“Oh. Okay. A bit strong.” You spoke out to the man laughing a bit.

“Fucking hell.” John spoke after taking a sip of his tea. Arthur not looking to happy at all.

“Isaiah.” Arthur said to the young Peaky boy stood behind him. Isaiah Leaning over next to Arthur.

“Put two extra men on our pubs in Nechells.” He told him. John looking over at Arthur in confusion.

“What are you talking about, Arthur?” John asked.

“We’re not scared of fucking eye ties anymore.” You told Arthur.

“Don’t tell Tommy about the chair and clean this fucking shit up.” Arthur said to Isaiah ignoring what you and John just said to him. Standing from his seat and looking over at John and you with anger. John looking at him with an expression that said “what the fuck.”

“We’re not scared of fucking wops.” John said to Arthur turning around in his seat.

“Alright John.” Arthur said under his breathe.

“Come on lets get back to the shop.” You told John taping him on the shoulder. He stood up and threw his arm over you shoulder as you guys began to walk to the betting shop. Walking through an alley, John grabbing you by your hips and pushing you up against the wall and attaching his lips to yours.

“It so sexy when you stand up for me like that.” He said through kisses. You smiled and lightly pushed him away.

“How about you show me how sexy it is?” You spoke up at him now with his back against the other walls.

“Later love. We have to get back to the shop.” He said causing a puppy dog face to spread across your face. He just giggled and threw his arm around you again and continued your walk.

“Hey Pol. Can you help me real quick? I barely understand Arthurs writing. I feel like I’m super drunk trying to read them.” You said as you heard Polly walking into the office you and John shared, but she didn’t answer back just kept her eyes locked on John as he had his feet up, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. She then threw her newspaper on his desk. He looked up at her from the corner of his eye and still sipping his tea.

“Did we run Kempton yesterday or not?” He spoke to her breaking the silence and setting his cup down. But still had his eyes fixed on his newspaper.

“Danny Lee got drunk, instead of injecting the horses with cocaine, he decided to share it with his cousins.” She explained talking about the races that were being held at the racetrack the day before. John just closes his eyes trying to regain patiences about the situation and sided softly.

“Jesus Christ.” He spoke out about it.

“Its your brother-in-law. Tell Esme to speak about it.” She spoke back.

“Ex.” You spoke out from the side.

“Maybe be an ex darling but nobody divorces a Shelby. Shelby’s just get married again. I love you like my own kin darling, but I’m sorry to say you are married to a married man, who’s wives family is a big part of this company, and sadly we still need them.” She spoke to you but not looking your way. You sighed softly and sat back in your chair to see where the rest of this conversation was headed.

“look.” Polly spoke going back to the previous conversation.

“Before I start.” She said grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the other side of Johns desk.

“I don’t want you to do a thing about this.” She said then shutting the door. This really peaking your interest, kind of knowing what she was about to talk about.

“About what?"John asked already with annoyance in his voice and face as he took his feet off his desk to face Polly now. You knew what she was about to say was about the Changretta problem.

"Vicente Changretta’s son.” She said before taking a seat. John sitting up with s mile on his face and laughing.

“The one Lizzie was stepping out with.” Polly said.

“What, Angel?” He asked for confirmation of her previous statement.

“He’s no bigger than twopence with of change.” He spoke before letting Polly speak again.

“Well, he heard you threatened him directly to shoot him in his knees and not he’s going around Nechells telling everybody he’s going to kill you.” She spoke. You instantly standing up to begin your joinery to go kill him yourself.

“Sit.” John said. You rolled your eyes sitting down, crossing your legs and your arms. John grabbing a pencil looking as if he was writing something.

“This is Lizzie’s fault to start with, Tommy’s for leaving it up to you.” She told him.

“What are you talking about?” John asked looking up at Polly now with confusion on his face. Polly just look at John with a blank expression.

“We run London. We run the north, we run the whole fucking country. What do we care about some fucking Nechells Green Eyeties?” He spoke seeing him starting to get a little angry as he looked down at his paper again. You stood from you desk and walked over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders hoping to maybe calm him down a bit. You looked at Pol, who just raised an eyebrow, knowing what she said next was probably going to piss him off even more.

“We sent need to be getting involved in all these little piss pots.” Polly said back to John.

“What does Arthur say?” John said with his voice a little calmer. Pol again looking up at you and raising both eyebrows.

“That’s why I’m here and not him. If he said it, there’d be a fight.” Pol said getting ready to tell John what Arthur said.

“He says, apologize.” Pol said. Instantly shooting your eyes to hers then down at John, now lightly massaging his shoulders hoping it will help him from getting angry. He put his had to his face almost with a face of disbelief that Arthur said that.

“He fucking said what?” He said with laugh between words. You knew it wasn’t a good kind of laugh. He went back to scribbling on his paper.

“We own the city. But we dint need to rub everyones noses in it.” Polly said causing John to push his pencil hard into the paper.

“If the old man decided to make a stand, he might get Sabini feeling sentimental..”

“Sabine’s done.” John said interrupting Polly. There was defiantly an awkward silence now in the room as everyone just kind of looked around not making eye contact.

“They’re all done.” Polly said breaking the silence. John putting his fist up to his head and pushing his forehead into it trying to get himself as calm as possible. But, you’ve known John a while and there’s only so much that could be done to keep him calm, so you took your hands away from him and took a step back.

“They all pay up. But we don’t want rebellions.” Polly continued. John now sighing heavily still trying to keep calm.

“What does Tommy say?” He asked in a tone of regret even asking the question.

“Tommy’s busy. He left me in charge.” Polly spoke with a low but direct tone trying to make John understand.

“What do you say?” John asked twirling his finger, fixing his mistake with his eyes closed.

“Compromise.” Polly said sitting back in her chair.

“Mmm-hmm” John said under his breathe with s light smirk on his face.

“I’ve asked Lizzie to do it for you. She’s going to meet him, break up with him for good, apologize for any inconvenience, say it was all her fault”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” John screamed stranding and hitting everything off the table finally losing his cool. You just stood there in silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You know what ask this is?” John asked with a slight stutter.

“This is Arthur’s fucking missus.” He said starting to walk back and forth talking about Linda.

“Turn the other fucking cheek? We’ll be handing out bibles in the fucking bull ring with her cousins.” John said leaning over the desk to Polly before turning and grabbing his jacket.

“John, you don’t have to do anything. Lizzie will do it for you.” Polly spoke. You threw your hands in the air, and put them over your face knowing that was going tone make him more mad.

“ Then it’ll all calm down, and nobody will lose face.” Polly said as John walked passed her to the door. You followed behind stopping next to Polly.

“I’ll take his fucking face. How about that?” He said as he opened the door.

“John, do nothing…. ” Polly began but John slamming the door before she could finish. She let out a sigh and looked over at you.

“How do you deal with this?” Polly asked you.

“I’ll try to find him.” You said quickly grabbing your jacket and running out of the office and out the front doors. You saw Johns car driving away. You hoped into yours and followed him. Losing him. few blocks away. You drove in the direction of where the Changretta’s spent most their time. After about 10 minutes you spotted John’s car parked in front of a building. You parked and got out running to the front doors. But before you should open them, John came out. He had sweat on his forehead, and blood on the blade of his cap.

“John. What did you do?” You said backing up a bit. He ignored you and pushed passed.

“JOHN!” You yelled at him.

“Nothing y/n! Leave me alone!” He yelled back before getting into his car and driving away. You threw you hands in the air and sighed out.

“Fucking Shelby’s” You spoke out loud to yourself.

“Where is he?” Polly asked about an hour later as you sat in the kitchen with her and Arthur sipping tea. Tommy stood in the betting shop waiting for John to show. You heard the door close and saw John walk in with his hat in his hand and Finn stood next to him.

“All right, Finn, thanks for coming. Fuck off.” Arthur said as John stood, not making eye contact with anyone in the room. You were quite upset at how he treated you when you saw him. But here is where we’d get all the answers we needed.

“Finn, you can stay.” Tommy said walking into the kitchen, and Finn turning around too come back. Tommy stepping in the doorway.

“Sit down John.” Tommy said leaning up against the doorframe smoking his cigarette.

“Sit down.” He said once again when John didn’t the first time.

“John, you cut Angel Changretta.” Tommy spoke after a bit of silence. You looked over at John who just held his head down and listened.

“Even though Arthur told you to apologize.” Tommy spoke Arthur holding his head up to show that yes he did tell John that.

“Mmm-hmm” Was all John said to that statement.

“Polly told you to compromise.” Tommy continued.

“Mmm-Hmm” John replied again with.

“You chose not to listen to Mr. Apologize, or Mrs. Compromise.” Tommy said pointing his finger at each of them, causing you to sightly grin.

“And now I have an Italian walking around my backyard saying he’s going to kill my brother.” Tommy spoke after a slight pause. Making a fist of your hand.

“Not if he wants to join his son in having no eyes too.” You said quietly, causing everyone to look at you. You held you head down letting Tommy speak.

“So what do we do, John. Do we apologize or do we compromise?” Tommy asked. Seeming as if it was a trick question to you the way this conversation has been going. John sucked on his teeth looking down, and then up at Arthur.

“Oh, it was just something said as a joke.” Arthur spoke for the first time since sitting down. Tommy looking up at him away from John.

“Yeah but he’s your brother as well, Arthur.” He said lifting a hand and speaking with it.

“Yeah. I know I didn’t want to start a war over something John said without meaning it.” Arthur said looking back at Tommy. Tommy had a confused look on his face and looked away.

“So, should he apologize in Italian or in English?” Tommy said looking back at Arthur with slight sarcasm in his voice. Polly looked over at Tommy in disbelief he just said that and Johns eyes finally coming up off the table and looking over at Arthur, Polly and you.

“Or should we ask them which fucking language they prefer?” Tommy asked them. You now understood that Tommy was on John’s side about the decision.

“I’m not clear.” He said looking over at Arthur with anger on his face. Polly turning and moving her body is confusion and like she just had been disrespected in some way.

“You said while this business was going on in London, you wanted peace at home.” Polly spoke to Tommy.

“And the only way to guarantee peace is by making the prospect of war seem hopeless.” Arthur sitting back in his seat more tense than before, and Polly with her hand on him hoping to calm him down a little bit. Polly stared at Tommy with disbelief in her eyes.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again and again. Like taking brick out of the wall of your fucking house. Do you want to bring the house down Arthur?” Tommy said looking over at Arthur who was still looking away from Tommy and tense as ever. Arthur just grunting back at Tommy’s question.

“If you’re soft on rebellion, it’ll grow.” Tommy spoke. Polly grinning as she picked up her tea again, and Arthur getting up from his seat.

“Bloody 'soft on rebellion.” Arthur said standing up mocking what Tommy said.

“You did the right thing, John.” Tommy spoke looking directly at you now. You could see the lust in his eyes the way he looked at you.

“Now, we go on the offensive. We take two of the Changretta pubs, and we take them tonight. That’s it.” Tommy sad standing straight and now walking all the way into the room.

“oh! Right, for Christ sake, why?” Polly now raising her voice.

“Hey!” Tommy said as he began to walk away.

“WHY!?” Polly yelled back.

“Why? because we fucking can!” Tommy said walking back now and everyone settling back down as he raised his voice.

“Because we fucking can and if we can, we do. And if we lift our heel off their necks now, they’ll come at us. Do you want them to come after your wife John?” He said motioning to you.

“No.” He said in a low growl.

“Remember these are the bastards that wanted Danny Whizz-Band dead.” Thomas said with even more anger in your voice. Remembering back to when Danny was alive. He was a joy to be around when he wasn’t off his rocker. Arthur now pacing in front of the fire place and Tommy just staring at him.

“You’re getting soft, brother. Soft and weak. Save the Bible for Sundays, eh.” Tommy said to Arthur still not taking his eyes off of him and Arthur getting noticeably more angry.

“Finn?” Tommy said still staring at Arthur.

“I need to get to Hockey and then home. It’s been a long day.” Thomas spoke to Finn. Finn getting up and placing his hand on Johns shoulder as he passed him walking passed Tommy probably to go get the car ready to go.

“You take the Wrexham, you take the Five Bells. Arthur on the Wrexham. John and Y/N the Five Bells.” He said giving you guys your orders for the night.

“You get them signed over to us in the morning. You make sure the coppers stay away.” Tommy said to Arthur and Polly, who both now paid no attention to him.

“Don’t use the fucking phone, all right? There’s someone listening.” Tommy said before turning around.

“Oh and John.” Tommy said turning around one more.

“You fuck your wife in the Five Bells to celebrate what you have done.” Thomas said and finally leaving. John sat there in silence as he looked up at Arthur and Polly. Arthur looking at him and walking to him.

“Well done.” He said walking passed John and leaving. John turning to see Arthur leave and all you heard in the room was Polly slurping her tea and staring up at John, making you giggled just a bit. You got up along with John to start heading to do you assigned duties.

As you kicked the last person out of the bar, your felt hands around you turning you around and pushing you up the door.

“Tommy’s order, eh?” John said with a huge smile on his face. You smiled back and attached your lips to his. He lifted you from your feet and onto him. Before sitting you on the bar and ripped it off from the glass that laid on it from prior activities you guys indulged in.

“You want to fuck me Mr. Shelby?” You asked between kisses.

“ I want to do more than fuck you Mrs. Shelby. I want to put a baby in you. Right in this pub.” He said making your eyes go wide.

“Then come on daddy.” You said making him see red. Attacking your neck with his lips making you moan out a bit. He unbuckled his pants and slipped them down around his ankles. Then doing so for you. But not before he ripped open your top to make you breast accessible. Taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking furiously on it, you grabbed the back of his neck for leverage to stay up. His now sweaty hair not slicked bad anymore you yanked it back pulled his face to yours. You reached between you two grabbing his cock in your hand and guiding him inside of you.

“Oh fuck, John.” You moaned out and throwing your head back. As he pumped in and out of you he gripped your shoulder to give him leverage to pound into you.

“John, please don’t stop.” You cried out.

“Why, love?” He asked as he slowed down.

“NO, Please don’t.” You cried out as your grabbed around his torso to pull him into you.

“You want me to put a baby in you? You want to cum all over me?” He said stilled now.

“Yes, please please, making me cum. Put a baby in me.” and with that being said he quickened again, pounding even harder into you than before.

“John, I’m going to cum.” You spoke out with labored breathing.

“Go ahead , love. I’m right there too.” He said as you felt this cock twitch in side of you and he started to get shaky. You came and yelled out. Loud. As you clenched around him, he let out a stream into you. You felt the hot cum just all inside you, making you smile and giggle out. As he pumped a few small strokes and relaxed his muscles into you.

“Fuck. I love you.” He said lifting his head.

“I love you, John Shelby.” You said kissing him.

#john shelby x y/n #john shelby x reader #Joe cole #peaky blinder #imagine #imagines

64 notes · View notes

yelenasdiary · 2 years ago

Text

21 Questions || Attention to Detail

Pairing: FBI! Wanda Maximoff x Mafia Boss! Reader

Summary: Agent Maximoff has always been great at her job and reading people. After solving a rather difficult case with co-worker, Agent Romanoff, Wanda took a vacation to Greece, where she met Y/n, who was also taking a vacation from work. A little fun never hurt anybody, right?

Top! Wanda, Bottom! Reader, Mommy Kink, Reader has a penis, protected sex, oral (both receiving), slight degradation.

Notes: Flashbacks and/or memories are italic & have “~” before and after.

AC: Just want to give a H U G E thank you to @daddynattt for helping me with this chapter, you can all thank her for Wanda giving you mind blowing (literally) head.

21 Questions Masterlist

"Sorry about that" you smiled as you entered the meeting room and took a seat at the end of the table. You tried to keep your eyes from staring a little too long at the agent you thought was a high school teacher. "A-are you sure it's him?" you asked, looking at agent Romanoff. The red head nodded while she took in your body language, "we understand you were young when he went missing but we'd like to ask you a few questions. Anything you can remember about him can help the investigation" she explained.

"Investigation?" you frowned, "he was murdered?"

"Yes, we're sorry. We are still determining cause of death but from the skeletal remains, it was very clear he was murdered" Natasha replied in a soft but caring tone.

"I'm sorry, skeletal? I haven't seen my father since I was 14, not a single word and now you're telling me he's dead and he's a skeleton"

"We understand this is a difficult time right now and we're sorry that we don't have a lot of news to tell you. Once we know more, you will be the first to know" Wanda inserted herself. You looked at her for a brief moment and nodded, "well, if there anything I can to help. What can I tell you?" you asked, now looking between the two women.

"We will try to make this as easy as possible" Natasha replied as she took out her note pad. You felt the burning of Wanda's stare, it was clear to you that she hadn't told her co-worker that she knew you. "Do you remember the last time you saw your father?" Natasha asked, her pen ready to dot down any words that would leave your lips.

You took a deep breath in as you thought back to the last time you saw your father, not a pleasant memory but it was all that came to mind. "Uhm, I had just gotten home from school and he was arguing with somebody over the phone. I remember going straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. We had a personal chef at the time so I spent some time in kitchen waiting" you explained, your eyes dropped to the glass of water in front of you that Kate had kindly left.

"Do you know who he was on the phone too or what the argument was about?" Wanda asked, leaning forward slightly.

"It was always about money. He never really seemed to have time for me, or my mother for that matter. So I guess, growing up I learnt to ignore the arguing that came from his office but I always knew it was about money or business. I don't know if he was talking this person, but he said the name Arthur very aggressively before he hung up"

"That's great, names are good. Uh, I'm sorry to bring this up but your mother, she passed away in a very short time before your father went missing. How was he dealing with that?" Agent Romanoff questioned as she finished writing a sentence on her note pad. Wanda noticed the way you slowly looked up at Natasha, slightly chewing on your bottom lip from the inside and how you shifted slightly in your seat.

"I don't know" you replied, looking directly at Natasha. "He never showed any sort of grief from what I can remember" you added. Wanda saw how uncomfortable you seemed on the topic of your mother; you reached for your glass of water and took a sip as agent Romanoff took more notes on your answer. "Before your father went missing, he had some issues with Senator Benjamin Arthur and again, we understand you were young at the time but if there is anything you can remember about anybody hanging around the house or maybe you were approached by a stranger? Anything can help a lot" Natasha asked as she looked up at you.

Your eyes looked between the agents once more before you shook your head, "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything. My father's business was exactly that, his business. I went to school, I came home, I did my homework and if he was having a good day, we'd go get pancakes or ice cream before dinner. He barely ever treated me like his child and when he did" you paused and let your eyes drop to a spot on the table in front of you. Silence filled the room for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, both agents trained to watch your body language and anything that might seem a little odd to them. "When he did, it was one of the best days I'd have in a while" you finally spoke, slowly looking up at the two women.

"Thank you for your time, Y/n. We'll let you have some space but please, if there is anything that comes to mind about your father that may be helpful, here are our cards. Call us anytime" Natasha replied with a soft but warm smile as she handed you her card with her details on it, Wanda slid hers across to you before both agents stood them their seats. "I'll be sure to let you know, thank you for coming up. I'm sorry if I wasn't much help" you replied as you also stood from your seat, "Kate will escort you out" you added giving them a light smile before sending Kate a slight nod through the glass window.

You watched as the agents were led to the elevator before you made your way back to your office where Kate shortly ended, closing the door behind her. "Everything okay?" she asked, seeing the troubling look on your face as you downed a mouthful of whisky, almost slamming your glass on your desk.

"They found him" you looked up at your best friend.

"Are you sure?" Kate walked up to the two leather seats in front of your desk, making herself comfortable as you began to pour you both a glass, sliding it to her, nodding. "They're investigating" you muttered before downing your drink once more.

"Shit" Kate gasps before she sips her drink, "are you okay?" she asked.

"Can you lock up this evening? There's something I need to do, I need to talk to Pa, I need to tell him" You replied. Kate shook her head, "of course, anything you need I'm here"

With Kate's word, you gathered your things and gave her a hug before leaving. You dreaded telling your grandfather that his only son was finally found after 13 years, although you always suspected he knew that your father was either dead or never returning. As for you, you weren't sure how to feel. Part of you felt relief, closure even but another part of you felt anger, sadness.

----

Wanda and Natasha returned to their office, both debriefing the crime scene and the notes Natasha took from your answers. New evidence and test results had come back in their absence, fingerprints from the set of keys belonged to the Senator, Benjamin Arthur and forensics were able to find the rest of your father's skull.

Before going to pay to the now retired Senator, Benjamin, Natasha and Wanda spent most of the afternoon looking over the crime scene photos, evidence and taking a fresh, closer look at the old evidence and case file.

"We have to question Sergei's father, Pavel. He was the last one to see Sergei alive" Natasha breaks the deep silence between the two. Wanda ran her fingers through her hair as she looked up at her co-worker and nodded. Her mind unable to shake you as she tried to process the shook of seeing you. "Yeah, I agree. Tomorrow we'll go see Benjamin" she replied, closing the case file in front of her.

--Later That Evening—

Music from your playlist played softly in the background as you checked the roast dinner you were making, tossing the vegetables to ensure they were cooking all the way through. A soft knock at your door made you pause the current song, and placing the roast back in the oven, wiping your hands on your apron before answering the door.

"Agent Maximoff, this is a surprise" you greeted the woman.

"We need to talk" she replied, sternly.

"You're just in time, dinner isn't too far off" you open your door wider for the agent to enter your home. She walked in slowly, the smell of your dinner welcoming her better than you had. "Can I get you a drink?" you asked, walking ahead of her and returning back to the kitchen.

"I'm not here as friend" Wanda replied, watching you tidy up the island in front of you. "We have to talk about Gr-"

"No" you looked up at her and shook your head, "We'll talk about it over dinner. You owe me that much" you added, not breaking eye contact. A moment of silence was shared between the two of you before Wanda gave you a light nod, "okay. Dinner that is all"

"Just dinner" you turned on your heels, grabbing a clean glass from the cupboard, "A drink?" you asked.

"Water will be fine, thank you" Wanda's eyes traveled around your kitchen, allowing herself to take in the way your home looked. If the situation were different, she would've complemented your taste in art and the beautiful red oak kitchen island that was littered with the mess of your cooking. She watched as you handed her a glass of water before returning your attention to the vegetables that were on the stove.

"You can take your coat off if you'd like" you spoke, feeling her eyes watching you.

"I'm fine" Wanda replied before taking a mouthful of water. You grabbed two plates and some cutlery before turning around to face the agent, you smiled softly. "Another ten minutes and it should be ready, I'll just set the table. Do you want a tour?" you asked.

Wanda shook her head lightly, "I just came here to talk. The quicker we can do that, the quicker we can move forward"

"What is there to move forward from, tell me" You walked by her, placing the plates on the table. Wanda followed behind you, "you know exactly what I'm talking about" she replied as you pulled a chair out for her.

"You'll have to refresh my mind, I just had some terrible news today, so things aren't exactly great"

"So, it was terrible" Wanda raised a brow, pulling out the other chair and taking a seat.

"My father was found, dead and confirmed to have been murdered. I'm not exactly cheerful about it"

"You had me fooled" Wanda looked up at you, her eyes followed you as you returned to the kitchen, turning off the oven and stove. "My father wasn't the best man so forgive me for not being overly hysterical about it" you looked across the room to her, "besides, your off duty, right? Let's not talk about my father. Would you like gravy?" you added. The woman nodded, brushing your comment off.

Silence once again filled the room as you dished up the roaster dinner, kindly placing the food in the center of the table for you both to help yourselves before taking a seat across from Wanda. "It looks lovely, thank you" Wanda broke the silence, she was never raised to have bad table manners and not that she wanted to truly let you know but she hadn't eaten all day and the smell of the feed you made only made her more hungry, grateful that you forced her to stay for dinner.

"You have a fancy role for a high school teacher"

"How was I supposed to know that I'd come and see you? You were just a stranger in a bar that" she stopped herself some saying anything more.

"That what? Had sex with?" You finished her sentence, her eyes dropped to the plate of food in front of her, tossing a carrot back and forth with her fork. "I didn't mean it like that" she replied, "my co-worker, agent Romanoff, she can't know. Nobody can. I know we slept together before all of this, but they won't see it like that. I should've told my boss the moment I saw you that I shouldn't be working your father's case."

"Then why didn't you?" you asked. Wanda slowly looked back up at you, unable to answer. "You think it about, don't you? That night, you and I" you lent back in your chair while Wanda sat in silence, "tell me it plays on your mind" you added.

"I should go. I'm sorry" Wanda stood from her seat, you quickly did the same and followed the woman to the front door. "Don't go" you gently grabbed her arm, "it's okay" you added when she looked at you once more. She shook her head, "it's unprofessional" she replied softly.

You couldn't help yourself, brushing a lock of her long brown hair gently behind her ear, "I think about it too" you said in an almost whisper, wanting nothing more than to feel your lips on her skin again. "We can't" she stepped back, her back up against your front door. You stepped closer to her, gently placing your hands on her hips, your eyes flickering to her plump lips. "I can't get you off my mind, the things we did, the way you were" you paused, leaning slightly forward until your lips connected with the naked skin of her neck. Without control, Wanda lifted her head up, giving you more access, letting out a soft moan as you kissed up to her jaw.

"Please, I need you" you whispered, kissing her cheek before pausing your movements to look at her lips, "nobody has to know, I promise" you added. Her lips never looked more kissable then right now, running her tongue over them as she brought her hands up to your face, cupping you gently. "Nobody" she repeated, you nodded, "not a soul" you assured her before crashing your lips onto hers.

Wanda kissed you back with hunger, filling your mouth with her tongue while you lifted her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around your waist, never breaking the deep kiss as you carried her to your bedroom.

"You're so sweet darling" Wanda smiled against your lips as you laid her gently on your bed before she flipped the two of you over, straddling your waist while looking down at you. "Do you always think you're in control?" she asked, chewing at her bottom lip. Her hands running down your clothed chest, smirking at you before she ripped your shirt open. You shook your head, "use your words, tell me. Do you always think you're in control?" she asked you once more as she began to unbutton her shirt, one by one.

"No" you replied, watching the way her hands moved quickly from button to button. "Yes, what?" she frowned before pulling her work shirt off and throwing it to the floor then unclasping her bra. "No, mommy" you smirked when she looked at you once more. When she looked into your eyes, she completely forgot how unprofessional and wrong this was, but the memories of how she had you eating out of the palm of her hand in Greece were enough to keep the guilt from flushing in.

Wanda smiled softly as she crawled off you and completely removed her pants along with her panties, throwing them both on top of her shirt before crawling back on top of you, undoing the belt from your waist. "Hands out" she looked up at you with a light smirk. She didn't need to ask twice; you placed your hands out in front of you ready for Wanda to use your belt to tie your wrists together. "Keep them above your head, can you do that for mommy?" she asked, placing your wrists above your head as you nodded, "yes mommy, just want to be your good girl" you replied while she hoovered above you.

"Oh, baby, you're such a good girl for me" she kissed your lips softly, "mommy is going to use this pretty mouth of yours and you're going to keep those hands still, no touching. Do you understand?" She leant back, straddling your waist once more, waiting for your answer.

"Just wanna please you mommy, I'll be good" you replied, completely breaking for her. Not even assumed to show this woman who you barely knew, a whole side of you that nobody else ever saw.

"That's a good girl" Wanda smiled before moving up your body, her legs resting on either side of your face giving you the perfect view of her glistening pussy. Her warm scent made you crave her even more than before, you watched as she lowered herself on your lips, letting out a moan as you began to twirl your tongue around her clit. "That's right baby, show mommy how good you want to be for her, let mommy cum all over your tongue" her words were muffled as you continued to eat her out.

Every now and then dipping your tongue into her hole just to hear her moan, to feel her grip on your hair tighten. "Mm, baby, you're going to make mommy cum, keep going!" she moaned before she began to ride your face, her free hand toying with her hardened nipples while her other hand stayed running through your hair for support. With every moan, Wanda moved faster, grinding against your tongue, pinching her nipples harder, gripping your hair tighter as her moans got louder. "F-fuck baby, I'm cumming!" she moaned once more before letting her orgasm take its cause.

That didn't stop you, you continued to lap at her wet folds until she removed herself from your lips. "Somebody was hungry" she smirked before kissing your cum covered lips, cleaning herself off of them before biting your bottom lip. "Mommy, please, m' so hard" you looked at her. Your cock begging to be released from your boxers as your bulge had grown bigger by the second.

"Awh, baby, is this all for me?" Wanda bit her bottom lip as she sat beside you, running her hand up your leg and brushing over your bulge. You nodded with need, "only you get me this hard" you admitted as you heard her unzip your flyer. "Since you were so good for mommy, how about I give you a little treat, mm? Mommy will make it all better" Wanda replied before helping herself to remove your pants and pulling your boxers down passed your knees, letting your cock spring free.

You kept your hands above your head and watched as Wanda grabbed your length with one hand, a soft moan left your lips at her touch. She teasingly stroked you while looking up at you, your eyes closed as you grew harder at her touch. "Do you want mommy to suck you off? Wanna feel my mouth wrapped around your cock?" You couldn't stop the needy whimper from tumbling out of your mouth, nodding your head yes as you opened your eyes to see her making her way onto her knees in front of you. "Please mommy! I want your mouth" Wanda smirks at the neediness of your tone, she's got you right where she wants you.

"Shh, mommy will take care of you, stay still and look pretty while I make you feel good"

Your body instantly jerks as you feel her mouth wrap itself around your tip, your pre-cum causing Wanda to moan around you making you let out a moan as well. The feel of her warm mouth feels like heaven, it feels like nothing you have ever felt before, and you're scared that you may not last too long.

"Fuck.. your mouth feels so good" she takes her time, teasing you as she softly sucks on your tip while looking up at you with hungry eyes. "Mommy please.." She smiles around you and slowly takes you deeper, moving her mouth lower while maintaining eye contact with you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Oh God.. I'm not sure how much longer I can last" You are surprised at how well she can take you, you are not small by any means. Being 9 inches long and pretty girthy, you're shocked as she takes you deeper and deeper, desperate and needy moans coming out of your mouth as she takes all of you, her nose hitting your abdomen. The sounds of her gagging around your cock sends chills up your spine, and you're about to cum down her throat.

"Fuck! Mommy.. I-I'm gonna cum" you feel her hands sliding up and down your bare thighs, encouraging you to let go into her mouth as she stays there with your cock shoved down her throat. You grab onto her head with tied together hands, moaning loudly as you keep her head in place as you release into her mouth, spurts of cum shooting down her throat. She rides out your orgasm, greedily swallowing everything you give her, the taste of your cum causing her to moan.

"Just as sweet as last time" Wanda looked up at you before crawling on top, straddling your waist, "and a little more than I remember, have you been having trouble baby?" she asks, giving you a moment to gather yourself. You nodded softly with embarrassment causing her to chuckle, "it's not funny" you groaned.

"Since we last, you know" you paused for a moment as Wanda brushed your baby hairs from your face, "go on darling, tell me." She whispered, sending another shiver down your spine. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and it causes problems" you look at her, "problems only you can fix"

"Well, let's stop the chit chat and fix all those problems you've been having" Wanda smirked before pressing her lips against yours. A faint taste of your cum made you moan softly, remembering just moments ago how well the agent took you. Her hands reached to unbuckle your belt from your wrists, "protection?" she asked. You nodded and waited for your wrists to become free before opening your bedside drawer to grab a condom.

Without hesitation, Wanda grabbed the wrapper from you and ripped it open with her teeth. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip while keeping eye contact with you as she so effortlessly rolled the condom onto your dick. "Why'd you lie?" you asked, out of curiosity, Wanda shook her head and hushed you with a hungry kiss, biting your bottom lip as she pulled away.

Her lips kept you distracted while her hands worked on guiding you inside her, she moaned as you stretched her out, kissing you once more as she allowed her body to sink onto you until you bottomed out inside her. "I think about you" she whispered against your lips as you moaned softly at the slight moments over her hips. "I knew it" you smirked before you placed your hands on her hips, Wanda moaned once more as she sped up her actions, riding you just like she did in Greece.

"F-fuck I've craved this!" she moaned, throwing her head back while her hands landed on top of yours, forcing you to make her ride you harder. "Go on baby, show me how you need it" she spoke, "just this once" she added.

You felt like you were above the clouds, buried deep inside her like you'd been craving since you left her hotel room that afternoon. With a bit of force, you helped her grind harder against you, her moans made you believe you were going something good until she chuckled. "You're weak baby" she removed your hands, "I'll do it myself" she added before she began to bounce up and down on your length, you gasped at the way her pussy clenched around you, making it almost impossible to keep yourself from cumming too soon.

"M-mommy, slow down! I'm not going to last" you moaned, your fists gripping the bedsheets until your knuckles went white. "Cum for me baby, I'm not done with yet! Cum with me!" Wanda moaned before you felt her pussy milk you for every last drop the condom caught. In the heat of the moment, you didn't care about anything but making sure her pleasure was dragged out, sitting up, you wrapped your arms around her and began to thrust your hips into her while your lips connected with her neck.

"Oh f-fuck!" she moaned, her nails scratching at your back, "keep going baby, don't you dare fucking stop!" she added while digging her nails into you harder.

----

"You asked me why I lied" Wanda spoke softly as she pulled apart the small bread roll on her plate. You almost too distracted by her wearing one of your oversized tees as the two of you finally got around to the roast dinner you made hours ago. "Would you have still spoken to me that night if I told you I worked for the FBI?" she added, looking at you with her big green eyes that you now were able to really admire.

"Yes" you replied in a soft tone and a light nod.

"You're lying, again" Wanda's eyes dropped to the roasted pork between the two of you. "Would you have spoken to me if I said that I noticed you days before I came up to you at the bar?" you asked her, your eyes not moving an inch as she slowly looked up at you. "I had a drink at the bar every night, came in two days before and had dinner. I remember the way your eyes looked in the shitty lighting, almost like they were the brightest thing in the room. I wanted to talk to you right then and there, but you looked so peaceful with your book, I didn't want to interrupt you. But when you came in that night and sat at the bar by yourself, I wasn't going to let another moment slide. So, yes, I would've still spoke to you if you had of been honest" you explained.

A moment of silence was shared between you both, it was awkward or anything as such but you could tell Wanda was trying to keep her guard up and not allow herself to peel a layer of herself back for you.

"Did you know green diamonds exist?" you asked, breaking the silence. Wanda shook her head, "aren't they like altered to look green?" she questions causing you to chuckle. "No, they are do exist and they are so rare that less than ten get sold a year. I've only ever seen 1. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever see and I don't want to sound cheesy but that diamond doesn't come near as close to you"

Wanda smiled ever so softly that quickly dropped after a moment, "if things were different, I'd be different, but I can't, I'm sorry. You're really, really sweet and we've had fun, but we really can't do this" you could hear the disappointment in her voice even though she tried her best to hide it. "I need to know that you can act like we're never met. When we find out who killed your father, you'll never see me again, do you understand?"

You couldn't help but sigh, "never met you, never slept with you. Got it" your eyes dropped slightly. Wanda stood up from her seat, "I get changed and go, t-thank you for –"

"It's fine. Take your time" you replied before watching her wander back to your bedroom. While Wanda changed into her original clothes, you tidied the kitchen and dining room. "We'll be touch. We spoke to your grandfather today, again, I'm sorry" Wanda's voice entered the kitchen as you turned to face her, giving her a nod, letting the room fill with silence again as Wanda let herself out.

Once your front door closed, you reached for your phone, texting Kate.

"We need to talk. Come over, now."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #natahsa romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #21 questionsau #marvel

736 notes · View notes