#his boss recently asked him if she thought he needed to give himself permission to not work as hard at work
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whatimdoing-here · 6 months ago
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About to leave for A's baseball game and remember that my LSD shirt is us not kid appropriate. (From Neighbor Song)
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cubeshapedlemon · 5 months ago
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A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening
Norm gets transferred into another new job, in the agricultural sector. As much as he loathes working, he finds another reason to keep coming in.
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Norm Maclean x Chubby!f!reader
4.6k words
cw and tags: smut, fluff, lots of hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting (f receiving), piv, flirting, boss/employee romance (it's not a inappropriate power dynamic thing its just how the plot shakes out), breif cum eating, coming untouched, sub!norm, dom!reader, mommy kink
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authors note: heyy yall!!! this fic took longer than the last one cuz yk life but its still out earlier than i thought it would be. The fallout brainrot has been intense and norm deserves some love!!! please tell me if I missed anything in the tags or spelling/grammatical errors. And just as a reminder my asks are always open!!! please send me requests!!! (info in pinned post) I am starting on a new (requested) norm fic pretty much as soon as I have the time. Anywho, check out my masterlist this fic and any others that i post will be updated there. Enjoy! reblogs are appreciated but please do not translate copy or repost anywhere without my permission!
☆Reader pov☆
It wasn't every day someone new got rotated into one of the agriculture related jobs. It wasn't exactly appealing to most. But for you, you couldn't imagine doing anything else. Maybe that's why they placed him here, hoping your enthusiasm would rub off on him
The him, of course, being Norm Maclean. While the rest of the Maclean’s have a reputation of being dedicated hard workers, this trait was not held by the youngest of them. He didn't seem to be truly interested in anything, most of the time just fiddling with his Pip-Boy playing whatever game he had recently gotten.
When the council told you about the switch you were initially frustrated, hearing some chatter about how much he loathed every job placement he found himself in. If you remember your days of schooling together that sounds about right. While he was always exceptionally bright, he never seemed motivated to use it anywhere. Hopefully you could change that now.
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☆Norm's pov☆
Waking up today Norm managed to be in an even worse mood than normal. Yesterday's meeting with the council was pretty similar to the ones in the past. They berate him politely for a while, look over his performance review, chat in whispers to each other, and then reassign him. 
Though, this time they had decided to do things slightly differently. Usually they would assign him to a specific job, this time they just decided to send him to the agriculture sector, it now being the agricultural manager's job to figure out where he needs to go. Must be tired of handling specifics after reassigning him twelve times now.
Anyway, no use in dwelling on yesterday. Norm lazily drags himself out of bed, taking a quick shower before dressing himself and digging around in the fridge for some of the leftover Cram from dinner last night. Making no haste at all, he eventually makes his way to his new job. Only a few minutes late.
Looking around, he sees everyone else already at work, doing whatever it is they are supposed to do, occasionally stopping to have a quick chat with someone nearby. In his scan he sees someone walking towards him. Figuring she's the agricultural manager he was supposed to meet he gives a tight-lipped smile and an awkward wave. She responds with a polite smile of her own. 
Her walk is confident, hips swaying. She is built with clear strength in her, because of all the farmwork, Norm figures, despite this, her figure is still plush in all the right places. She has a bright, but powerful air around her.
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☆Reader pov☆
Looking him up and down, Norm doesn't seem to have changed much. While obviously he looks older now, his slight figure and short stature are much the same, his permanent scowl still there too. “Well, if it isn't Norm Maclean,” you say, offering your hand to shake. Taking it, he gives what seems like a sarcastic smile, greeting you by name as well.
Brushing that off for now, you continue. “As I'm sure is clear by now, you will be working under me. For the next few days, we will just be figuring out where to place you job-wise. How does that sound?” you ask, keeping a polite, professional tone. 
“Just peachy,” he responds with a sarcastically congenial tone. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into.
He needs someone to mold him, and you are happy to take on that role. While his underlying insecurity is clear, he has a smugness when it comes to work that needs to be broken. And you know just how to do that.
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☆Norm pov☆
Walking into work the next day Norm is greeted by you, your energy dimmer than yesterday. “You ready to start training?” you ask, no smile, no wave or handshake.  Something deep inside him pangs, he had no commitment to this job, just the same as his last. But in some vague way the idea that he had already disappointed you sits like lead in his stomach. Attempting to shake off that feeling, he tries to go back to his usual unwilling, and uninterested mood.
The first day is pretty simple. It mostly consists of him following you around and listening to you ramble off rules, policies and how the different systems work. When you get to the point where you are explaining the machine maintenance, his interest piques. You would think after being rotated through jobs enough times this would have happened once or twice. Evidently it had not. Though rather disappointingly, you move on swiftly.
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The following days were grueling. Grueling might be an overstatement, they were difficult. But he had some very enthusiastic help. You were always there to lend a helping hand on whatever task he was struggling at that moment. Many of those tasks being strength-based.
It's not like Norm was out of shape or anything, he just wasn't exactly on your level muscle wise. He would be lying if he said it wasn't nice on some level to see you walk over him with a sarcastic grin every time he struggled to lift something. Just like now in fact, as he struggles to move a particularly heavy crate.
“Need some help there pretty boy?” you come over chuckling, a blush rises to his face at your nickname.“Yes, please. Thank you,” he smiles, looking up at you. Smiling back at him you grab onto the crate, lifting it and setting it on your hip with only a small grunt of effort. “Walk with me,” you say, nodding your head at him as you walk to bring the crate to its home.
☆Reader pov☆
Keeping your pace you wait for Norm to follow you, after a moment or two he joins you at your side. “So, I've been thinking,” you drawl, attempting to get his full attention. “Yes?” he says, probably quicker than he meant to. His tone is clearly eager, but covered with a light veil of his usual sarcasm.
“I think I want to place you in repairs and data entry. You seem to be good at it, does that sound good to you?” you ask, already knowing what his answer will be. “Yes! I mean yeah, that sounds good. When do I start?” Norm looks up at you with gratitude, his too-cool facade breaking in favor of a sly-looking but genuine smile.
“You can start tomorrow,” you say, setting the crate down in its rightful place, turning now to face him. “I still have to get my use outta’ you here before I send you away,” you joke, giving him a smirk of your own. The blush on his face deepens, clearly taking your phrasing in a certain way. He turns his head to the side in a poor attempt to hide it. Deciding to tease him a bit more, you run your fingers through his hair before grasping at the roots. “You getting shy on me now, pretty boy?”
Norm's breath audibly hitches for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing in an almost comical fashion. “No,” he replies, if he was trying to sound convincing you couldn't tell, his tone a simpering whine compared to his usual one. “Sure, sure,” you concede sarcastically, letting go of his hair. “Come on now, there's still work to be done.” you give a playful pat on one of his cheeks before walking ahead a few paces. Not hearing him follow, you turn your head slightly to the side. “You coming Maclean?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Norm quickly answers, moving to follow you now.
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☆Norm pov☆
For the rest of the day Norm finds himself being exceedingly pathetic. While of course he has had crushes and flings in the past, the one he has now is different. In many ways it embarrassed him. Following the cliché of the dainty damsel in distress and the big strong hero coming in to save and woo her. He of course is the damsel, and the source of distress is just being bad at his job. Anyway, it fits it well enough. He truly did feel like the stereotypical damsel in this situation, he is a fully capable adult and yet he found himself so whipped for his ‘hero’ that he could not get anything done.
He spent the rest of the day periodically doing something of the smallest bit of use. But the majority of the time he was not-so-subtlety checking you out. At some point, you had pulled down your vault suit, tying it at your waist. This gave him a perfect view of your arms as you worked. Every once and a while you would catch him staring, chuckling at his desperate expression and embarrassment at being caught.
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Moving into his new job position, Norm quickly finds himself at home. There are only one or two other people in his same position so much of the day is just peaceful work on his own. While he does talk to and get along with his coworkers the person he really likes talking to is you. You check in with him in the morning before his shift, asking him how his day is going. All polite chatter with a cheek-burning innuendo slipped in every once and a while. Of course he finds ways to keep that conversation going when he can.
If only he had an inch more confidence. He would return your affections. He tells himself that you're probably just being polite, just regular friendly interactions. The fact that there had been a recent uptick in broken machinery that only he could fix was a coincidence. So was you just feeling like wearing a particularly low cut undershirt on days you felt like checking in on him more than normal. And how your hand always found itself on his lower back while he explained a maintenance issue to you.
You know, super platonic boss stuff. This routine sticks around. You continue with your usual flirts, flounces, and pet names. Oh god, the pet names. You seemed to be laying more on in every single conversation, not that Norm's complaining. After a little while he gains the confidence to flirt back a bit. If you can call his attempts flirting. He figures you get the message.
Today looks to be starting much of the same. Walking into the break room, he starts his regular routine. Putting his lunch in the fridge, making some coffee, and of course, talking with you when you come in three, two, one…
☆Reader pov☆
“Hey pretty boy,” you greet, as usual. “Morning ma'am” he responds respectfully. “Oh come on Norm, you know you don't have to call me ma'am,” You scoff, rolling your eyes at his formality. He chuckles at this, taking a sip from his coffee before refocusing on you. “I know, I know. It just feels right I guess.
“Well I guess I can't argue with that,” you concede, “It does just feel right to have you under me.” Norm chokes on his coffee at this, awkwardly sputtering it back in his cup. “As in our job hierarchy of course,” you smile, taking a sip of your own coffee. “Of course.”
Giggling to yourself for only a moment more you remind yourself of what you actually had to say. “Anyways, I'm writing up your first performance review today,” you inform, tone still light. “Oh?” he questions, anxiety pushing forward in his throat. “Yeah! No need to be worried, you've been an A+ worker these past few weeks.” you see as a wave of calm passes over him. You grin at this, stepping closer towards him. “I was just wondering if you would come to my place for dinner tonight. We could go over it, chat a little.” You step closer again, placing your mug on the counter, stepping in front of him now. Chests a breath away from each other.
You can hear his breath hitch, face turning red at your proximity. Running your hand across his jaw, you grasp his chin, tipping it up, he now looks up at you. Deep brown eyes shining with a glint of something you can't quite place. “Have some fun and such. What do you think about that baby? Sound good?” 
He manages to whine out an affirmative sound. “Good, 7 o'clock, don't be late.” you say, giving his cheek a quick pinch before turning around and bending over an unnecessary amount to grab your coffee off the counter and running off to actually do your job.
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☆Norm pov☆
The rest of the work day seemed to pass by at an unbearably slow rate. While Norm has plenty to keep himself busy with, he can't keep his mind can only fixate on your earlier conversation. Only a few more grueling hours until your little dinner date.
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Checking his Pip-boy for what seems like the millionth time today, It's finally time to clock out. Saying short goodbyes to his coworkers, Norm rushes out of work as quickly as possible without looking entirely stupid. He certainly felt stupid. Never in his life has he ever been this desperate for someone. 
Anyway, what do people even do to prepare for a date? Was this a date? Is all this tension not real? Is he just being a dick-brained idiot about all this? Honestly nothing could convince him one way or the other. But at this point who cares? He has to get ready anyway, he has to be presentable for you.
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☆Reader pov☆
You open your door at 7 o'clock sharp, and just as you agreed to, Norm is standing in front of you. He greets you with a smile. “On time for once, impressive,” you tease, leaning against the side of your door. “Well, I could never leave a woman like you waiting,” he flattered, “May I come in?” 
You chuckle, turning around and waving him inside, “If you promise to be good.” Walking in behind you he breathes out a laugh, “I think I can manage that.” You offer him a seat at the table, which he takes. Your apartment lights are dimmed slightly, the blinds are closed and you have put on some music. It plays just loud enough to be heard, still soft enough to blend into the background.
You busy yourself at the kitchen counter, putting together the last few finishing touches on the meal. “So, how have you been liking the new job?” you prompt, turning your head slightly towards him. “It's pretty good. Certainly better than the last twelve, that's for sure,” he jokes, attention still kept on you. Chuckling a bit at his comment you turn around, a plate in each hand. “Any particular reason you think? A certain task or, coworker, making it worth your while?” you ask, feigning cluelessness.
You walk to the table, setting the plates down while sitting opposite Norm. “You could say that,” he concedes, you hum in acknowledgement, using your fork to push the food around your plate lazily. Looking down at his plate Norm looks back up at you. “I really hate to say it, you went through all this work but,” 
“But what?” you question, concern bubbling lowly in your stomach. “I'm just not really hungry for what you've cooked.” he says, faux sadness in his tone. Catching on now, smile lightly to yourself. Moving your chair to sit closer to him, you play along. “Well I can make you something else if you want? What are you in the mood for?”
Pushing his chair back, he kneels in front of you, hands delicately placed in his lap. He looks up at you with an expression that can only be described as pathetic. “You.” Laughing to yourself you indulge him. Sighing, you run your hand down his face. He leans into your touch, releasing a small whine at the affection. “Is that so?” you tease, widening your stance so he can scoot in farther between your legs.
He nods, leaning further into your touch he delicately delicately reaches to tug off your boots, pausing briefly first. “Please,” he purrs, you nod once, giving him permission. Has he pulls of your boots as you unzip your suit, pulling it down your body. He pauses to toss your boots and socks to the side briefly, before returning his focus. You stand momentarily, pulling off your undershirt as he occupies himself by leisurely pulling your vault suit down, and off of you.
You look down at him, his ever present gaze still fixed onto yours. Running your fingers through his hair you tug him up, he releases a pained, yet sensual moan. Eyes glassy as he pulls himself to stand. “Let's take this to the bedroom pretty boy,” you coo, craning your neck to bring him into a short, but passionate kiss. He whines as you separate, following quickly behind you as you walk to the other room.
Once you are there, you come farther into his space, walking him towards the foot of he bed. When his legs hit it, you push him on, crawling after him. Your legs bracket his own, one hand supporting your weight near his head, the other traces its way around his center. You rub your palm over his growing bulge, pleasantly surprised by the size. “You're looking a little overdressed baby,” you say, moving your hand to his zipper, though it is caught by his.
“Wait, I want to taste you first. Please,” he expresses, hands going to your hips and squeezing the softness there. “Whatever you want,” you declare, leaning down to give him a soft kiss before moving up his body to hover above his face. “Just tap my leg three times if you need a break ok?”
“I won't need one.”
Before you can give what he said another thought you feel your underwear tear off at your hips. Norm quickly tosses the now scrap of fabric somewhere in the room. His arms swiftly wrap around your thighs, pulling you down to meet his open and waiting mouth. Surprised by his sudden actions you fall forward, one hand catching the headboard, the other, falling to his hair. The inertia of the fall forces you to tug. The sensation sparking a deep groan from him, the vibrations dancing across your core delicately.
“Fuck- you caught me off guard. You're supposed to warn a lady about these things,” you chastise half-jokingly, your hips falling into a rhythm. Norm replies with a half-hearted muffled something or other. He is clearly much more engrossed in the task at hand, and much too brainless to respond.
You feel the familiar waves of pleasure spark in your stomach, your body now becoming hypersensitive to touch. The overwhelming feeling causes your hips to buck up, only for them to be slammed back down by Norm. 
As your moans grow louder, his, seem to as well. His tongue flattens across your core, he pushes your hips forward in time with your own movements. His nose bumping into your clit, the extra sensation causing you to release another round of wetness, one that he is all-too eager to lap up. Desperate for more he moves his tongue to your entrance, you clench desperately around as it works its way inside of you. “Fuck baby- you're going to make me come,” you groan out, tugging on his hair once more. 
Something about that seemed to further motivate him. His lewd groans and whimpers only getting louder, and his actions only getting more ferocious. It's not long until your waves of pleasure finally come crashing down. They crash harder than they ever have, an unfamiliar intensity that Norm seems to sense, his moans getting to be almost as loud as yours, if not for your body muffling them. As you come back from your bliss, you lean back, looking down at him. Only then you realized what happened 
The entire lower half of his face is soaked, and the sheets behind him. “Geeze did I just-?” you gasp out, you don't remember the last time you properly squirted. “Mhm…” he affirms, kissing your thighs, and giving your core a few gentle kitten licks. “Please, can we go again? I want to make you do it again…” he whines out, now giving your thighs small nips with his teeth. “I don't know if I can, pretty boy. It was already special when you got me to the first time, another time would be even harder,” you inform, he clearly doesn't like your answer, responding with an annoyed groan. 
“Please, please let me try again. I can do it mommy! I can do it! Just one more!”
Your core involuntarily clenches at the name, his pathetic teary eyes not helping either. “Ok, one more. Be a good boy and help mommy come again.” Eyes lighting up, he smiles with satisfaction. Pulling your hips back to his mouth, he starts again, somehow more enthusiastic than before. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, the next one builds up even faster. “Mnhm- you're so good for me. Just like that.” The waves crash harder and harder than before, pushing you to the edge. Your hips buck wildly against his face, pressure building up once more. After an embarrassingly short amount of time, you come undone once more.
Your entire body tingles from the release, pleasure ebbing from every particle and atom. You soon go boneless, sliding down his body you cuddle up to his side. Grabbing his face to turn to you, Norm gives you a satisfied-looking smirk. “You proud of yourself?” you joke, leaning in to lock lips with him, tasting yourself. He deepens the kiss, turning to fully face you. He slots one of his legs between yours, giving a comfortable pressure where you need him most. His hands go to unclasp your bra. Both of you parting for barely a moment to rid you of it.
As soon as the bra hits the floor, one of his hands goes to cup your breast, squeezing softly. Parting once more, his smug look now has an extra needy layer to it. “I am very proud of myself, yes,” he answers, moving down your body now, capturing one of your nippes in his mouth. Groaning at the sensation, you place your hand back to its rightful spot in his hair. Pulling him closer, you begin to do your own groping as well. Hands tracing down his back, giving a quick squeeze to his butt before trailing back to his front.
His bulge is still going strong, pawing at it firmly, he whines pathetically, releasing from your breast with a pop. “You need me here, pretty boy?” you coo, giving his bulge a delicate squeeze. He only manages to respond with a nod and a few desperate thrusts into your hand. “Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you.” You give him a soft kiss on his lips, pushing him to be flat on his back again. 
Crawling back on top of him, you hover now at his hips, leaning forward to pull down the zipper of his suit. Now fully unzipped, you tug down the suit, revealing his body as you do. He lifts his hips up briefly to help you. Pulling it fully off, you remove his boots and socks as well. He now finds himself in only his light grey boxers. Though, you notice something, crawling up his body again you see it, a dark stain on his boxers. A new, wet stain.
 You give a light gasp, looking up at him. Already knowing what you are reacting to, his face is beet red and turned to the side. He doesn't dare to make eye contact. “Is this what I think it is?” you question, attempting to hide your arousal. “...Yes,” he shamefully admits, face somehow getting more red. “You came just from eating me out?” Not being able to bare speaking anymore he gives a sound in the affirmative. “Geez- thats so hot,” you admit. 
That certainly brings a reaction out of him. He pulls himself up on his elbows, turning his head to face you again. “Really?” he questions, clearly unsure if you were being serious. “Yes really,” you answer, rolling your eyes at his stupidity. Pulling his boxers off, you run your fingers across his skin, collecting some of his leftover spend. You put your fingers into your mouth, moaning at the slight salty taste. You watch his pupils dilate impossibly wider, his erection getting impossibly harder by the second. 
You seductively pull your fingers out, spit dripping from them as you bring them to his hardness. The slickness providing lubricant as you lazily pump a few times. You lick your lips in anticipation, looking up at his desperately flushed cheeks and sympathetic eyes. “I need you baby, You gonna let mommy ride you?” His brain seems to short circuit at your question for a moment, as if he can't believe it's actually happening.
He eventually comes to, responding to you with a nod and a whispered yes. At that you can't help but smile, grabbing his hips, you half-carry-half-push them to the headboard so that he can sit up properly. He releases a quiet whine at the show of strength, pulling you to mount his hips. 
Grasping his hardness again, you swipe the tip through your folds a few times before easily sliding him inside. The sensation causing you both to groan. It's like he was made to be inside you. Not wanting to waste any more time, you quickly start a brutal rhythm. Though, this rhythm soon becomes rather disjointed and irregular. Taking that as a sign, Norm responds by quickly snapping his own hips to match your thrusts. This slight change is very welcome, his tip now battering against that one spot inside of you, your knees going weak at the feeling.
Noticing you falter, he picks up the slack. Holding your hips still, he manages to keep the unearthly pace. Both of your pleasures growing every second. “I-I’m not going to last long,” he admits through a moan. “It's ok pretty boy, neither am I,” you respond, feeling yourself get near the precipice. “Let go for me baby, come for me.”
His body seems to take that as a command, hips stuttering as you feel his warmth seep inside of you. With a few more of his harsh thrusts you come undone alongside him, slumping forward you unintentionally shove your breasts in is face, not that he is complaining. His desperate moans and whimpers now muffled by your chest.
You stay pressed against each other for a long while, not daring to disturb the peace. After a few minutes, you peel yourself off of him, moving him to lay down against your pillows you give him a soft kiss before turning to go to the bathroom. His hand catches your wrist, forcing you to stop. Turning back to him you remove his hand, leaning in to place a delicate kiss to his chest. 
“It’s ok, I will be right back, I just need to get myself cleaned up.” Seeming to take that as a sufficient answer, he nods, allowing you to go. After going to the bathroom you clean yourself up, and grab a fresh washcloth. Wetting it you walk back to the bedroom, already hearing soft snores. Smiling quietly to yourself you clean him up, wiping all evidence of your activities away. 
Tossing the washcloth into your hamper, you climb into bed. Norm unconsciously moves to cuddle into your chest, face cradled between your breasts, one arm holding onto your plush waist. Pulling up the covers you sigh, life can not get better than this.
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demiesworld · 1 year ago
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the replacement (nsfw)
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pairings: bonten!sanzu x black!fem!reader, bonten!mikey x black!fem!reader
contents: consensual adultery, reverse cowgirl, doggystyle, oral (m receiving), size!kink, submissive reader, slight masochist (reader), sadist (sanzu), spanking, degrading, big dick!sanzu idk what else to add atp
synopsis: sanzu is given the permission by his boss to "take care" of his wife while he is busy. the first impression he gets of her is that she is annoying, however he grows to find her attractive through her femininity. of course the guys tease sanzu about his interest in the boss's wife. he could care less about it, because there's nothing better than having the boss's wife cream on you.
notes: this was requested by @lovelygeniegirl1012. reader is a black female using she/her pronouns. she is described as having dreadlocks, freckled brown skin complexion, has small breasts and big butt. any similarities of this character is a coincidence. this is written in sanzu's pov. i tried to follow the plot but as i kept writing my mind just went astray.
credits to @ mmmiaa_ as the artist of the photo
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Sanzu hasn't known the wife of his boss very long, but from what he observed of her mannerisms she appeared to be quite annoying. She was always floating around Manjiro, and calling his personal cell during the middle of crucial discussions and meetings. Sometimes asking him about what he would prefer for dinner or what piece of lingerie she should purchase. Just irrelevant things that do not pertain to their operation of business. To put it bluntly, Sanzu found the bimbo to be annoying. Her light fruity scent that lingers when she enters and exits a room. The cordial smiles she gives to Manjiro and his men.
How could she smile at all of them like that? Doesn't she know that they're all murderers, thieves, liars- they're criminals for god's sake!
A grunt left from Sanzu as he took a drag of his cigarette outside of the building he was at. Maybe Manjiro liked the innocence that his wife exuded, but still she shouldn't act like such an annoying little kid.
"Yo, Haruchiyo." The sound of Ran's voice calling out for him interrupts his thoughts.
He flinches upon hearing his first name uttered through Ran's lips. It was his actual name, but he didn't feel as if he was close enough with the elder Haitani brother for him to address him like that. This wasn't the first time he's done it either. "Damn it, Haitani I told you not to call me that!"
He flicked the cigarette away from him and stomped it out into ashes with the heel of his heavy boot. The pink-haired male combed his fingers through his tresses.
Ran smirks at the reaction he got out of him, sardonically replies, "Well sorry for that. I thought we were all friends Sanzu." Then he tucks his hands into his pockets, "Listen, Mikey says he needed to see you about something."
"What does he need to see me for?"
"I have no idea." Ran shrugs his shoulders, "Wouldn't tell me or anyone else. He just specifically requested that you come to see him."
Sanzu releases an exasperated sigh, and was already beginning to mull over the recent atrocities he had committed that didn't live up to Manjiro's expectations. He purposefully bumped shoulders with Ran as he walked past him to enter the building. Sanzu shuffled through the hallway to Manjiro's office quarters. He abruptly stopped when he could smell the familiar scent of citrus lingering from behind the door.
'Damn it all... why the hell is she here?'
He pushes open the double doors to the room and lo and behold there she was. Sano Y/N. Manjiro's wife. Honest to god, Sanzu couldn't figure out what was attractive about her. Sure she was damn pretty. With her round doe-like brown eyes, plump lips that she covers in a light lip gloss, and shoulder-length black hair styled into locs. Her petite body wasn't a miss either. She was shorter than Manjiro himself, yet she possessed an hourglass figure. Small perky breasts and wide hips and blessed with a round ass.
She was standing behind Manjiro's chair, giving him a shoulder massage. Her manicured nails caressing small tight circles onto his broad shoulders when Sanzu had entered the room. As always she gave Sanzu a kind-hearted smile and as usual Sanzu deflected it. She didn't appear to be hurt by it either. She just continued focusing on calming her husband.
Sanzu took a deep bow upon seeing Manjiro. "My king."
"Sanzu. I bet you're wondering what I called you in here for, huh?" Manjiro adjusts himself in his seat and takes his wife's hand in his own. He gently tugs her from behind the chair to bring her to stand next to his side.
The second-in-command looks up briefly to see the brown-skinned woman. Of course she's wearing a solid white camisole long dress. The fabric of it hugging her body in all of the right places and expressing her curves beautifully. If Sanzu squints his eyes just a bit he could see her nipples through the cloth. Thankfully, he doesn't. At least not in front of his boss. He stands up straight, shoulders back and chin held up high as if he wants to appear taller.
Manjiro's arm embraces his wife from the side, pulling her body against his and it elicits a delighted hum from the woman. His dark empty eyes looked up to the woman by his side. "Babe, I have to talk to Sanzu about something. Would you mind stepping out of the room for a minute, please?" Gently, his hand caressed her waist up and down.
She smiles down at her husband, the saccharine smile on her face never once faltering. How irritating to see. "Sure, I will be out in the lobby area waiting for you baby." Sanzu has to look away from the two when she leans down and kisses Manjiro on the lips.
He listens as her light footsteps walk past him, the citrus smell she carries with her following as she leaves the two inside of the office room. Finally, now it felt like he could breathe. Sanzu takes a seat in the vacant chair across from his boss, placing one leg on top of the other and grinning widely at Manjiro. The scars on the corners of his lips crinkling when he does so.
"You know my wife right Sanzu?"
Sanzu's face falls. He blinks over the words Manjiro had just uttered. "Uh, yeah? What about the woman? Did she get herself into some sort of trouble and needs help?" Like she's a fucking damsel in distress? Is what he wants to say.
Manjiro, for the first time shows an emotion, he chuckles at Sanzu's remark. "No she doesn't need any sort of protection at all. I wanted to ask what do you think of her?"
That must have been a trick question. To Sanzu she was a total nuisance. Floating around his king like she's fucking Tinkerbell and he's Peter Pan. The attachment she had to him was just not normal. At least in Sanzu's eyes. His perception of a normal marriage was distorted in a way. However, he needed not to say negative things about the boss's wife in front of the boss. Sanzu may be Manjiro's second-in-command, but he could easily be replaced if he ever fell out Manjiro's favor. And Sanzu will be damned if anyone takes his place. He knows that Kakucho has been waiting for the moment to come. For Sanzu's downfall. Fucking one-eyed bastard.
He folds his arms across his chest, "She's pleasant." Pleasantly fucking annoying.
"That's it? She's just pleasant?"
Sanzu swallows, a bead of sweat dribbling down the side of his face. "I don't know what you want for me to say about her, Mikey. She's your wife. I don't see her in that way."
"I never even said if you did, Sanzu."
Fuck. He clenches his teeth together, and tries to keep himself from looking scared. Then Manjiro lifts his hand up and waves it at Sanzu dismissively. "Whatever. If you can't be of any use then I guess I will have to ask one of the Haitanis or Kakucho. Maybe they-"
"Those fuckers won't be as good as me for whatever you need Mikey!" He exclaims, quickly standing to his feet and balling his fists together. He was trembling, fuck, he needed something to calm him down right now.
Manjiro looks at Sanzu up and down then smirks proudly at him. "Are you sure you'll be up for the task? You haven't even heard what I was going to say."
Sanzu maintained, "I don't care Mikey. Just let me do it."
"Hm... okay then." Manjiro leans above the desk and folds his arms on top of it. "I'm leaving in a few days for an issue that just came up in Yokohama. I told Y/N not to contact me while I'm gone, because I don't need any of those bastards in Yokohama finding out who she is. All the same, I'm still her husband and she will be having moments where she will be needing me. Since I can't physically be there to do it in person, we're going to need someone else to fill in my spot." Manjiro leans in his chair. "That's where you come in."
A perplexed expression shows on Sanzu's face. "Mikey... I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know as my number two you're not very perceptive with things." Manjiro lets out a sigh and he stands to his full height, hands tucked into his pockets while he walks away from the desk over to the window. He gazes through the pristine clear glass before turning his head to Sanzu and uttering the words that runs the taller male's blood cold. "I'm giving you permission to fuck my wife."
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Those words that Manjiro had said to him just a few days ago were haunting to him. He just gave Sanzu an opportunity to have sex with his wife. His wife. Sanzu knew Manjiro since they were children and he was never keen on sharing what belonged to him. The possessiveness grew as he got older and lost everyone close to him. Shinichiro, Baji, Emma, and then Izana.
Something must have changed for him to be doing this. In Sanzu's deranged mind he presumed it had to do with his new wife. Lately things were changing since Y/N and Manjiro gotten married. Not just in the syndicate, but with Manjiro's demeanor as well. He appeared to be more lenient when it came to disciplining the higher ups of Bonten. Sanzu recalls a huge fuck up that Takeomi made, one that could have resulted in Manjiro killing off his estranged older brother. Yet the total opposite happened. His boss, his king, simply ignored the mistake and just gave Takeomi a slap on the wrist. He didn't even punish him through methods of torture or personally beat him to a pulp.
Yes, it had something to do with the wife. There was just no way that his king could go from being a cold-hearted man who felt nothing to someone who would just look the other way from a huge mistake.
Speaking of the wife, Sanzu was tasked with accompanying the brown-skinned beauty to the shopping mall. A dumb task that he had to power through with a feigned smile on his face. The slender male stood awkwardly in the lingerie boutique waiting outside of the dressing room for Y/N to come out of.
He taps his foot on the ground, and impatiently looks at his wristwatch. Sanzu hisses, "She's been in there for damn near 10 minutes. Does it take that fucking long to pick just one fucking item?"
The door to the dressing room creaks open, but just enough space for someone to peer their eye into. Sanzu turns his head to the sound of the door then walks up to it. At least he was polite enough to knock on the door before he said, "Are you done in there already? I can't be dawdling around."
Y/N poked her head out and smiles at Sanzu. "I actually need your opinion for the piece I want to buy."
What the hell? Why does my opinion matter? He opens his mouth to say something, but a dainty hand pulls him into the dressing room and shuts the door behind him. Sanzu sputters, "What the f-"
"Ssh!" She shushes him with a finger pressed to his lips. "We can't get caught in here together or else they'll kick us out." The brown-skinned beauty takes a step back and it was at that moment Sanzu could finally see what she was wearing.
He sweats.
Damn it, if she looked virginal in those solid color dresses she liked to wear; then right now she looked absolutely sinful. Previous times he tried not to pay close attention to her body for the fear of being noticed by someone then called out for it. However, now they were alone, inside of a 2 by 2 dressing room, with nothing separating them. The pastel blue floral lace two piece she wore contrasted well with her skin tone. Her small breasts lifted up by the bra exposing her cleavage. The round hips of her ass swallowing the seemingly too-tight thong.
She timidly clutches her hands behind her back, causing her chest to push forward, and then lowers her gaze to Sanzu's feet. Her soft voice, her oh-so-gentle tone, asks in a tremulous way, "Do you... do you like it Haruchiyo?"
Sanzu stands there with a blank expression on his face. He doesn't know what this girl deal is with him, but he doesn't want to get into any trouble with her involved. Especially out in public. While he may be tasked with the permission of sleeping with the wife, Sanzu does have dignity and the last thing he needs is to be listened into while he's with her.
Not to mention she said his name. She didn't call him Sanzu like how Manjiro and the others would refer to him as. Sanzu and her weren't close enough to be calling one another by their first name.
He inhales sharply and takes a few steps forward. Y/N takes steps backward but is stopped when her back is pressed against the wall and she's between that and Sanzu's rigid figure. He reaches behind her the sound of rustling emanating in the room. The girl closes her eyes, expecting for him to take her there, unfortunately that never comes. Sanzu grabs her evening clothes in one hand and shoves them into her chest.
"Put your clothes on. We can't be wasting time like this."
Deep down inside, Sanzu hoped those words didn't come out as harsh. He didn't need to see the wife of his king crying because he hurt her feelings. He was the first to leave the dressing room and went out into the center of the store trying to occupy himself by feeling the fabrics of a thong set.
A soft voice clearing their throat was what he heard and he peered over his shoulder to see Y/N standing there holding apparel that she wanted to buy. Sanzu nudged his head in the direction of the registers leading her to a cashier to purchase the items. He took out the credit card Manjiro lent him to use for purposes like this.
"Would you like to sign up for our rewards program? We offer 10% to 20% off on in-store purchases only. You can use this reward today if the items are eligible." Asked the young cashier lady.
He clenched his teeth, believing that the woman must have thought that he and Y/N were a couple. Ugh. "Yes!" a chirpy voice cries out and there comes the smell of citrus again. She had moved to stand beside him no longer behind him. "We would love to sign up for the rewards program."
"We?" Sanzu blurted out.
She just smiled up at him, "Yes we, babe, don't you want to save some money?" Her round brown eyes look at the cashier. "You can enter his phone number," and she began telling the cashier (luckily) his work phone. Not his personal.
After the items were purchased with the discount of 20% on one lingerie set, the two left the mall and were inside of Sanzu's Lexus driving to Manjiro's mansion. His thoughts were wrapped around when she called him "babe" at the lingerie boutique. The word bothered him. He knew she was playing with him, but still that word was like an itch he couldn't scratch.
Damn it she was weird.
They arrived at the house, driving the car into the parking garage and then getting out of the car. Like a gentleman, Sanzu carried her bags into the spacious living area for her. "Where do you want me to put these at?" He asked her.
Y/N held out her hands, "Nowhere, I'll take them with me upstairs. You're welcome to leave now... if you want to Haruchiyo." There she goes again saying his name like that. What the fuck?
"Alright then if that's all you needed from me. I'll be heading back to the headquarters." He handed over the shopping bags to her; their hands grazing each other like so. "If you need me just call me or something."
He makes his way towards the door, reaching into the inside of his blazer for his phone. He doesn't look back when he re-enters the parking garage. Sanzu has had enough for the day. He pulls out from the parking garage driving to the Bonten headquarters in silence.
He adjusts himself in his seat the obvious erection in his pants straining.
Fuck he's gonna need a drink.
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"...So the boss has basically been having you play house with his wife or something?" Ran asked Sanzu while they were interrogating a group of narcs.
They were in an abandoned building doing their usual method of "good cop, bad cop" or in their case "good murderer, bad murderer" with some narcs they discovered infiltrating Bonten. The four hostages were seated in chairs arranged into a circle. Around their quivering bodies were rope to hold them together tight like packed sardines. Each person's eyes were covered by a blindfold so they couldn't see their captor's faces.
One of the narcs started screaming like a maniac. So pathetic. He had snot coming out of his nose, drool falling out of his mouth, and if Sanzu was right he smelt like he just defecated in his pants.
The pink-haired male cocks his gun in his hand holding it up against the screaming narc's forehead. He casually replied to Ran, "We're not playing house. I'm just watching over her while Mikey is gone."
"Yeah, but Mikey's been gone for a week now. He hasn't even told us if he's going to be back yet. Don't you think that's out of character for him? You're the one who's closest to Mikey, Sanzu."
Bang!
The gun goes off and the rest of the informants are screaming out for help or for them to stop.
"Shut the fuck up," Sanzu couldn't tell whether it was directed to the man he just killed or to Ran. Either way he needed for there to be silence. "Let's just wrap shit up here Haitani. You don't need to ask me anymore questions about Mikey or his wife."
Ran glances suspiciously at his comrade before breaking out into a wide grin. "Fine then. Let's wrap it up."
He took a step back and reaches into his pocket pulling out a box of matches. They had drenched the narcs bodies in gasoline for this exact moment. Ran takes out a stick and ignites it then tosses the match box to Sanzu. He catches it with one hand then ignites a light. Together they toss their lit sticks onto the hostages and set them ablaze. Burning alive.
They leave the abandoned building heading to the parking lot to their respective vehicles. Sanzu stretches his arms, yawning, "God one of those fuckers smelled like shit. Did you smell it?"
Ran was going to tease Sanzu by saying it was him smelling himself, but said man's phone started ringing. They both shared a confused look as Sanzu reached into the interior of his blazer for his phone. The screen showed Y/N's name dialing him. Ran, once again, looked at Sanzu suspiciously causing the man to grunt in annoyance.
He presses the end call button promptly. The phone rings again with her name calling. Sanzu just can't escape her. He rudely answers the call spitting out a frustrated, "What do you want?"
"Haruchiyo, I'm- I need your help please." Her timid voice whispers through the phone.
Sanzu furrows his brows, "What's going on? Are you okay? Do I need to bring Ran-"
She squeals and lets out a sigh, "No, no, no don't bring him or anyone please. I just need- I just need you. Please Haruchiyo will you c-come? F-For me?" Her voice sounded velvety and sweet.
Ran mouths the words, "Is she okay?" to which Sanzu ignores him and waves his hand dismissively. He responds to Y/N. "I'll be there in 30 minutes, do you think you'll be okay until I get there?"
She hums thoughtfully, and then sighs, "I-I think so... please hurry Haruchiyo. I don't think I can hold it for much longer."
The eldest Haitani attempts to listen in on the conversation but Sanzu distances himself away from the nosy bastard. He quickly ends the call with Y/N mentally reminding himself that he should apologize for the abrupt ending of the call.
Ran snorts then teases him, "So, now are you going to go tend to the boss's wife?"
"You shut the fuck up Haitani. Mind your fucking business." He gets defensive, ultimately making himself look suspicious by doing that. If Ran was acting like this just to get under his skin, well sad to say it was working, but Sanzu wasn't going to let him have the last laugh. "I'm leaving. Don't wait up for me at headquarters."
He strides away from Ran going towards his vehicle and entering inside. Sanzu doesn't take another look back at Ran in his rearview mirror as he haphazardly drives out of the parking lot and in the direction of Manjiro's mansion. He doesn't know what was Y/N's deal over the phone, but something just didn't feel right. The way she was speaking to him sounded like she was out of breath. A hunch he had was she could have been dabbling in some drugs. Which to Sanzu seemed like it was far out of her character. But then again, even the prettiest of angels have the worst of demons inside of them.
The ride there seemed to take forever with how the traffic in the city was like. Instead of being at the mansion within the 30 minutes, like he said he would, Sanzu made it there beyond that. Hopefully whatever problem she was dealing with could be easy to fix.
Sanzu opens the door to the house from inside the parking garage and he enters the house. He takes in that the lights are turned off in the kitchen, the lights are off in the living area, and the only source of glow was coming from the upstairs master bedroom. He could hear faint slow rhythmic music playing as well. The man stands at the end of the staircase; one hand holding the railing as he looks at the top.
'Let's just get this over with' he thinks before he climbs up the steps heading to what he assumed could be a trap.
And it was.
The heavenly smell of citrus and vanilla intoxicates his nose when he pushes open the double doors to his boss's and wife's bedroom. His eyes scan sight for the freckled face brown skinned beauty, but she's nowhere in sight. He could still hear the soft music playing in the background.
Sanzu closes the door behind him, sealing his fate by just doing that. "Y/N, I'm here, now where are you?" He called out.
Their bedroom suite was enormous. At the center of the room was their california king sized bed. Cream bed sheets and a thick cream comforter on top. An upholstered cream chaise beside the window that overlooked their garden. To his left there was a door that led into their bathroom, to his right were two doors. One of them Sanzu knew was their shared walk-in closet, but the other he hadn't ventured into before. Yet the door to the unfamiliar one was slightly creaked open.
Maybe she was in there.
Sanzu takes his phone out of his blazer and turns it completely off. He doesn't think he needs to be bothered while he's with her. He walks towards the door and twists the door knob pushing it open. His sky blue eyes survey his surroundings. The room had pastel pink walls lined with white crown molding and baseboards. The stone gray wooden floor was entirely covered in a white faux fur rug. At the center of the room was a round pink tufted ottoman placed below a multi-diamond cut beaded chandelier surrounded by square ceiling mirrors.
To his right, there she was. Prettily seated on a chair and applying her makeup to her already flawless face. Her dreadlocks styled into a half-up and half-down. Her brown eyes made contact with his in the mirror on her vanity. She gave him that usual kind smile then rubbed her lips together after smoothening lip gloss over them.
"I'm so glad that you made it Haruchiyo," She says as she turns in her chair. She's wearing a white silk robe covering whatever else she had on underneath.
"Yeah... why did you call me all of a sudden? You pulled me out of a job just so you're aware."
She just rubbed her arm and pursed her lips while avoiding eye contact with him. "I'm sorry if I upset you Haruchiyo, I just needed you here with me."
Sanzu grits his teeth, "You had me drive almost an hour from where I was, mind you I was busy doing something, and you're just going to sit here and say 'sorry' like I'm supposed to forgive you?"
Fuck maybe she was as stupid as she looked. Sanzu wanted to laugh in her face at the pitiful expression she made. He was not going to be remorseful over what he said to her.
He was in for a surprise when she stood up from her chair and fiddled with the strings on her robe. In a soft tone she began, "You know... Manjiro wouldn't like it whenever I would call him out of the blue and pull him out of a meeting. So, when he would come home he would punish me for it in this room because the walls are soundproof and no one would hear me scream." She unties the robe, letting slide down her petite shoulders and on the floor. She's wearing that same lingerie piece she wore at the shopping mall just days ago. The one that had Sanzu internally fighting with himself not to mount her like a dog. Y/N lifts her head to look up at him. The differences in their heights distinguishable. "I overheard your conversation with my husband about the permission he gave you and I know that you don't like me very much-"
"It's not that I don't like you. You're reading too much into it." Sanzu interrupted. Her eyes widen in surprise. "I think you're stupid. You're a nuisance to me. You're always floating around Mikey like he's a light and you're a fucking moth. You walk around smelling like fucking oranges and it's irritating. You smile at me and you keep calling me by my first name. You know I don't like that so why don't you get that?" By time he's finished his tirade his hands are balled to his fists, and it's not like he wants to hit her, no never. He just wants to get rid of this itch that she's causing.
She smiles, the woman fucking smiles like an angel at him. What the fuck? Does she not have a brain? You don't just smile at someone after they've insulted you, degraded you, and compared you to a bug!
"I think Manjiro was right... to be his number two you are certainly not very perceptive Haruchiyo." Sanzu eyes watched her with a pierced, narrowed glare. She presses her manicured fingers on his chest guiding him to the ottoman and having him sit down on it. She spreads his legs apart with little resistance and kneels in between them. "Have you figured it out yet? Why I want you here?" Her voice comes out in a sigh.
Sanzu's mind recalls the words Manjiro said, "I'm giving you permission to fuck my wife."
She chided, "He gave you permission to fuck me."
'Fuck, fuck, fuck, damn it all.' Sanzu screamed in his head, the corner of his lips twitching to a smile. "You're right. He did." He unbuckles his belt and pulls down his zipper in front of her. "You're a fucking nuisance you know that? Always running around like you're some kind of angel. I know what you really are. You're just a cock slut." He agitatedly shoves his pants to his ankles freeing his erection from its confinements. The brisk air coming in contact to his warm rigid length caused him to hiss. "Fuck! Get over here and suck me off will you?"
Like the obedient girl she was, she doesn't keep him waiting any longer. With her dainty hand she wrapped it around his shaft and scooted herself forward closer to it. A soft sigh pushes through those full lips that Sanzu was Her glossy lips parted, tongue sticking out and lapping at the head of his cock, bathing it in her spit. Sanzu groans when her warm mouth envelopes his tip before awarding it gentle suckles. The saltiness of his precum trickling onto her tongue as a consequence. Her hand twists on his cock, stroking it up and down in fluid motions.
He tilts his head back and inhales sharply through his nose when she lowers her mouth further on his cock. Her tongue flattening against the underside of him and cheeks hollowing. Damn was his king a lucky man. He had such a pretty and submissive wife. One that was eager to please whoever she was told to.
"Ahh... That's right just keep your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock... Fuck the way you're sucking me right now feels so fucking good you stupid tramp."
Her cheeks warmed when he insulted her like that and she could feel her core weeping for some attention. Y/N's vacant hand slid down to her pussy, pulling her panties to the side to expose her soaked mound. Her fingertips leisurely stroking the hood of her clit up and down, and then descended more to her entrance. Unbeknownst to Sanzu, the brown-skinned woman had prepared herself earlier for this. On the previous phone call she shared with him, she had been intentionally masturbating while pleading for him to come here. Her pussy was stuffed with a hot pink silicone dildo she was playing with earlier.
She takes a hold of the end of it pulling it half-way out then thrusting it upwards right into her cervix. Her toes curl as she lets out a squeal and bobs her head on Sanzu's cock while keeping the steady rhythm of the dildo. She presses the tip of the toy against her sweet spot once more eliciting a sound; a shaky whimper. Her juices soaking the toy and folds blossoming when she kept prodding her cervix. The lewd squelching sounds her pussy was making could be heard.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
Y/N's eyes roll into the back of her head and her knees buckle when twists the toy out just to shove it back in. Her moans are muffled by Sanzu's cock in her mouth to which she swallows him down till the head is at the back of her throat. Sanzu looked down at her with dazed eyes fixated on her lips sucking him off. He raised an eyebrow when he saw her hand moving in between her legs.
"Hey," he muttered, "What are you doing down there huh?" Sanzu sat up and pushed her head away from his cock. As much as he hated for her to stop his curiosity got the best of him. He slid off of the ottoman, pushed her down on her back and spread her legs just to see her hand covering the pink dildo she was pleasuring herself with. He grinned wickedly, "Eh what the fuck is this?" He drawls out, sounding like a drunken man. "You were playing with your pussy while you were sucking me off? You fucking slut, how long did you have this in you?"
She gasps as she slides the toy back and forth, rocking her hips when it pressed deeper inside. "S-Since before I called you... Haruchiyo..." she whines pathetically. If anything Sanzu would have thought she was ashamed for it, but he knew she wasn't.
Wait. She just said she was using that thing to fuck herself... before she begged for him to come here.
Something snapped inside of Sanzu and he couldn't describe what it was. All that he knew was he needed to see her cry. Fuck, he wanted to hear what delicious screams she could make. He needed to see fat globs of tears coming out of those pretty brown eyes and rolling down her freckled cheeks while he fucked the shit out of her. He wanted for her precious pussy to be creaming on his cock.
He barked out the command, "Get on your hands and knees and get back to sucking my dick."
She flinched at his harsh tone, though she listened and did as she was told. Good girl. Sanzu sat on his knees; his heavy cock tilting between his thighs. As soon as her mouth had his dick down her throat he hovered over her and spread her ass cheeks apart.
"Fuck," he snarls, "Look at this ass." He slaps her round ass, his eyes marveling at how it recoiled. She moaned from the contact and jutted her ass out, wordlessly encouraging him to do it again. Sanzu did smacked it again, and then roughly grabbed both palms full of it, spreading her globes apart. He spat a glob of spit on to her puckered hole and stared in awe as it dribbled from that to her stuffed pussy. "Fuck. Fuck I can't wait to destroy your pussy and ass. Move your hand off that toy. I wanna play with you."
Y/N hesitantly moved her hand away from it. She knew that if she didn't obey Sanzu's demands he could really put her through hell. But that's the thing. She wanted to be put through it. She needed to feel that cruelty that she knew only Sanzu could offer. Yes when she has sex with her husband, Manjiro, that he would be rough with her. Although Manjiro's ways were always predictable. He fucked like a rehearsed script. On the other hand with Sanzu, a man who she didn't know how he performed sexually, it was unpredictable.
And she liked it.
She tried focused her attention on servicing Sanzu's slick coated dick with her mouth. Flicking her tongue at the head of his bulbous cock, prodding the tip of her wet appendage onto it, and then slurping him back into her mouth. However, her concentration broke when the male took out the dildo fully. For the first time that evening she was empty. Nothing was keeping her full and she began to wail.
Her mouth pulls away from his dick, and she gasps, "H-Haruchiyo, please p-put it back, put it back in! I need to feel something! Ah!" She yelps at the end of her begging when he smacks her on the ass cheek; putting a silence to that.
"You shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear your mouth saying a word unless it's telling me how good I'm fucking you. You hear me?" His crystal blue eyes glared down at her expecting for her to respond. When she just stared at him dazedly, the male slaps her ass cheek again bringing her to squeal. "I said do you hear me?"
The petite brown-skinned girl hastily nodded her head and took a hold of his cock muffling her cries with it. She shut her eyes when she felt the tip of the toy gliding across her folds. Then it rubbed on her clit in circular motions. After that the tip was inserted into her pussy and her walls clenched around it. Y/N lurched forward and lowered her head on his dick when Sanzu pushed the toy deep inside till it touched her cervix.
Sanzu laughs maniacally when the girl cried around his cock, and her hands gripped his thighs tightly. He slid the toy out then heartlessly pushed it back in. "That's it, that's right, keep sucking my dick you slut. Suck it while I fuck you with this dildo." He spits on her mound and listens to the wet sounds her pussy was making. "Damn do you hear that? Your pussy is fucking crying right now. She's begging for a cock to get in her ain't she?"
She gargled an incoherent reply to his question. She should feel embarrassed to be insulted like this. The way Sanzu was treating her like she was nothing. It made her even more excited for what was to come later.
"Hm! Mmmh! Hm!" She moans each time he thrusted the toy back and forth from her core. Her toes curled and she dug her nails into his thighs. Y/N relaxed her jaw around his dick and whines when she feels her walls clenching. She was getting close.
Sanzu notices her getting lazy and he pulls the toy out with a lewd "squelch" his narrowed eyes examining the dildo that was covered in her slick. He whispered, "Fuck would you look at that? Just covered in it. I knew you were going to cum too."
She felt robbed. She felt defeated. She felt delighted. Manjiro wouldn't deprive her of an orgasm, but Sanzu did, and that's is what makes this fun. Her dreadlocks are tugged on to force her head up from his dick and look up at him. She panted sticking out her tongue and her doe-like eyes unfocused. "Haruchiyo, please can you fuck me now? I've been a good girl haven't I?" She kisses the side of his cock and drags her tongue along the veins. "I've been, such, a good girl." She was kissing it in between her slurred words.
He scowled at her, nostrils flaring, and disagreed, "No you haven't. Bad girls don't get rewarded for being stupid bimbos like you."
"But I will be a good girl for you Haru. I promise," she whines, her hands pawing at his shirt and she sits upright on her knees. "I promise," her lips kiss on his jawline, her tongue sticking out to taste the light salty sweat on his pale skin.
Sanzu had an idea that came into his mind. He spat, "Fine! Only because I don't want to give myself blue balls." He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off discarding it to the side. He pushes the ottoman out of the center of the way and grabs Y/N by her waist pulling her forward to him. He positions her body to where she's got her back facing him and he's laying down on the white faux fur rug. "You want my dick inside of you so badly? Put it in yourself, I'm not going to fuck you like how you want me to."
He knew what would happen if she were to ride him like this. Without his support she would tire herself out easily and would be begging for him to fuck her. He couldn't help but smirk when she didn't seem to think over what would happen, instead she grabbed the base of his cock and slid her pussy down on him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was so damn tight. Her pussy sounded lose from the dildo she was using, but with all that preparation, it didn't matter. Because she was gripping him like she was afraid to let him go. Sanzu releases a throaty groan when he's buried completely inside of her. His cock was definitely poking through her cervix and if she started moving-
"Shit!" He cried out when she lifted her hips and slammed herself down on him. His hands flew to her small waist squeezing it tightly to prevent himself from fucking up into her. "Ah fuck! Fuck!"
She rocked her hips side to side and lets out a soft coo, "Ah Haru~ Let me show you that I can be a good girl." She places her hands on the floor in front of her using that as leverage to fuck herself on his length.
Sanzu groans at the way his cock was appearing and disappearing into her heat. The way her folds fluttered around his cock sent a chill down his spine. Damn. Her pussy was coating his dick in her cream by the time she was speeding up and getting wild with it. The sounds of their skin slapping echoed within the four walls of the room.
"The way your cock feels inside of me Haru.. oh my god! I think I'm gonna cum! Your dick it's so big!"
His head tilts back when she slows down, eyes almost closing and he gets to feel her mushy walls stroking him. "F-Fuuuck..." he croaks out, jaw going slack. He could feel his face warming up. The blue-eyed man rubs his hands up and down on her waist. "You fucking like that huh? You like riding dick don't you?"
She nods her head earnestly, "Mhm! I like riding fat c-cocks like yours! Oh f-fuck!"
He sits up from the floor, his chest pressing against her back and he whispers into her ear. "You like riding cock you little cock slut? Look at you fucking yourself on my dick right now.. fuck... using me like I'm a damn toy." His hand slithers to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles.
A loud penetrating squeal left her lips when he played with it. She felt her body tense and an intense feeling crash through her body. The brown skinned girl's petite figure froze while impaled on Sanzu's dick for her to squirt out onto his hand. "Haru! Haru! Aah!"
Sanzu cackles when he feels her essence shower his thighs and most importantly his cock. He continues to rub on her clit stimulating her sensitive bud to encourage her to cum for him again. "We're not done yet slut, I still didn't get to cum." She then feels a hard slap on her ass cheek and the man growling, "Get back to riding my dick."
"Y-Yes Haru!" She gasped, before sliding Sanzu's cock out of her pussy then penetrating herself again with it. The brown-skinned girl arches her back and lets out a loud moan, "Fuck! I wanna ride your cock all day H-Haru! Oh my god!" She repeats the motions, whimpering when his tip abuses her cervix mercilessly. Her ass cheeks clapping on his thighs and recoiling like jello. She whines, "Feels so fucking good! Haruuuu~ ..So good! O-oh! Fuck!"
The ivory-skinned male took one glance at his dick and saw that a thick white ring had coated the base of it. The lewd sight of it in addition to the wet noises her pussy was making almost brought him to an orgasm. Had he not willed himself to hold back from doing it.
He starts to move his hips up when she lowers herself down on his dick. The combined motions from his strokes and her sinking down was damn near summoning another orgasm out of her. She was becoming overly stimulated with it. Her mind was turning into mush, her head becoming dizzy just from fucking herself on Sanzu's cock. The brown-skinned girl's thighs were gradually getting sore.
Just as Sanzu had predicted she was getting tired. Her pace slowing down and pussy clenching tight on his shaft. She stops altogether then laments to him about it, "Haru~ I can't go on. Pl-please fuck me, please!"
"Why the fuck not? What? Is your legs tired or something?" She nodded her head and hummed in agreement to him. Sanzu lets out a snort before he murmurs, "Lazy bitch," He pushes her off of his cock then grabs her by her wrists and bends her over the vanity mirror. He swats off the makeup she had been using onto the floor as he stands behind her. "All of that talk saying that you would be a good girl, begging me to stick my dick inside of you, and now you're giving up because you can't handle it?" Sanzu holds the base of his dick while sliding right back inside of her heat sheathing his dick in fully. He pulls her head by her hair, forcing her to look into the mirror with her brown eyes dazed. "Look at me while I fuck you."
He started pounding his hips forward into her pussy causing her to scream from how ruthless he fucked. She scrambles her hands onto the vanity mirror's surface, holding onto the sides of the mirror itself to steady her on her feet. She drips more of her cream on his shaft and to the floor in between her spread legs. Her eyes squeezed shut and it resulted in a hard spank on the ass from Sanzu.
"Don't close your fucking eyes, open them," when she didn't listen, Sanzu roughly snatches her chin and leans down to her face. He growls, "I said fucking open them." The wife of the boss sobs pathetically but opens her eyes and watches the right-hand man to her husband fuck into her pussy in the mirror. "That's right, fuck, take my fucking dick. Watch me ruin this fucking pussy, you dumb slut."
She had tears running down her pretty face and black wet trails of mascara underneath her eyes. Her lip gloss was no longer glossy because it had been rubbed off. She looked to be a disheveled mess. The wife purrs, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she thrusts her pussy back to his cock, her eyes rolling to the back of head. "...wanna be a good girl, 'm a good girl,"
Sanzu places both of his hands on either of her shoulders and jackhammered right into her sweet spot. He groans when he feels her tighten around his cock again then without warning squirts on his pelvis. He jerks by the abrupt force, and exclaims, "Oh fuck! Fuck, you just creamed on my dick again!"
She collapses on the surface of the vanity, her body going limp as Sanzu was assaulting her pussy to his liking. His breathing was becoming labored and erratic along with his thrusts turning into sloppy strokes. He had been holding onto his orgasm for a time since he was focused on turning his boss's beautiful wife into a dumbed out cock sleeve. It was successful since now the woman wasn't even speaking.
"'M gonna cum, gonna cum right into your pussy, shit," He tells her in a raspy voice.
His hips stop moving and remain still against the curve of her round ass. He lets out a low guttural sound when he spurts out his cum deep within the walls of her pussy. Sanzu rocks his hips back and forth to ensure that she's full to the brim with his cum. Then pulls his dick out once it softens. "Damn," he pants right after he witnesses a glob of his semen and her juices stream out from her puffy, wilting folds and on the carpeted floor. His thumb spreads her fold to the side, allowing for more of their mixture to fall out of her pussy.
Sanzu grins as he felt like a winner for turning the obedient, seemingly virtuous wife of his boss to a wearied out slut. His dark eyes admire the limp body in front of him. Then an idea pops into his deranged mind.
He turns to his discarded blazer and pulls out his phone. Without asking for her consent, not that he needed to anyways, Sanzu took a photo of Y/N from behind. The camera's lens zoomed in particularly on her ravaged cunt.
He assumed that by the time Manjiro returns that this thing between him and Y/N would be over. After all his king had said that he only gave him permission to fuck his wife while he was out of commission and he fulfilled his part. So why not have a picture of her fucked out petite body as a souvenir?
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notes: so sorry that this took me a while to finish. i have been quite busy and distracted i will admit. my original plot was to have the reader basically say mikey's name while sanzu was fucking the everlasting shit out of her, but then i re-thought about it and got rid of that idea. i just hope i kept to the script that was in my head. anyways, im happy to finally have this one out of my drafts. remember to leave a comment telling me what you think!
© 2023 demiesworld
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pastelwitchling · 3 years ago
Text
Kyle talks to Michael about Alex.
Kyle had had a strange pain in his chest since he’d accepted the surgeon’s offer, but as he stepped into the Wild Pony and saw Alex at their usual table, looking everywhere at once and tapping his fingers on his beer bottle, clearly uncomfortable with being alone, it was like a window suddenly opened to his heart.
A smile tugged at his lips. Alex saw him and smiled himself, raising a hand in greeting.
As Kyle slid into the booth, he said, “I have a raging headache in four corners of my mind, and only one of them is from my hospital shifts.”
Alex huffed a chuckle. “I get the feeling.”
“Right,” he nodded. “I keep forgetting that you’re in the club, too.”
“The club?”
“The We’re-Pretty-Much-On-Call-All-The-Time-Because-Someone-Always-Needs-Something Club.”
“Ah,” Alex leaned back in his seat, and handed Kyle the second bottle he’d ordered. “That club. It’s not so bad, being useful.”
He raised a brow. “That bad? I thought you liked your new job.”
“‘Liked’ may be a strong a word,” he confessed. “It’s definitely interesting.”
“And your boss?”
He sighed. “I’m still trying to crack him. What about you? Have you heard back from that hospital in California?”
Kyle looked down, and huffed a chuckle. “I think you’re the only one that’s asked me that. Come to think of it, I think you’re the only friend I have that doesn’t just call me for rescue.”
Alex’s smile dimmed. “So you have heard from them.”
He nodded. “And I accepted their offer.”
Alex said nothing, and Kyle looked up, expecting disappointment. But Alex wasn’t looking at him. He was staring off into the crowd of cowboys drinking by the pool table, his lips pursed, his brows furrowed.
“Do you hate me?”
“I’m sad,” he confessed, the corner of his lips tugged up in a soft smile. “I’ll miss you.”
Kyle felt a lump in his throat. For two days, he’d been deliberating his choices, wondering if it was the right thing to do. Everyone here, after all, needed him for one thing or another. He was worried he’d be letting people down. But Alex . . .
“Are you disappointed?”
He shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he hesitated, “I’m the resident alien doctor. What’re are they going to do if I’m not here?”
Alex raised a brow like it was obvious. “Manage.”
“Come on, Alex,” his shoulders fell. “You can’t fool me into thinking that you don’t care what happens to Michael.”
“All I’ve ever cared about is Michael,” he said simply, without doubt or pause. “But they’re not alone. I’m here, Liz is here. And you’ve done enough.”
“But you’ve always advocated for – for friendship, and being there for the people you love!”
“And you have been,” Alex chuckled. “And you will be. You’re moving to another state, not another planet. If it gets really bad, and I really can’t think of anything else, I’ve got your number.”
Kyle clenched his jaw. “But –”
“Kyle,” he leaned in, smiling. His eyes were glassy. “Take it from someone who built a career out of the military, and moved on. It’s time to tap out.”
Kyle didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have another argument, not with Alex’s eyes and words so sincere. Alex shrugged. “It’ll just be Roswell’s loss.”
He stared, searching for any sign of mockery or sugarcoating. But this was Alex. He didn’t lie, not for anyone.
He opened his mouth to speak, found the words lodged in his throat, then tried again. He really hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed Alex’s permission.
“Coming from you, Manes,” he confessed, “that means everything.”
 On his way home that night, and after a hug from Alex and a promise that he would come over the next day to help him start packing, Kyle realized there was one more thing he couldn’t leave without doing. One last duty that he owed his best friend.
So instead of going straight home, he turned a road and into the junkyard. Michael Guerin sat in front of the bonfire with a beer in hand, that stupid hat on his head, and raised a disinterested brow at Kyle as he stepped out.
“Well,” he said, “this is a surprise. The good doctor needs something from little old me?”
“Actually,” Kyle said, “yeah, I do.” Michael just stared, and he shrugged. “More of an order, actually.”
Michael started to smirk and leaned forward on his knees. “You’re gonna give me orders.”
“Just one,” Kyle said, hands in his pockets. He supposed he should’ve been more hesitant, more afraid. Michael, after all, was a dangerous loose wire even when he was sober, and he’d been on edge for whatever reason for the past few days.
But then Kyle remembered the dark circles around Alex’s eyes, the slight twitch of his fingers, the way he seemed to be struggling with the weight of Deep Sky and everything that came with it on his shoulders. And Michael. Always Michael.
“I need you to look after Alex.”
Michael’s smirk faltered. “Pardon me?”
“You heard me, Guerin,” he sighed, not in the mood to play back-and-forth. Not anymore. “Look after Alex. He’s not okay.”
That got Michael’s attention, and his eye twitched. “What’s wrong with him?”
Kyle tilted his head. “Oh I don’t know, why don’t you ask him? Or is it only that Alex is allowed to help you, and never the other way around?”
He stood. “Watch it, Valenti.”
“I have been,” he said. “For the past couple of years, I have been careful around you, Guerin, because part of me knew that whatever you broke in Alex, I can just fix. But I’m leaving town, and honestly? I’m scared for him. He’d never ask for help, but there has to be someone who cares enough about him to offer it anyway.”
Michael clenched his jaw and swallowed. “And you think that’s me?”
“I need it to be,” Kyle admitted, “because Alex doesn’t want anyone else.” Michael’s face fell. “He’s never wanted anyone else. So it’s either you, or I find some way to take him with me.”
Michael’s eyes flared, but Kyle held up a hand to silence him. “I’m not, Guerin, but I would. I can’t leave him here alone knowing he’s just going to keep being used.”
“I don’t use Alex,” he growled.
“No?” Kyle scoffed. “Did you know that he left the Air Force just last week?”
Michael looked like he’d been shot.
“With full honors?” he went on. “Did you know that he’s been recruited by the same secret organization that shot Max and drugged Jenna? Or that he’s already been given a mission? Do you have any idea how exhausted he is?”
When Michael didn’t answer, apparently too consumed with taking in all of this information, Kyle shook his head.
“You wouldn’t, would you? Because it’s all about you, all the time.” He shrugged. “Alex doesn’t mind, so why should you?” He shook his head, already starting to walk back to his car. “He deserves better than that.”
Leaving Michael standing in the desert, Kyle got into his car and drove away, finally feeling like he’d wiped the slate clean with his best friend.
*
Michael didn’t know why he was here. He walked the length of Alex’s porch, waiting for Alex, not having a clue as to where he could be. He realized there’d been a lot of that since that year away dismantling Project Shepherd. He had less and less to do with Alex, and it gave him a headache beyond anything else had.
How could he not know where Alex was? How could he not have asked? How did Kyle know?
Because Kyle pays attention to Alex, a voice in his head scorned. You don’t.
Michael clenched his jaw, still a little tipsy from his self-loathing beers, and ran his fists through his curls. Alex’s porch started to upend itself, the hardwood floors battling against the nails keeping them down, and Michael gasped, settling everything back in its place.
Just then, Michael caught a pair of headlights and squinted only for a second before Alex parked and turned off the car.
His heart started to rattle and his breaths came out quicker at the sight of Alex in his flannel and jeans. He missed him. He had no idea how badly he had until he’d come back, until he got to talk to him that first night a few days ago – drunk then, too – but he missed him. He missed him every second he was away, and somehow missed him more when he was here.
Alex had a brow raised, but Michael was studying his face. He saw it clearly now. The dark shadows under his eyes, his hollow cheeks, his hair sticking up in perfect, messy strands like he’d been running his hands through them all day, his stubble. How could he have not noticed?
“Uh oh,” Alex sighed at the look on his face. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
Michael swallowed. Right, he thought. Because Alex only thought he showed up when he needed something.
He pushed past the ever-present lump in his throat and asked, “Why would something be wrong, Private?” He purposely used the nickname. “Can’t I just come say hi?”
Alex glanced down at the word Private, and back up again. He smiled and moved past Michael to open his door. “Not in my experience. Seriously” – he stood by the door, and nudged Michael inside – “what’s wrong?”
Michael didn’t budge, still smirking though it felt hollow. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Air Force?”
Alex looked startled that Michael knew. Did he really just never expect Michael to care about what was going on with him at all?
He shrugged. “It – uh – it was recent. Who told you? Max?”
Michael stared, then started to chuckle incredulously. “Did everyone but me know?”
Alex was not humoring him. “I told Greg and Kyle. They’ve both been spending time with Maria, and she’s been spending time with Max, I figured one of them must’ve mentioned it to her, and she must’ve mentioned it to him – look, would you please just come inside?”
Michael’s laughter faded and he pressed his lips together. He was still smiling, but his eyes burned. Alex seemed to realize he wouldn’t move on his own, and he gently took Michael’s jacket sleeve, tugging him in.
Once they were both in the living room, Alex set to work on a pot of tea. As he handed Michael a mug, Michael saw the light glimmering off a silver ring on his finger. His brows furrowed.
“That’s new.”
“Oh,” Alex glanced at it. “Yeah. So –”
“Wasn’t that the same ring Long had?”
“Yep.”
Alex was clearly avoiding his eyes. Michael was relentless, a burning in his chest forcing the words out.
“He gave it to you?”
“No,” Alex said. “This one’s mine.”
“Is this about that secret organization you joined?” Michael demanded. “Or was that recent, too?”
Alex smiled as he straightened, understanding dawning. “So Kyle told you. No wonder you’re wound so tight.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it’s one thing when my own brother knows a secret about me before you do,” Alex said, taking a seat at the end of the couch. “But Kyle knowing it first?” He scoffed and shook his head.
Michael leaned forward, glaring. “So I’m jealous,” he spat. “So what? Why does Kyle get to know more about you than I do?”
“He’s my best friend,” Alex said simply. “We just talk about ourselves around each other.”
“But you don’t talk about yourself to me.”
“Not usually,” Alex agreed.
“Why?” he demanded. “I’m more important?”
“Yes,” he said simply, and Michael clenched his jaw.
“That’s really what you think of me?”
“I think the world of you, Michael,” he said, and Michael faltered. “You’re everything to me.” He smiled. “You think I don’t tell you about what I’m doing because I don’t think you care? I don’t tell you because you’re all I care about. I was going to tell you about the Air Force, I swear, just . . . not yet.” He looked down at his hands, his thumb rubbing the backs of his fingers. “Some of this stuff hurts to talk about, and I just don’t . . . I don’t want to think about it yet.”
Michael’s brows furrowed. “You’re . . . sad about leaving the military?”
He scoffed halfheartedly, slumping against the couch. “My whole life was the military. I had a family. Now I . . . don’t. I just need a minute to adapt.”
Michael tried to consider that, to be sympathetic, but he couldn’t be. For one obvious reason.
“But I’m your family.”
Alex huffed a laugh, and sniffled. He nodded. “I know.” He exhaled shakily, glancing at Michael, then stretched his arms high above his head. Michael was so distracted with his shirt riding up and revealing smooth, delicious skin that he didn’t notice Alex was lying down until his head was on his lap.
Michael froze, not knowing what to do.
“Hold still,” Alex murmured, his eyes already closed. “I haven’t slept in days and I’m exhausted.”
Slowly, Michael set a hand down on Alex’s waist, the other in his hair. His own heart hammered when Alex’s body melted under his touch and he seemed, for the first time since he’d seen him back, relaxed.
He leaned back on the couch, unable and unwilling to look away from Alex. “Then sleep, Private,” he whispered. “I’ll keep you safe.”
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deliciousangelfestival · 4 years ago
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Wicked Romance
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Chapter 1
Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 
Warning: Maybe bad writing? Hehehe forgive me. This is my first time write and posting my own fan fiction on tumblr.
############
If an outsider sees Steve, he got everything: looks, money, status. But for him, he lacks one thing; the right person to stand beside him.  
But let’s talk about how Steve became the new mob leader.
Steve got raised by his mother Sarah Rogers, it was until he retired from the military he reconnected with his father again. 
He thought his father, Joseph Rogers owns a security firm every time he visits him when he was a kid after his parents divorced. Until he reaches a certain age he realized his father actually is a mob boss. He found his childhood friend Bucky, they went to the army together, also working with his father after he got into an accident that cost his left arm. 
He owes it to his father, but Joseph doesn’t need his son to pay his debt. He only wanted his son to stay with him. Joseph has everything, but he missing two things; his lovely wife and his son. 
Joseph loves Sarah, but he forgot she doesn’t come from a mobster background. When they got married, she was overwhelmed. Looking at her husband coming home with blood on his hands or they need to stay at the safe house when she was 8 months pregnant and when Steve was baby the rival gang tried to hurt her and their son. 
Sarah admitted to Joseph that she couldn’t live like this. In the end, she asks to separated but they never divorced. Joseph never sends the document to the court. 
When Joseph retired, he decided to be honest. He went to chase his wife again. With a lot of effort the couple reunited again.
Their love story was so sweet that could make Steve’s teeth hurt. Joseph appointed Steve as the new leader while he enjoys his second honeymoon with his wife. 
It’s been 5 years since Steve became the new mob boss, now he’s waiting for the one that could help him write a sweet story like his parents. 
## 
Right now around lunchtime at the fancy that owned by Rogers. Steve and others like Bucky and Sam are sitting at the bar. While Pietro is the bartender serving their drinks. 
It's a usual day for them but it's a little bit different with Steve this time.
Steve head not looking at his food because notices someone seating near the window. She wearing a dress, not too sexy but he could see her legs. She is completely different from a woman who dressed less to get his attention. The reason is simple Steve is an attractive man, tall, broad shoulder, the expensive three-piece suit that wraps his muscles. He only sits for 3 minutes, few girls try to seduce him but he politely or in a sarcastic way to shoo them. 
And the girl who he watched for a while won’t budge to turned around. It poked his ego a little bit. He quite used to with the flirt and attention. 
“You still staring at her.”
Bucky’s words made Steve snap up from his trance. 
Steve shook his head, he couldn’t help it because he wants to see the woman face who sitting alone. 
“Pfft.”
Someone who holds his laughter. Three of them turn their gaze towards the bartender served their drink. 
“Something funny Pietro?” Steve raised his eyebrows. 
“I’m just surprised my boss lose his game before approaching Miss Lilly.”
Steve tilts his head “You knew her name?”
Pietro nodded while whipping the glass with cloth “Yup, the gorgeous lady that always left a big tip.” 
“She has become a regular?” Sam asks surprised. 
“Perhaps, it’s difficult to forget her since the first time she came here.” Pietro is a sucker for a beautiful woman. 
He put the clean glass on the shelf “The day she came here also the first day Peter Peter start his job.”
The alpha male grunted when Parker’s name mentioned. That kid is troublesome. He always late for his job and clumsy, but he’s the best chef assistant according to Wanda who the head chef at the restaurant. 
“So she’s been our customer for 5 months. How come we never notice her?” Sam whispered asking. They always come here every day for lunch and dinner. 
Pietro raised his shoulder “Usually she only stays for 10 minutes after buying one drink. Then she left. This is the first time she asks for a table.” 
After hearing the info from Pietro, Steve looking at her back once again. 
“Steve, if you don’t talk to her I will,” Sam said while moving from his seat. 
Steve stop Sam by grabbing his shoulder “I didn’t say I don’t want to.”
“Go get her punk.” Bucky raised his fist.
Steve nodded, he walks closer towards her table, he doesn’t understand why his heart beating so fast. 
He already in his game, using his usual pick-up line and smile, but before his foot stops at her table, she turns her head towards him. 
It felt like a slow-motion when he saw her looking at him. 
The first moment he looked at her eyes, somehow the time stop and world in only both of them. 
She looks at him with a friendly smile. ‘Her eyes,’ he couldn’t look away. 
“Hi…” He couldn’t believe he almost squeaked his voice. Steve could feel his face turn red like tomatoes. How he wishes, the situation could change.
‘BANG’
The loud sound came from the gun sound. The door abruptly opened by a bunch of guys who wear suits, some of them holding guns, and baseball bat, and the one who leads them is Brock Rumlow. 
Steve cursed, because of the annoying newcomer, he already lost the moment with her. But partly he blamed himself, earlier he wished to change the situation. Be careful what you wished for.
It must be his rival gang who crash his business again. This is the third time in one month. Since Brock became the new head after Pierce died. 
“Damn it.” He saw Bucky and Sam already start kicking and punching. 
He turned at her, he looks at her with puppy eyes “Forgive me for today’s distraction. You don’t have to pay. It’s free.”
Before she could reply, one guy holding a baseball bat, and swing at Steve but he able to stop it. 
“Everyone leave this place !!!” He screamed his lungs out to alarm the guest who still shocked. All of them ran to save their lives. 
Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro busy fighting their rival. 
No wonder why he had bad feelings, today seems nothing could go wrong. He knew something bad will happen. Turn out it’s Rumlow. 
“What do you want Rumlow?” Steve hissed at the uninvited guest.
Brock shrugged his shoulder “Oh nothing, I just want to say hi to my rival, since I became the boss now.”
‘Because of that reason?’ Steve inwardly thought. But he knew why Rumlow did this, he want everyone to know his name since he recently got this position. And this bastard choose his place at the wrong time and the wrong place.
Both of them punches at each other and destroyed the furniture.
Brock always sneaky, he prepares a hidden knife under his sleeves aka phantom blade. 
He succeeded stab Steve’s shoulder. 
“Urgh.” But because of his muscles, it didn’t go that deep. 
Brock brings Steve to his shoulder and throws him to the ground. 
Steve landed on the ground while Brock put on a mocking smile looking down at him. 
“Boys~”
The seductive voice made both of them turn to see who it was. 
Steve widened his eyes when he saw the girl who took his breath away standing in front of them. 
When she stood, he could see she’s wearing a skirt that has a high cut on her left thigh. Steve and Brock were taken aback because under the fabric there’s a belt dagger. 
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She slightly pouted which made Steve thought for a second she looks adorable. But what the hell is she doing here when he already told everyone to leave this place.
She put her right hand on her left chest “It breaks my heart seeing my favorite restaurant destroyed like this.”
Steve somehow felt happy when he knew she like his work.
She grabs the dagger and throws it to Steve. 
“I’m lending it to you.” She winked at him, and turn around to grab her coat. She headed to the exit door, easily avoided the fight.
“That’s one hot lady right there.” 
“Yeah, she is.”  Steve took the chance to give a butthead towards Brock. He doesn’t want this jerk to look at his ‘future date’. 
Brock screamed while holding his broken nose “That’s was low, I was distracted.”
“Let’s get this over with. I can’t do this all day.” Steve finally let out his rage towards Rumlow. 
####
Their fight is done with the result Steve side who won. 
“I’ll get you next time,” Brock screamed angrily, his fingers broken by Steve. He got carried by the paramedic. 
Steve wiped his bloody nose with a cloth while Bruce pressing his shoulder “Yeah yeah, just not in this place again.” He answered lazily. 
He sighed because he’s getting tired of Rumlow childish fight. After his wound got treated by Bruce, Steve went back into the restaurant. 
What he saw is a broken window, table, the custom leather chair that imported from Italy also ruined. There will be one person who will be crazy over this, Natasha who also his accountant, and Bucky’s wife. 
His shoes step on the broken glass, his eyes locking to the table where she sat. 
When he arrived he saw the book she read. Steve notice there is a bookmark inside of it. He doesn’t want to touch her touch without permission but he eager wants to see what inside. 
Steve put his hand on his mouth and gasped “Oh f**k!”
“Language you punk!” Bucky and Sam appear from behind. Their face and hands also bruised because of the short fight. 
“What’s wrong?”
They got no answer from Steve. He look like a statue still looking at his hands.
Bucky and Sam glanced at the bookmark on Steve’s hand. Both of them smirked.
’When the restaurant re-open, text me: (646)-xxxxxxxx’
Steve’s mind went back to the first time he saw her face and that beautiful smile, then the way she’s not afraid of the craziness that happens today, and she lent him a dagger so he can win. 
He didn’t think it wasn’t a thing, but it happened to him. 
He fell in love at the first sight. 
“We totally lose him.” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s eyes. 
They could see Steve on cloud nine right now. 
“Good for him, maybe he could move on this time,” Bucky murmured. 
Sam pointed one critical point “But first of all, we need to tell your wife about today.” 
Bucky sighed “That’s the difficult part.” 
While his friends busy thinking about how to coaxing Natasha so she won’t stun them with the lecture that could last for the whole day and make their ear hurts, Steve is planning how to renovate the restaurant fast so he could text her.
>>>CHAPTER 2
Taglist:
@cloudystevie​
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softlyjiminie · 5 years ago
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oh kitten! | p.j.m
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⇢ pairing(s): park jimin x cat hybrid!reader, mentions of panther hybrid!jeon jungkook x cat hybrid!reader.
⇢ word count: 2.4K
⇢ genre: smut, fluff, hybrid!au.
⇢ summary: no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. innocent as can be, sweeter than sugar, she was the apple of jimin’s eye, but little did they know, how good she could be.
⇢ warning(s): please read! heavy smut, pwp, dom!jiimin, sub!reader, oral sex (female receiving.), fingering, male masturbation, light exhibitionism,  master kink, corruption kink, degredation kink, god kink if you squint,  mentions of pet play, light choking, spanking, cum play, breeding kink, unprotected sex - please wear protection!
⇢ author’s note(s): happy new year friends! it is i, your favourite jimin luvr back with a very special gift for miss @fantasybangtan​, gia hit me with this very wonderful and steamy gift, so in my new years haze I managed to throw this little steamy one-shot together! please enjoy this very smutty fic hehe.
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no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. jimin already had plenty of girls wrapped around his finger before her, so why did he need a hybrid? the short answer was that he was lonely, looking for someone to take care of and fill the empty space between work, college and parties. but jimin had seen the look of happiness on yoongi’s face that one time,upon seeing his girlfriend  bring in their excitable german shepard hybrid; taehyung  (of course with the permission of their boss seokjin, some establishments didn’t allow hybrids on the premises.)
namjoon, his old roommate had moved out after getting his own cat hybrid, jungkook. the panther hybrid had many lazy tendencies, sometimes aggressive and possessive which had ultimately led namjoon to leave. in other words, jungkook was lazy and mean as fuck. however, he did have his adorable moments. then there was, hoseok who frequently volunteered in a shelter for hybrids. it had been him, the jubilant man,  who helped jimin to find the right hybrid for his home, but the older male would have never suspected his blue haired ‘bad boy’ friend to go for the most innocent little short hair he’d ever seen. 
oh kitty, if hoseok knew how innocent and good she really was. 
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YN’s back was arched, dark fluffy tail wrapped around her thigh as she held her ass up high for jimin to see. with dark eyes, jimin nudged her thighs apart with his own, just so he could get a view of her pretty, creamy little pussy. her ears were flat with submission too, making heat crawl down his spine. “look at you kitten,” jimin cooed lowly, crescent moon eyes heavy with seduction. “all spread out for me, like a good little girl.” 
he hummed in satisfaction, watching her tail twitch and ears flicker to place his movement. YN knew he was right behind her, her modified hybrid DNA meant her keen sense of smell could detect his growing arousal and the denim that prevented it from filling her up. she let out a quiet mix between a whimper and a purr, burying her face into the fresh cotton sheets as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to get jimin’s attention. 
hands on her waist stilled the motion, causing YN to glance back over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. jimin smirked, shuffling down the bed with her ass still firmly in grip. the tattooed man yanked at her hips with bruising force,  bringing her sopping heat closer to his face once his knees hit the floor. nose just inches away from her swollen nub, jimin’s  hot breath fanned over YN’s throbbing core and sent her senses into overdrive. “tell me kitten, what was it that you did so wrong? tell master so he can give you what you need baby.”
his voice dripped with mockery, testing all of her self control. jimin had her trained well, to be a good pet, not only when but if he desired it. he loved to see YN on her knees when he came home from a busy day, mouth open and ready to take his fingers spiralled with tattoos. he loved it. she adored it.
“i t-touched myself,” she mewled after jimin pressed his plush lips against her core in a sloppy kiss. he hummed, as if asking her to continue, causing her fingers to grip the sheets. “because the heat, m-my heat was too much!” 
the tattooed man licked a stripe along the length of her dripping cunt, the overflow of her arousal sweet on his tongue. jimin was addicted, senses overflowing with all of her. “what else sweetheart? elaborate for me.” 
“’called taehyungie ‘n hoseok t-to help with my heat-, oh my god!” she squealed when jimin’s skilled tongue slipped past her entrance, feasting on the heavenly nectar that gathered there. YN was sinful, without even trying, her innocence turning the man on beyond compare. corrupting her, tainting his little angel.  jimin moaned into her core, loving how she desperately cried out his name. letting a inked hand run through his teal tinted locks, jimin lifted himself off of his knees and begun to  sooth her whimpers, smoothing over the curve of her ass. “they said- oh my - they said no so i called kookoo to he-help! jimin!” 
the tattooed man growled into her cunt, possessively at the other hybrid’s name. memories only driving him to push his tongue into her pulsing hole, he smirked against her, drawing patterns on her desperate cunt as she cried out. before adopting YN, jimin knew next to nothing about owning and taking care of a hybrid, let alone about their reproductive cycles. so when his kitten fell into her first heat with him,  jimin panicked and immediately took to calling namjoon for advice. 
jimin remembered his face being bright with a red when his little, sweet, innocent kitty begged him to fill her up with his cum. because, sure, park jimin had been with girls before but this was YN and YN was his precious little baby. jimin had never seen her in such a state before, tears pooling in her beautiful, doe eyes like she was in pain. desperately needing something, someone to take the edge off.
namjoon offered up jungkook to help take care of jimin’s darling kitten and of course, he was sceptical. jungkook wasn’t gentle, he couldn’t take care of a little thing like YN. 
but oh how jimin was wrong. 
never in his life, in his time with YN had he heard her scream such filthy words, begging for jungkook to stuff her full of his load and breed her till his heart content. of course the panther obliged, groaning and barking orders into YN’s ear as their skin slapped against each other. 
and so it became a regular occurrence from then on, jimin making a home on the living room couch as jungkook took her round after round after round. YN’s moans  like a sweet melody filling the void of the apartment, causing jimin’s cock to harden in his sweatpants. he should have felt bad, bad for touching himself to orgasm whilst listening to YN being pounded away. it wasn’t until recently, when jimin had confessed his feelings (and jealousy), that he started helping her through the heats. making his name, jimin , the name that she chanted like a mantra.
“minnie, it hurts,” YN gasped, a slur in her words after he’d neglected her cunt for too long. with a teasing smile, jimin withdrew his face from her heat, replacing his tongue with a finger, slowly pumping it knuckle deep within her red hot walls. jimin grinned cockily in delight, feeling her walls take him in like a glove, pushing her (or rather his) sweater over her ass and up to her chest. 
kissing a trail up her back, jimin smiled against the expanse of her skin, reaching her neck and biting down just hard enough to form a love bite. he wanted YN’s skin to shine with his work, painting blue and purple hues across her skin like the night sky. “i know angel,” he murmured softly, millimetres away from her sensitive cat ears. “i’ll take care of you baby, i’ll fill you up so good, fuck you raw and then feed your tight little pussy my cum, would you like that kitten?” jimin’s voice was raspy in her ear, making YN’s chest heave at the thought of jimin inside her spasming walls. a fresh set of tears watered in the cat hybrid’s eyes as jimin’s finger curled, bringing her closer to the edge. stars formed behind cat-like irises as she teetered over the brink of orgasm, the knot in her stomach desperate to uncoil.
but just as quickly as it came, it stopped. “or would you rather kookoo?”
jimin’s whisper was hot against her kitty ears, causing them to twitch as she almost sobbed into the pillow with a shake of her head, moaning out for something, anything. “what about him, kitten? would you prefer if he fucked you like this? tossed you around and filled you up with his seed? hmm?“ jimin spoke harshly, landing a spank to YN’s ass. “i bet you would, all you can think about is being filled with cock and cum, bet you’d take anyone in that filthy cunt of yours.” 
“no, no, no!” YN cried, grinding her ass back into jimin’s jeans, leaving a wet patch at his crotch once she realised he had moved there. “i-i want you, i want you minnie please! don’t want him, don’t want koo, only you...”
the blue haired boy smirked lightly and sat back on his knees, slowly manoeuvring to unbuckle his belt. the clink of metal clanking on metal made the kitty moan in wonton as her ears swivelled at the sound. “say it again.” Jimin commanded, stripping off the rest of his clothes, the scent of his arousal filling his kitten’s nose. “beg for master, darling.”
“please, please i need you, m-master please- ” she didn’t need to say much before he was swiping the swollen, burning red head of his cock along her soaked slit. jimin shuddered above her, easing his thick cock between her folds as he encased the kitten between his arms. his bare chest moulded perfectly with the slope of her back, her ass resting comfortably at his hip. “hmmm minnie...”
in return, jimin gave an experimental thrust of his hips, whimpering into YN’s hair when she clenched around him. “fuck kitten, alway s’fuckin tight for me.” he moaned, thrusting in again, just to hear her little mewl’s of pleasure. the head of jimin’s cock caught on her wet walls, dragging against them as he repeatedly pushed in and out of her hole, abusing the sensitive area by rolling his hips into her constantly.
jimin lifted himself from her back, hands settling on her hips as he pulled her as back onto his cock, watching her cheeks jiggle with every movement. YN’s face was pressed deep into the pillows as she cried out his name, grinding back onto him like her life depended on it. “m-minnie please...” 
“please what kitten?” jimin panted, kissing up her spine again but never slowing the pace of his hips. “what is it that you want, hm? is my cock not enough for you?, greedy girl. want me to go faster? harder?” 
the blue haired male punctuated his words with swirls of his hips, his bright red tip prodding at her g-spot, eliciting a series of purrs from her kitten lips. he ravished the back of her neck once more, pausing his movements to let her roll back onto him feverishly, her cunt clenching right around him as her orgasm drew near. “h-h minnie, oh!” her purrs grew louder, moans reduced to mumbling his name and sighing once the weight of his body was on top of her again.
jimin’s thrusts became erratic, the force behind them more powerful. YN squeezed around his cock, purring for him and sending the vibrations going straight to his dick. “you gonna cum kitten?” he groaned into her hair, caging her in underneath him as he focused on thrusting deep. thick fingers fumbled to flick at her swollen clit with one hand, the other pressed lightly on her neck, forcing his thumb into her hot, wet mouth. “gonna make a mess of my cock?”
“yes! ’m so close,” she slurred, biting into the fabric of the pillow to control herself.
jimin nipped at her ear. “cum for me baby.” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut when she contracted around him one final time, arching her back to rut against him. jimin helped YN ride out her high as she milked his length for all he had, the tightness of her heat becoming too much for him. “where do you want me?”
“c-cum inside me, fill me with your kittens. breed me.” she purred, breathless as she swivelled her hips over his cock, the man above her practically sobbed as he gave a final two thrusts, filling his baby up with his thick hot seed.
jimin felt his arms give out as he collapsed to the side, not daring to crush his precious angel with his body wait. closing his whiskey eyes, jimin stilled to let his breathing calm, only cracking an eye open when YN moved over to give his inked arm appreciative kitten licks. “good? you’re okay, right princess?” he hummed in concern. 
“mhm! thank you jiminie, i think it’s settled for now. could i have some water please?” YN smiles shyly, the dimples in her cheeks returning. jimin chuckled, the switch of her personality reminding him of how innocent she could be and if he wasn’t so tired he knew his cock would have stirred again. with a shake of his blue hair out of his eyes, jimin nodded and sat up, leaning over to grab a bottle of water from the emergency supply under the bed. “thank you!” 
after the first few heats that he’d helped YN with, jimin quickly realised that both she and he would need replenishments if YN were to stay healthy and he were to keep up his stamina to satisfy her. it was a good thing that he could never get enough of her. the inked man watched with tired eyes as YN gulped down the water, trickles falling down the corner of her mouth and dripping onto her bare chest as she swallowed it down easily. 
wonder what else she could swallow like that, jimin thought. a small cough caused him to shift is gaze from his hybrid’s chest and up to her, innocent eyes. “you’re staring, minnie.” YN whined, with a pout on her lips. 
“you’re beautiful, is staring a crime?” he countered, moving to press a kiss where the water lay and followed to trail back up to the corner of her mouth. YN shifted on her knees, gasping quietly at the soft touch. jimin grinned widely against her supple cheek, biting it softly as he sensed another hot rush flooding through her. YN was so responsive to him, and only him. 
it was a privilege that he loved.
“no, but if i didn’t know any better, i would think you were the hybrid in heat...” she gasped, eyes rolling back as jimin moved his hands to cup her breasts. 
“whaddya say baby, another round?” 
“please, master.” she nodded, already moving to straddle jimin’s lap, ready for another round in the sheets. 
oh, what a good kitten she was. 
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cheri-translates · 4 years ago
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Headcanon - when someone strikes up a conversation with you
This work, 当有人找你搭讪, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸
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[ VICTOR ]
The fortnightly report in LFG is happening this afternoon. Dressed in elegant and intelligent work attire, your high heels click against the floors of LFG as you head towards Victor’s office.
Victor’s still in a meeting, so you have no choice but to wait for him in the office. A new intern carries a stack of documents and knocks on the door, and you give him an apologetic smile. “CEO Victor is still in a meeting.”
The intern waves using his free hand. “That’s okay, I’ll wait here... may I know who you are?”
Apart from Goldman, nobody else in LFG knows about your relationship with Victor. As of now, you aren’t ready to disclose it to everyone yet.
“I’m the person in charge of a TV production company.”
After hearing your self-introduction, he scratches his head and makes a request.
“Ah, I’ve heard of you. Miss, would you like to give me your phone number? I could let you know in advance if CEO Victor is in a meeting, so you can save yourself the trouble from making a trip here.”
You knit your brows. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I happen to be responsible for addressing queries related to investments. If you don’t mind, we could talk about it over dinner?” Hearing your rejection, he immediately fires a second invitation.
“She minds.”
A mildly displeased voice drifts from the doorway. You turn, not knowing how long Victor has been standing there.
Surprised, you rush over to pull on his arm.
“I’m really sorry, I have dinner plans with my boyfriend,” you tell the intern.
Blood drains from the intern’s face. After saying a quick goodbye, he leaves the office hurriedly.
You lift your head and shoot him a smile. “Teacher Victor, are you jealous?”
He responds with a dark expression. “No.”
With a puff of laughter, you continue teasing him. “If that’s the case, I’ll have dinner with that boy then?”
“You dare to do that?”
It’s unusual for him to wear his emotions on his sleeves. Clearly, the attempt to steal what belongs to him has left him infuriated. 
However, basking in the happy fact that Victor is jealous, you fail to notice it, and even tug on his arm. “Teacher Victor, you were jealous! Teacher Victor, your ears are red!”
“You’re prohibited from laughing.”
Presented with this rare opportunity to mock him, you won’t let go of this chance so easily. “Little Vic is just too adorable! Let Big Sister shower you with affection!”
“Looks like you aren’t clear-headed.”
You reach out to pat his head, even courting death by tousling it. 
“No more pudding this month.”
?!
“Great Victor, I was wrong QAQ”
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[ GAVIN ]
Recently, there seems to be a dip in Loveland City’s security, resulting in a spate of daylight thefts. Unfortunately, you were one such victim.
You didn’t tell Gavin about this, because he has been away on a mission for a week. The last time you were on the phone with him, he mentioned that he’d still need another three days. Not wanting him to worry, you decide to report the incident to the police station. The person who attends to you is a young police officer.
“Please describe in detail the situation during the time of the incident.” The police officer requests, his face slightly red.
“I was walking along Finance Street on my way home when a motorcyclist snatched my bag from behind.” 
You do your best to convey everything that happened to the police officer, who then informs you that he will contact you should there be any developments in the case. Because of that, he takes down your phone number.
After a few days, you receive a call from a foreign number. Thinking it’s a business partner, you answer without hesitation.
“H-hello. May I know if you’re that lady who reported the daylight theft incident? We’ve caught the motorcyclist. C-could I ask if you... you have time this afternoon to drop by the police station to con-confirm that it’s your bag?”
Only after a moment do you realise that the person stuttering at the other end of the line is that police officer.
“Sure, I’ll go over at 5pm, is that okay?”
The officer’s voice seems to perk up. “O-of course! See you later then!”
You treat it as him simply being happy to have solved a case, so you don’t put much thought into it. After work, you head to the station and confirm that the suspect caught was indeed the person who had stolen your items. After filing in documents and retrieving your bag, you realise that apart from your money, everything else is intact.
Just as you’re about to leave, the police officer suddenly appears with a rose in his hand. “Miss, I... I like you. Will you... be my girlfriend?”
The confession, which came out of absolutely nowhere, leaves you stunned.
“What are the both of you doing?!”
Before you can react, a chilly and clear voice cuts through the air. It’s Gavin, who has just made his triumphant return!
The moment you see him, the many days of longing courses through your veins, and you lunge towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Gavin, you’re finally back! I missed you so much...”
Gavin’s firm arms gently encase you, and his eyes brim with affection, his voice containing insuppressible tenderness. “I’m sorry. I came back late and caused you to worry.”
Shaking your head, you rub your tears onto Gavin’s clothes.
“Why are you at the station? Did something happen?” Gavin comes to his senses and looks at you worriedly. You explain everything to him.
“How are you? Are you hurt?” Mother Gavin’s first priority is always you.
Even after telling him that you’re completely fine, he still turns you around twice, verifying your state for himself before he relaxes.
“Captain G-Gavin, this is...” The police officer’s voice interrupts, his face pale as he looks at Gavin.
“This is my wife.”
The tone he uses with others is colder by several degrees, completely void of the warmth he has when talking to you. His glares piercingly at the rose.
The police officer visibly trembles. “I won’t disturb Captain Gavin and... Sister-in-law then.” He hugs the rose to his chest, dashing away from the scene.
You tilt your head upwards with a massive grin. “Captain Gavin~ Jealous?”
He coughs softly, rubbing his neck as he faces the side, with no intention of replying.
Seeing this, you tug on his tie, forcing him to lower his head. Quickly, you plant a kiss on his lips. The tips of his ears turn red, and his gaze shifts around unnaturally.
With the joy of someone whose prank was a success, you ask, “So, Officer Gavin, can we go home now?”
Gavin smiles, taking your hand in his.
“Mm, let’s go home.”
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[ LUCIEN ]
Ever since you got into a relationship with Lucien, you’d attend his seminars when you have time to spare, becoming a regular guest in Loveland University.
After submitting a report on Friday and seeing that it’s still early, you prepare to head over to the university to make up for lost sleep listen in.
Walking into the large seminar room, Lucien gives you a slight smile from the lectern. After giving him a wave, you look for a seat and settle down.
Biological concepts of cells and molecules are gibberish to you. Paired with Lucien’s unique and gentle voice, you soon grow drowsy, your head bobbing. Seeing this, Lucien inconspicuously pulls open the curtains, inviting the sharp sunlight into your eyes. 
Suddenly, someone pokes your back from behind. 
“Classmate, wake up.”
You whip your head around - it’s a bespectacled male student.
“It’s really hard to keep up in Professor Lucien’s classes. You’ve got to pay serious attention!” He gives you a small smile.
You nod, straightening up to show that you’d definitely listen carefully. But not taking a nap on this beautiful summer afternoon seems to be a waste of this conducive environment. Very soon, you start dozing off again.
The boy sitting behind you proves to be stubborn. Whenever your head bobs slightly, he’d poke you gently to wake you up.
With his amicable reminders, you get through an incredibly “cheerful” lesson. After the class is finally dismissed, the boy gives you yet another poke.
“Classmate, could you give me a way to contact you? Next time, we could sit together during Professor Lucien’s class so I can wake you up when needed.”
You shake your head. Just as you’re about to reject him, a strong arm forcefully tugs you several steps backwards.
Turning, you see that Lucien’s standing behind you, holding a bundle of files. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to him.
“Student, do you need anything? It’s been a while since class ended ^-^”
You know that when Lucien smiles this smile, things aren’t good. He’s definitely jealous again. 
“P-professor.” The male student stares at the hand around your waist, realisation dawning on him.
“Wife, you didn’t tell me that you were dropping by my class. I would have reserved a seat for you.” Lucien crinkles his eyes as he looks at you, but all you feel is coldness creeping up your spine. 
You laugh awkwardly. “...hahaha there's no need to. I was in LFG just now, so I came over since I have nothing on in the afternoon. There’s no need for special treatment...”
“I shan’t disturb Professor and Professor’s wife. I’m leaving now!” The student senses that something is odd, and immediately makes a strategic retreat.
Seeing that the hindrance is gone, Lucien sets the files down, trapping you in between his arms and the table. He nibbles on your earlobe gently.
“I think I saw a little butterfly and that boy interacting constantly during the lesson. How is the little butterfly planning to explain this?”
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[ KIRO ]
It’s a rare occurrence for Savin to give Kiro a full day of rest. It happens to be Christmas, so the both of you have arranged to go stargazing at Lake Misty.
Dressed in a fluffy red dress, you arrive at Lake Mistry early. Chancing on a booth selling sparklers, you decide to buy some to give your little sun a surprise.
“How much is this?” You ask the boss, holding up a box of sparklers. 
The boss is a young man. Upon seeing you, a blush tints his cheeks. “It’s $2 a box.”
You rifle through your pockets, realising that you don’t have cash on you. “Do you accept payment via WeChat?”
The man eyes light up, and he immediately says, “Miss, you could become a member by adding me on WeChat. This way, I’ll sell you a box for $1, and if you buy two boxes, I’ll give you another one for free.”
Hearing such a great deal, you agree. Just as you take out your phone and input the amount needed for the sparklers, a warmth envelops you from behind.
“Good evening, Miss Chips~ I’m sorry I’m late QVQ”
You turn to see Kiro, who is wearing a baseball cap and a mask.
“You’re not late at all! Ki... Mr Chips, look, I’m buying sparklers~”
“That’s great! Let’s go play~”
Although he’s talking to you, his eyes are fixed on the young man. For some reason, you feel a chill run down your spine. Soon after, he takes your hand in his and leads you away from the shop.
-
It looks as though the stars are right at your fingertips. You wave the sparkler in your hand exuberantly, while at the same time telling him about what happened at the booth earlier. Kiro seems to ponder on it for a while, but soon joins you in setting off the sparklers.
Three boxes of sparklers turn out to be insufficient, and they are expended quickly. After going for a stroll together, shoulders pressed against each other, Kiro sends you home.
You sense that the smile on your little sun has a hint of viciousness in it. But you shake your head, rejecting such a notion. After all, Kiro is so adorable, right?
-
When he’s back at home, Kiro flips open his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. He enters a string of code, then pauses. 
He wears Helios’ fiercest smile on his lips. 
-
The next day, in a phone repair shop:
“Sorry, we’ve never come across a phone virus which deletes WeChat contacts. I think you should check with another shop,” says the repairman to a certain young man.
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[ SHAW ]
Hearing that there would be a performance in Live House tomorrow evening, you asked Shaw for a ticket. However, he claimed that all tickets had been sold out, and there weren’t any left for you.
-
This morning, while taking Shaw’s jacket for him, a well-preserved ticket falls out of the pocket. Picking it up, you wave it in between your fingers. “Shaw, what's this?”
Shaw freezes. He didn’t think you’d find it so quickly.
You give him a teasing glance. “And you still said there weren’t any tickets left. Did a certain person prepare one for me in advance?”
Although there’s a slight flush on his face, he grits his teeth. “I happen to have another ticket. If you don’t want it, forget it.” While saying this, he reaches out to snatch the ticket back.
You retract your hand quickly, glancing at the arrogant boy whose intentions have been uncovered. “Who says I don’t want to go? I happen to be free tonight, so I’ll reluctantly watch this little brat perform~”
“Do whatever you want!” Shaw heads out for practice, but it looks more like he’s fleeing the scene.
-
In the evening, you arrive at Live House. It’s even more crowded and bustling than usual. Finding the VIP seat matching the ticket in your hand, you wait for the performance to begin.
Although that brat has a sharp tongue, it can’t be denied that he is incredibly popular. The fangirls flock in throngs. You purse your lips, planning to head backstage to look for him.
When you stand up, a group of ruffian-looking men block your path.
“Miss, do I have the honour of offering you a drink?”
You furrow your brows. “Sorry, I have something to attend to, so I’m leaving.”
“Don’t do that. Our meeting has been decided by fate. It’s just a drink.” The man standing at the forefront doesn’t intend to let you go.
“Miss, it’s lucky for our Big Bro to even notice you. Don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!”
Just as you’re at a loss for what to do, a voice appears from behind, almost bringing tears to your eyes. “Hey, what are you doing?!”
You instantly rush to Shaw, and this enrages the man. “Grab that girl and bring her to me!”
Shaw contacts security, an expression full of distaste. “Why would they let such rubbish in here. It really contaminates my eyes.”
Then, he pokes your head. “Why are you so useless? If I didn’t come look for you, who knows how you’d end up.”
You were already feeling scared and sorry for yourself. Hearing what Shaw said, your eyes redden. “Then don’t appear then! Don’t bother about me then!”
You twist around, prepared to leave. Shaw pulls you back, his voice slightly frantic. “Fine fine fine, I was wrong. Don’t cry.”
Your wipe at your eyes while pushing him away, wanting to leave.
He grips your wrist tightly, then draws you into his arms. “All right, stop crying.”
-
Loveland TV reports that yesterday, three men have been struck by lightning. One of them has suffered severe injuries, and it’s truly lucky that they didn’t lose their lives.  
--
More translated and original works: here
[ Permission to translate ]
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君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author
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seancekitsch · 4 years ago
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You Need Hands: Part of the Prize Buck Series
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Warnings: smut, talking about abusive relationships, talking about drug use, unsafe bondage practices bc i am not a sex guru i am a writer of two flawed people, codependancy, praising
Klaus is surprised, to say the least when you come into the apartment raging, fingernails chewed off and eyes red as if you'd been crying on your walk home from work. Work was your only place, save for home, where you seemed truly happy. He notices your shaking and the barely contained rage behind the clench of your jaw.
“Hey! Hey, is everything alright?” he puts a hand out to stop you from pacing, and you turn on him, eyes glassy and red.
“Do you know what she said about us?”
What the fuck? Who would have said that? You talk to his siblings. Your boss. And. Oh. Okay, you talk to Gwen, your roommate from your University days that you recently gotten in touch with again. Klaus doesn't like her. It’s hard to get on Klaus’ bad side, but she seemed… pushy. Not pushy. What's the word he’s trying to use? Controlling? Scheming? Yeah, those are the ones. Accuracy cuts deeper, you always tell him. He pets your arm, feeble in trying to calm you down but after a few ragged open-mouthed breaths, you’re ready.
“She called us Sid and Nancy,” you continue, “She said we live in a sex den above a bodega slowly killing each other, if not outright doing it. She thinks you’re gonna get me high again. She basically met up with me up to judge me and tell me everything I’m doing wrong. I didn't even get to tell her about that paella we made last week for your whole family.”
“Oh, she’s kidding right? I’d make a terrible Nancy.” That makes you pause in your tracks, confusion lighting up your features.
“No- Klaus she thinks you’re Sid.”
“I’m not Sid.” He reaffirms, pulling you in and wrapping his arms around your frame. Noticing how the candlelight catches on your hair, making you look like a biblical angel, one of those terrifying fiery things, hard to look at but you’re all his. He knows how you feel right now, better than anyone. He’s used to being the one discounted and lectured. His own siblings, as much as he loves them dearly, only just started trusting him in the span of the past two years. It felt like something divine, that despite how mean and secluded you were at first, how you trusted him so deeply so quickly. He’d known you for almost a year, and in that year dragged you to another century, gotten you involved in a cult, exposed you to his family, ghosts, challenging and difficult situations other people could have easily cracked under without disease plaguing their mind. Klaus is capable of great cruelty and recklessness, he knows it. He knows you shouldn't trust someone who has seen and done the frankly fucked up shit he has, but you do. And he trusts you fully in turn, if not more. Even when you refused to be open with him, pushed him away; the days when you would have rather stuck pins in your hand than speak to him because he was loud and you were too weak to handle it.
He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding when he feels your head dip and fall against his chest.
“Is she right?” your voice is far away, empty. Needing some empty comfort. “Are we killing each other? Do we suck?”
“Hey, c’mon, don't be upset,” he shushes you, “We’re good for each other. We have jobs! No relapses! Bet your ex could never say that.” He couldn't, your ex was part of the reason you were here, which Klaus wasn't exactly upset about because it meant he had you and no one else did, but you probably could have benefitted from years free from an active addiction that was more or less funded by the competitive nature of your work and home life.
“I’m not upset. I’m pissed.”
That solves it for Klaus. When you're pissed, you clam up. He doesn't want to emotionally lose you for the rest of the day, or worse, the whole weekend.
“We’re not killing each other,” he confirms, “Pretty sure you can't kill me anyway.”
You snort and swat at his ribs, but then your hand doesn't leave him after the hit, instead slinking from his side to his back, coming to rest on his shoulder blade. You're holding him, which means he hasn't lost you.
“Oh, wicked thing, I’ll show you how good I am for you.”
You sigh, and feeling the pricking of your nails on his back, he takes that as permission. His hand begins roaming your body, groping at your chest, squeezing at your ass as you grab onto him, holding him for stability as he keeps moving, his large hands making you moan.
“Klaus…” you trail off. What are you trying to say? What are you asking for? You don't know.
“How many days have you been clean?” He whispers against your skin.
“One hundred and ninety three.” You know it exactly.
“See? She’s wrong,” and he goes back to peppering your face with kisses as his hands work to pull your skirt out of the way. Its dirty the way he pulls your clothes out of the way to fondle at you, to rub against your cunt through your underwear, to pull that underwear aside and find you wet and waiting. His other arm wrapped around the small of your back, holding your rumpled skirt gathered in his hand.
“I’ll be real good for you,” he affirms, slipping a finger into you, and then another. You grip onto his shoulders now, enough to keep you standing when your legs want to crumble under his thrusting. He pushes in with ease, like you were made to take his fingers, your breath hitching and tiny whines falling from your lips. His forehead dips to press against yours, sweat beginning to form on his brow. Its dizzying, how deep his long fingers can be inside you, how full and whole you feel as he holds you against him, making you shake and moan as he props you up, letting you feel like a ragdoll at his mercy.
“Hey,” he nudges you with his nose, “Hey, Lover, look over there.”
He shifts his head to the left, and your head follows. You're face to face with the image of yourself in the cheap and grimy thrift shop mirror you had bought. You see how strong his lean muscles are, how they move against you, hold you close and safe.
“Look how fuckin’ good you look.” You nod, you have to agree, heavy bedroom eyes stare back at you, your lips parted almost pornographically. Is this how Klaus sees you all the time? He picks up the pace, eagerly moving his hips along with his hand, needing to feel some release and friction himself as he works you over, your voice raising an octave as he gets rougher, until your eyes close tightly; your body stiffens, shakes, and you can hear him praising you. You're doing so well, that's it, all for me, right on my hand, you're so sexy. Your voice comes out in a shudder. Trying to thank him as your muscles twitch and you look into his beautiful green eyes.
“No, no, no, shhhh,” he hushes you again, smoothing your hair down as he leads you to walk on wobbly legs over to the bed to sit, not bothering to fix your skirt. Your eyebrow quirks as he moves to remove his belt fully, not just unbuckle it to remove his pants.
But you wise up quickly, watching him grab your hands and start to wrap the belt around your wrists. You have bondage rope somewhere around here, but this is hot, and he told you to be quiet, so you don’t make a sound. He moves your hands at the wrist, checking for you to make sure the belt won't hurt you, then pushes you back onto the bed, staring at invisible patterns on the ceiling as you lift your hand for them, belted wrists landing at the other edge of the bed. You can feel him push your skirt up even more, then you feel his skin on yours, his bare thighs rubbing against the inside of yours, then the sensation of Klaus rubbing his cock against you. Fuck, you love his cock. You love him. He watches your expression, your gasps, your sighs from lips plumped by bruising, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs against you. You're a fucking goddess. He doesn't deserve you, despite trying to carnally prove that he does. Youre so fucking good, you’ve helped better each other. Fuck what anyone says. He just hopes you believe it too.
“So fuckin’ good, Lover. Oh, I’m gonna worship this cunt,” he sighs, more to himself than you.
“Don’t make me wait, Klaus,” you command, but then whine as he enters you. Everything feels like so much, so much.
“Sensitive, Fraulein?”
“I can handle it.”
“Of course you can,” he agrees, setting his pace
He hikes one of your legs up onto his hip, then hikes his leg up onto the bed, getting a better angle to fuck you, but also to lean in and kiss you, his mustache brushing your chin, lips attaching themselves to the underside of your jaw as he kisses you fully, pressing his love into your skin.
He covers your body with his own, protective, possessive, and devoted; he fucks you through another high, making you scream into his mouth as he doesn’t slow his pace, once again shushing you and singing your praises. I love you, you look so good like this, let me live the rest of my life like this between your thighs. You want to let him take, and take, and take. Such a thoughtful, loving, loyal person. He gives. You want him to give.
“Klaus,” you sound breathless, “Klaus, come inside me, please.”
You beg, wanting him completely. He lifts your other leg, before climbing completely on the bed with you, his sweaty chest dropping against yours, palming at your breast as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, needing to feel the closeness of you as he comes.
He comes quietly, with a staggered gasp and your lips kissing his hair. One of his hands finds yours bound above your head, and grasps them both in his. He kisses your neck as he stills, body relaxing as he comes down.
You stay like that for almost a half hour before the phone on the wall rings and snaps you out of your loving haze.
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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 3 years ago
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[CN] Season 2- Victor and MC- Chapter 4 & 5 (Eng Translation)- Part 3
⌚Warning:⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to release in the global server. Don't continue under the cut if you don't wish to be spoiled!(◍•ᴗ•◍)
✧✧ PART 1 || PART 2
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-
✧ [CH 4-12] ✧
At BS office: With the help of her subordinates, MC is working on gathering information on Lu Kang, and the mysterious man in black. But the tracker she left on him lost its signal after some time, so the investigation has reached an dead-end for now.
It's also the day Victor will be released from the hospital. So, MC goes to pick him up.
He has changed out of his hospital gown, and returned to his suit and leather shoes.
I sigh inwardly, though Victor has always been very busy, but recently he seems to have become even busier.
MC: You've just been discharged from hospital, don't you want to go home and rest?
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Victor: It's not like I was really hospitalized. Besides, I remember that you still have something to report to me.
MC: Now I understand that being a CEO is really not easy.
Victor: If you really want to be considerate of others, improve the quality of your work.
I tilt my face up, and pat my bag while looking at him.
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MC: So where does CEO Victor want to test the quality of my work?
Victor: Go to LFG.
-
MC notes that Victor gets in his work mode™ as soon as he enters LFG LOL
MC reports Victor about her findings that Lu Kang once lost a lawsuit against LFG and seemed to hold LFG responsible for the bankruptcy.
Victor explains that the deal with Lu Kang's company didn't proceed because they were found secretly making false accounts and such doings will eventually lead to plummeting. LFG never did or neither do they need to persecute anyone for business competition, and it'll bring more trouble than benefits anyway.
I scrutinize the sharp air exuding from his eyebrows, and can't help but mutter under my breath.
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MC: Victor, you've always been so decisive and swift in action. Haven't you made more or less some enemies?
[Note: MC uses the idiom "雷厉风行" which literally translates to- passing like thunder and moving like wind.]
Victor: When there are interests involved, even if you do nothing, there will be enemies. The rules of the game are inherently cruel, and to have people who want to put some tricks to use, is quite ordinary.
MC gives Victor another report which she compiled based on Lu Kang's memory.
MC points out- the lawsuit incident was a while ago and it shouldn't be the reason he attacked Victor. She assumes-- it has something to do with the "game" that was mentioned in his memory many times. Lu Kang and the young man who partnered in the game probably tried to escape halfway, and they were killed because of the "no escapee rule."
Victor takes MC's reasoning under consideration, and specifically points out that all the victims of the murders are Evolvers. MC expresses her assumption that it could be because the authority of the game has some hidden agenda.
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We glance at each other, and once again each sink into reflecting on the matter.
After a while, Victor picks up the last page of the report, and flips through it.
Victor: The trail for that killer is broken?
MC: Yes, should be. We suspect that he threw away the tracker.
Victor looks at the contents of the report repeatedly, then presses it on the table, and taps his fingertips on the last spot tracked by the tracker.
Victor: This place, you've only checked the public webpage. So the trail is not completely broken yet. Let them use the internal channels to investigate again. Don't waste the first-level authority I gave you.
Victor raises his eyes and looks at me, then puts the report back in my hand.
MC: Do I need to investigate that game altogether?
Victor: No need. I will send someone specialized to investigate. Remember, everything you just said is only a conjecture.
Victor: Without my permission, do not voluntarily investigate in private.
MC: Yes, BOSS.
The worries that have been clogging up in my chest for days, finally dissipates in several degrees. Even if I sympathized with Lu Kang, this action to get back at someone is never the right thing to do.
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MC: Fortunately, this car accident is not related to the Evolver assassination. Just as I said, who would be so courageous, that he dares to pick a fight with CEO Victor?
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Victor: The "bodyguard" is finally relieved?
MC: Relieved!
Victor: Go back when you feel relieved. Start concentrating on your task next week.
I grab the report, preparing to leave, just then Victor calls me again. I look back, and see that he seems to have sent a message to someone.
He halts for a moment, then stands up with one hand propped on the tabletop, his deep gaze falling on my face.
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Victor: Thank you for these few days.
I stare blankly at him for a while, and quickly perk up with an even bigger smile.
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MC: No need to be polite, Mr. Victor. Just let me book a free pudding from Souvenir!
I turn around at Victor's momentary expression of helplessness, running out of the office like a wisp of smoke.
Ever since confirming his safety, I feel that every time we see each other, it all becomes much more relaxed.
Behind the current life, there are still bubbling up unsettling factors in motion.
But precisely because things being as such, is what makes me want to cherish the rare tranquility all the more.
-
✧ [4-13] ✧
Just a moment after walking out of the LFG building, I suddenly remember that I've forgotten one thing, and rush back to the lobby.
After talking to the administrative staff at the front desk, I dial Victor's number.
Victor: Hello?
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MC: Victor, I forgot one thing just now. To congratulate you on your 'discharge', I've prepared a small gift for you. The staff will deliver it for me later.
Victor: ....I've said I wasn't really hospitalized. What are you up to again?
MC: Just treat it as a blessing. You must accept it! That's all.
Victor: Hold on.
MC: Is there anything else?
Victor: Help me think of a name.
MC: What kind of name? A kitten, a puppy or a relative's child?
Victor: ....Common name, male.
MC: Why are you asking this all of a sudden?
Victor: Because your imagination is comperatively rich.
What kind of answer is this...
I complain inwardly, but still give it a serious thought.
MC: Let me think. How about this one!
(Players get to choose a name from the three options)
Victor: What kind of strange name is that...
Victor's helpless sigh comes from the other end of the phone.
Victor: Never mind. I shouldn't have had any expectations. I'll accept your gift. That's all.
After hanging up the call, I'm still a little baffled by the request.
He abruptly asked me to help think of a name, and also a male's name. Could it be that he is going to use it himself?
Could it be that there is something that requires a disguised identity?
But does he even need to disguise.... aren't the six letters "Victor" the best pass in itself.
Anyway, the name I gave him off the top of my head, he definitely won't use it.
I shake my head, my train of thoughts returning to the gift I've left behind just a moment ago, and can't help but look forward to it.
I wonder when the Victor of now receives this gift, what will the expression on his face be like?
-
✧[POV back to Victor's office]✧
Closing the last document, Victor leans into his chair, gently pinching his brows.
Opening his eyes, the pink-colored gift box on the corner of the table enters his line of sight again. The lofty color seems to be urging him to open it as soon as possible.
Victor unwraps the box, and inside lies a round Shiba Inu doll, appearing a little old.
He wrinkles his eyebrows, takes it out, and sees a small folded note also being pressed onto the bottom of the box.
He patiently unfolds the note again, the carefully and neatly written calligraphy greets his eyes.
Victor: (reading the note) "Congratulations on your 'recovery,' and here's a small gift for you. This is the doll that has accompanied me for many years. I wish you well and hope you're happy." - MC
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Victor: ....Childish.
Victor subconsciously says a word, and falls silent again.
Unknowingly why, but he always feels that he's somewhat familiar with this scene, but he also can't amalgamate the impression any further.
Even just the silly Shiba-Inu doll on the table, brings him a trace of intimacy.
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[Note: This is the same Shiba-Inu doll MC's dad gifted her as a kid, and she gave it to Victor in S1 "Rooftop Date," when she wanted to comfort him realizing how much he misses his departed mom.]
It seems as if, ever since meeting her and getting acquainted with each other, this strange feeling often arises.
Is it because she has an Evol associated with memories?
But again, Victor is also very clear that her Evol doesn't have effect on himself.
Or is that, it's simply owing to her?
Victor blankly stares at the doll for a while, and by the time he circles back to his senses, it's already somewhat late.
He pulls open a locked drawer next to his desk, puts the doll inside, and catches a glimpse of the document marked with a sharp " S " symbol underneath.
"Illegal psychoactive drugs", " CORE", "has the potential to stimulate Evol"...
Several eye-catching keywords are marked in red, even in the twilight, which are still clearly identifiable.
The information the girl has reported to him once again surfaces in Victor's mind.
She has organized it very meticulously, but after reading it all thoroughly, the dense fog before his eyes hasn't dispersed.
Those layers of crisscrossing threads seems to have already involved all the parties, standing in different positions, making the situation chaotic.
And all these disputes still ultimately point to the same source--
BLACK SWAN CORE.
When it's all said and done, is this situation because everyone is eager to obtain it, or is there an unknown force hiding in the depository, pulling the strings?
There are still numerous issues that needs to be resolved, and one can not always watch the fire burning across the river.
Victor locks the drawer, and glances at the clock on the wall.
The phone rings at the right time, it's an encrypted email from BS.
Mail: "BOSS, as per your requirements, the relevant information has been sent to the other party."
Victor simply knocks down a reply, gets up and puts on his jacket, preparing to leave.
A pile of events is connected into a ring, and each angler, too, is bait for another.
He is looking forward to what kind of prey can be hooked this time.
-
✧ [CH 4-15] ✧
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Victor meets Lucien at the research center, who hands him the report of a research.
Victor says the results are clear but Lucien says they only confirmed their guesses, and that CORE has been the focus of everyone after Evol was publicized, but there are perhaps other things affecting the world. Lucien asks if Victor feels that the world is not quite right and that every civilization circulates within a box, the time they have is likely more limited than expected.
Victor says it depends on how an individual views the matter, there's no need to pre-determine an outcome.
Lucien asks Victor if he believes he'll be able to get out of the box. Victor replies, "Not believe, it's a must."
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After Victor gets in the car, he receives an email: "Dear Mr. [the name MC chose for him earlier], thank you for your support towards Hunter Games."
The rest of the email is basically explaining the rules of the game.‶
-
✧ [Victor scene in CH 5] ✧
Victor is returning from a business trip. After giving Goldman some instructions, he glances out of the window of the helicopter. Even though everything is peaceful, to him something always seems amiss.
He receives an email containing only one word, "Advanced." His expression doesn't change much since he already expected this outcome. The mail disappears, and he taps on another anonymous email with the instructions- He'll be entering the betting venue in 15 minutes and he should get prepared.
When the helicopter is about to land on the LFG rooftop, he glances out of the window once again and observes the people of the city living their day to day peaceful lives.
The noise-reduction headset cuts out the sound of the outside world, but the mere information sent back to him by his vision, is sufficient to prove the tranquility of the world before his eyes.
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The helicopter lands. He settles some works with the staff.
Victor raises his hand to look at his watch, the gray clouds being reflected on the dial, slightly blurs the trajectory of the clock hands.
In a split second, along with lowering his arm, an inconspicuous red light suddenly streaks across the dial.
There's still ten minutes to enter the "betting venue".
The staff turns around, walking towards the elevator, cold wind blows on Victor's face, fluttering the hem of his coat.
Somewhere directly opposite, a small cross hair has always been aiming at the position of his heart.
??: "Code L" elimination plan in progress, target locked.
A second before the trigger is squeezed tightly, the person behind the lens suddenly lifts up, raises his head, looking straight into the set of deep eyes in the distance.
The clamors of the city conceals much of the noise, the discharge of bullet muffles in the silencer, so much so that in this shattering rain, it doesn't even make a crisp sound of snapping a branch.
A dispute between the light and the dark, seemingly has arrived to its conclusion.
[Trivia: The call that comes with the Chapter karma card-- is actually Victor nagging with MC on her report over phone inside the helicopter-- before it lands on the LFG rooftop!]
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vanilladyfics · 4 years ago
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Fighting Fate - Ch 2
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Read Chapter One
Ship: Sir Nighteye x GN!Reader
Genre: Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Office Romance
Warnings: Slight Sexuality, Yandere if you squint
Word Count: 1.3k
Summary: Nighteye’s quirk predicts his assistant will die before the night’s end, but he’s not about to accept fate this time around.
Do not repost.
-----
Everyone knew you were upset from the hard clack-clack-clack of your fingers jabbing away at your keyboard. You looked up to wish Bubble Girl a good night on her way out.  You smiled, but it looked more like you were baring your teeth.  The two of you usually walked to the subway together.  But not today.  Bubble Girl got to go home on time.  You got to transcribe case files from the Bronze Age.  Lucky.
You risked a glance up from your computer screen. Sasaki was still staring at you. Or was he staring through you? Was he looking into your future right now? What was he seeing? You tried to ignore him as he'd been ignoring you these past few days, but you couldn't. All roads led back to Nighteye. The interns should be back from patrol soon. Would they be staying overtime too, or would it just be you and your domineering, soon-to-be-ex boss? It was a school night, so Deku would have to be sent home. Lemillion had recently graduated, so it was possible Sasaki would make him stay, too. As infuriating as he was, the thought of you and Sasaki having the whole office to yourself brought... possibilities. Your eyes flicked to the tickle torture machine. Your mouth suddenly felt dry.
You had barely taken two steps from your desk before getting chastised. “Where do you think you're going?”
“Just getting myself some tea.” You smiled. Always smile, you reminded yourself. You could feel him looming behind you as you filled your mug. His proximity and impressive height only served to make you feel smaller. Normally, you thought it was a good thing, but today it had a certain edge to it. Your heart throbbed in your chest. It was just the two of you in the office, but he was standing close enough that you could smell his cologne. You wished he would say something. Touch you. Or at least back off. Why was he standing so close to you if he wasn't going to do anything? The tension broke you. “Would you also like tea, Sir?”
“Please.” He seemed to take the hint, stepping away to grab a his own mug to pass to you. You didn't miss how his hand completely enveloped the mug. God, his hands are huge. You averted your gaze, trying to focus on filling your cups than how long his fingers are.
“Sugar?”
“Yes, dear?”
Your stomach clenched and you stared, gaping at him. 'Yes... dear?' Your face burned as your heart hammered against your rib cage. Did he think you were calling him Sugar? “I meant, 'Do you want some sugar?' For the tea.” Your face burned. Did you really just ask your boss if he wanted some sugar? He was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud. Maybe he didn't know what that meant. You glanced in his direction. Sasaki's face looked as flushed as yours felt. You winced, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. But, he did call you dear, so maybe the feeling was mutual.
“Was that a Freudian Slip, [Y/N]?” He accepted the mug of tea from you with a smile, his long fingers brushing against yours.
You smiled back, pushing down the fluttering feeling in your gut. “It was just a joke. A little double entendre.”
“Of course. Your delivery is improving.”
You laughed, the tension slipping from your body. “Thank you, Sir. You were just playing along. That makes a lot more sense.” More sense than him being interested in you. Sasaki was your boss. What did you expect? Your life wasn't some romantic comedy.
“More sense than what?”
You were saved from having to answer by the phone ringing. “I'll get--”
“You are not to answer any phone calls until further notice. Do I make myself clear?”
You blanched at his new tone. The jovial atmosphere evaporated at the hard edge of his voice. “Yes, Sir.”
He left to answer it himself, leaving you to sigh into your tea. Sasaki sent your mind reeling every day, but today he was especially hot and cold. The door chimed, signaling Deku and Lemillion had just returned from patrol.
“We're back!”
You pressed on your temples, trying to will your headache away. They were young, but did they have to be so loud?
Lemillion phased his head through the kitchen wall. “[Y/N]! Are you okay?”
“My head's just been bothering me, that's all. No big deal.”
“Sorry, I wasn't expecting you to still be in. We'll be quieter.”
“Thanks a million.”
He grinned. “That is my name, don't wear it out.”
You groaned, but still laughed. Everyone you worked with had a terrible sense of humor.
The four of you would be staying overtime tonight. Sasaki had given you permission to use the company card to order dinner for everyone. You and the boys agreed on getting sandwiches. Sasaki said he had no preference, as usual. You went over the order list and dialed the delivery service.
The dial cut off mid-ring. Sasaki had his finger on the receiver button, hanging up before you could be connected. “What did I just tell you?”
“You... told me to order food for everyone.” Technically, he said not to answer any calls. You were making one, and at his request.
“Then order online. No phones. Got it?”
“Got it, Sir.” Did he have to embarrass you in front of the interns? Your eyes stung. For a hero, he wasn't very heroic. He wasn't even decent. Definitely not worth your infatuation. You pulled up the restaurant's website and filled out the order form, taking your anger out on the keyboard. Each time a more expensive option came up, you clicked it out of spite. Extra cheese? Sure! Guacamole? Si! Fresh-squeezed orange juice? OJ for all! You chuckled to yourself. So what if it was petty and immature. Take that, Mr. Hero.
The phone rang again. Didn't people know you were closed? You reached for it out of habit. You caught yourself when you heard Deku's breath hitch. The light on the monitor changed, indicating Sasaki had picked it up in his office.
“What's going on?” Deku asked.
“I wish I knew. He's been acting different for hours. I think he saw something with his quirk, but he won't tell me what.”
“Maybe... he saw himself telling you not to answer the phone?” Lemillion offered.
Sasaki's grip tightened around the handset, his knuckles blanched. “I already used my quirk today. I'm useless.”
Midnight's voice echoed through the receiver. “We don't need your quirk, we need you, Nighteye. He asked for you by name.” A hostage situation. Of course he'd get an emergency call after using his quirk. He should have known this would happen. Sasaki ground his teeth. He could see you through the office window, talking to his boys. He couldn't make out what you were saying, but you were smiling. That was good, right? He couldn't risk anything happening to the hostages, but he couldn't risk leaving you either. It should be easy. There were several hostages, and only one you. He looked at your future again.
His chest felt like a vacuum.
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
“You have ten.” She hung up.
“Lemillion! Deku!”
The interns sprung to attention. “Yes, Sir!”
Sasaki crouched to their eye level, his hands a burning grip on either of their shoulders. “I have an emergency call. You are not to let [Y/N] out of your sight for an instant. Is that understood?” His interns nodded in agreement, taking in his demeanor and opting to save any questions for later.
Your jumped out of your seat. Were these kids supposed to be your babysitters? “Sir--”
“I'll be back as soon as I can. You, stay.”
He was gone before you could object, his long legs carrying him out the door in an instant. You collapsed back into your chair. You needed a new job.
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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago
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Canvas
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Author: kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jungkook 
Word Count: 1,470
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An accompanying drabble to The Holi-Date. This drabble takes place after the events of The Holi-Date and follows Jungkook (a side character) + attending an art class and drawing nude models. 
[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]
Adjusting the easel before him with one hand, Jungkook concentrated on the blank sheet of canvas and not on what lay beyond.
An entirely nude model spread out on the chaise.
Jungkook had decided to take this class on a whim; it had been recommended to him by Taehyung and really, he should’ve known better. Taehyung tended to have a chaotic streak masked beneath that uber-straight-faced exterior. Still, when Jungkook had mentioned wanting to try out an art class, in order to better understand the work he curated, he had never suspected Taehyung might lead him this far astray.
It wasn’t that Jungkook had a problem with nudity, per se. He was fine with it and obviously, he liked being naked with certain people, but to have a stranger so brazenly displayed like the model before him – Jungkook couldn’t help it; he blushed.
Dabbing his paintbrush in the cup of water before him, Jungkook chanced another glance at the model.
She was attractive, which he found to be part of the problem. At the start of the class, their instructor had recommended separating the model from their painting, but Jungkook found this advice to be somewhat contrary. His favorite works at the museum were those which captured the humanity of their subject; those which solidified the intangible with paint.
It was one thing to accurately display a likeness on canvas. It was another thing entirely to convey a soul, to grant another person insight through a window unseen.
Hesitant, Jungkook lifted his gaze from the canvas again.
The model’s gaze remained fixated on a point over his head and somehow, this made Jungkook relax just a little. Oddly enough, he felt like he was the one on display, not the model. The fact that she was entirely open about her nakedness wasn’t what made Jungkook embarrassed. More embarrassing was the fact that looking at her made Jungkook realize he could never do the same.
Frowning at this, Jungkook fiddled with his brush. When he glanced to either side, he saw both of his neighbors were well underway. It seemed no one else had spent the first twenty minutes of class having an existential crisis over the fact that they’d never dropped trou for a room full of people.
Forcing himself to look once more at the model, Jungkook refused to blink until his eyes watered a bit. He made himself see her – truly see her – until some of the novelty began to wear off.
There; that felt a bit better.
Teeth gritted, he bent and made his first broad stroke on canvas. The teacher had gone over different techniques at the beginning of class; how to hold their brush, how to angle their bristles to create different textures. How fast you needed to paint at some points of the painting; how slowly at others.
From what Jungkook had gathered, this wasn’t a beginner’s class. Again, he cursed Kim Taehyung in his mind. Well, Taehyung would see who got the last laugh when Jungkook banished Vante’s next exhibit to the museum’s back alley, or something.
Actually – Jungkook tilted his head. He might be onto something there.
A teaching assistant had set up their easel before him, showcasing the students how he laid out the model on canvas. Jungkook glanced at this for a moment before he finally began.
In time, his wrist gradually loosened, posture relaxing as Jungkook fell into a rhythm between brush and canvas. He grew less awkward with each glance at the model until eventually, his gaze was as bold as she’d been when she dropped her robe.
By the end of the hour, Jungkook had to shake himself free when the instructor called for them to stop.
“Paintbrushes down!” she said, clapping her hands. “I’ll see you all back here next week to continue – please place your canvases on the drying racks in the next room. You should clean up your stations according to the instructions on the board. Thank you!”
Jungkook busied himself with said instructions and by the end, he felt vaguely pleased as he untied his apron. His painting wasn’t the best in the room, but it was by no means the worst among those on the drying racks.
Assuaged by this fact, Jungkook adjusted his sweatshirt as he turned, nearly tripping when he ran into the model behind him.
“Oh!” he blurted, hair flopping forward as he straightened himself. “S-sorry!”
Noticing his stammer, the model just smiled. “It’s okay,” she laughed, ducking her head. “I kind of snuck up on you there.”
“I – well, yeah,” Jungkook said, a bit embarrassed.
He forced himself to look only at her eyes, and not on the curves he knew lay beneath her clothes. The determined way he stared must have given him away though, since she knowingly smiled and – oddly enough – did not look displeased.
Jungkook belatedly registered this.
“This was your first time in class, right?” she asked with a slight tilt of her head. “I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook managed to nod. “I’ve actually uh, never taken an art class before… I only draw in my spare time. When I have the time, that is. I’m a curator at the Art Museum? Do you know it?”
Looking vaguely amused by his question, she nodded.
Jungkook nearly face-palmed. Of course, she knew it – this woman modeled for a fucking art class. Cheeks feeling about the same temperature as the sun, Jungkook wished the earth would open and swallow him whole.
Unfortunately, the earth refused to listen and remained stubbornly solid.
“Anyways,” she said, tucking her bag close to her chest. “You’ve got a really solid attention span. Very focused. Very deep.”
The corner of her mouth quirked, as though she were laughing with him, not at him and Jungkook felt a strange sort of buzz in the back of his throat. Was she flirting with him? The answer seemed like yes, but Jungkook had left the museum so little recently, it had become hard to tell. Everything about dating felt rusty and strange.
Hell, he hadn’t even managed to work up the courage to ask out the girl he had a crush on. Admittedly, Mina had just broken up with her dickwad fiancé and was in no place to date, but Jungkook wouldn’t even know how to go about asking her out if he wanted.
Eyeing the model before him, Jungkook straightened his spine. She seemed nice, was very pretty and had actually sought him out at the end of the class. Jungkook usually wasn’t the type to casually date, but wasn’t that why he’d sought out this class in the first place? To broaden his horizons, try something new and gain different experiences.
“I didn’t think that you’d notice,” he finally said with a smile. “You were so busy staring at the wall over my head.”
“You really were absorbed in your painting, huh?” Gently, she laughed. “I was actually scolded by my boss for missing the time I was supposed to turn.”
Jungkook blinked. “Turn?”
“Mhm,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “I’m supposed to turn around halfway through class. I didn’t, though. I wanted to keep facing you.”
Jungkook found his mouth had gone suddenly dry. “You did?”
He was aware he sounded a bit like a parrot, but he’d never been very good at the small talk thing. Give Jungkook a museum and he could talk your ear off, but every day wordplay and chitchat? No good. 
Maybe he could get better, though.
“Yeah,” she said, fiddling again with her bag. “I saw your painting of me and thought it was nice!” Bashful, she smiled. “Will you be here again next week?”
Jungkook, who had been at the start of class seriously considering not returning, felt something entirely different unfold in his chest.
“Yeah,” he said, hair falling into his gaze when he nodded. “I think that I will.”
She smiled and turned, walking out the door and Jungkook was left all alone in the room. He fixated on the podium for a moment, wondering if he’d ever feel bold enough to be a model himself.
It seemed near-impossible, but then again, Jungkook would’ve deemed this entire class to be impossible mere hours ago. He’d been stuck in the same place for so long that any sort of change seemed inconceivable. That didn’t mean it couldn’t happen, though – after all, two new things had happened to him in one day. Who was he to say what would happen tomorrow?
Feeling slightly more excited about next week’s class, Jungkook turned on his heel and he walked out the door.
© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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kikis-writing-world · 4 years ago
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Who’s The Boss
Summary: Max has a late night meeting with his boss to discuss his recent poor performance. She might have an idea or two on what he can do to keep his job.
Pairing: Max Phillips x F!OC (It is written third person, but there are very few descriptors. Could be read as F!Reader)
Word Count: 3.8k
Rating/Warnings: 18+ SMUT! D/S dynamics (sub!Max, use of “ma’am” and “good boy” honorifics), abuse of power (consensual boss/employee,) oral (f receiving,) squirting, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, role playing, established relationship, aftercare conversation (he’s a vamp and doesn’t really need any, but it’s brought up CUZ ITS IMPORTANT!) Swearing. No beta/editing. As always, if I miss a tag please feel free to let me know! I wanna keep my bbys safe <3
A/N: Idk why I thought I should write Max being dommed? I guess I wanted our vampire frat boy to be put in his place?. Anyway... here it is, I’m only mildly ashamed lol
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Max watched as the final person boarded the elevator, finally leaving the office. He’d been anxious all day, uncharacteristically so, for the rest of his coworkers to leave for the night. He nearly felt like shooing Elaine out of the office by the time she was packing up. With the floor empty, he finally turned towards the closed door of the office.
She’d disappeared into the office about 40 minutes ago. The door was closed but the light was on, bleeding through the crack under the door. He steeled himself, not truly knowing what he was going to meet on the other side once he knocked. Grabbing the nearest file folder off the nearest desk, he shook his arms loose and crossed the room. His knock was answered by a clipped voice, calling for him to enter.
She was sitting behind the desk, looking over various papers and reports. Her bottom lip, perfectly painted bright red, was caught between her teeth. The cardigan she’d worn earlier in the day was draped over the back of the chair. The top two buttons of her tight blouse were undone, the third looking ready to pop open over the swell of her breasts. He cursed the desk from blocking his view of her lower half. He’d seen the pencil skirt she was wearing as she walked the office earlier and he would love another look at her bare legs.
“Can I help you, Mr. Phillips?” She drawled. Her voice oozed with boredom and she didn’t even look up at him. Something about his disinterest had him aching to catch her attention.
“Uh, yes, Mrs-”
“Miss.” She cut him off with a sharp glare before he even had a chance to say her name. It was so abrupt, he almost felt like he was slapped with the syllable.
“It’s Miss.” She repeated, eyes boring into him. “I’m not married. What use would I have for some useless husband?” She scoffed, sitting up and giving him her full attention. His eyes dropped to her chest, seeing the way the movement put even more strain on the fabric covering her.
“Well? Are you wasting my time for a reason, Phillips, or are you here to stare at my breasts?” She snipped, eyebrow quirking up in challenge. Her lips pursed, proud of herself for catching him. He might have blushed if he was physically capable.
“It’s my sales numbers.” He grimaced. She was already in a bad mood and it was about to get worse.
“I’ve already seen your numbers, Phillips.” She sighed, standing up. His eyes followed her hands as they smoothed down the front of her skirt. “Have a seat,” she ordered, gesturing to the chair opposite her. He sat as requested, keeping the folder in his lap as she rounded to the front of the desk. The red patent stilettos she wore nearly made his mouth water.
“Now Max,” she paused to perch on the edge of the desk. He fought to keep his eyes on her face and not the long legs on display in front of him. “May I call you Max?”
“Of course.” He nodded, desperate for her approval.
“Max, we had very high hopes for you when you came to us but lately your numbers have been dropping. You’re not quite up to par. What’s going on, buddy?” She asked with an exaggerated pout.
He struggled to answer, not only because he was scared to disappoint but also because she crossed her legs as she spoke. Any thoughts he had about defending himself disappeared, the only thoughts on the smooth inner thigh and scrap of red fabric she’d flashed him.
She tsked, stopped his ambling for a coherent thought. “That’s a shame. You had good credentials, good references, you did amazing in your interview.”
She leaned back onto her desk, both arms stretched behind her to keep herself propped up. He wished beyond wishes that button in the center of her chest would finally give way.
“If you don’t start impressing me, we’re going to have to let you go.” She stated.
Max’s eyes widened, tearing his gaze away from her body to her eyes. “There has to be something I can do. I need this job. I’m better than these numbers, I promise.”
“Hmm,” She hummed, biting her lower lip as she thought. Despite the worry over losing his job, he wondered how it tasted. “There may be something you can do for me, Max.” She decided, uncrossing her legs.
“Anything.” He breathed, and by god did he mean it.
The last thing he was expecting was for her to lift her leg, resting the arch of her foot on his shoulder. The overhead lights bounced off the shiny material of the shoe as it found its perch, the thin heel pressing not uncomfortably into his collarbone. His mouth ran dry as he followed the line of her leg up from her foot to where it disappeared under her skirt. The skirt that had ridden up her thighs as she lifted her leg high enough to pin him in the chair.
“Why don’t you show me that silver tongue you bragged about when we hired you.” She purred.
Max’s jaw dropped and it took his brain a second to catch up. It didn’t help that what little blood he had coursing through his vampiric veins was entirely focussed below his belt.
“Yes ma’am.” He breathed. He tried to move forward, but her leg kept him in his seat.
“You can start there.” She instructed, very glib for what she was asking him to do.
“Yes ma’am,” he repeated. He cupped her calf in his hand, pressing his lips to the inside of her ankle. He kissed it tenderly, eyes on her to see if he was pleasing her. Her lips quirked up, almost imperceptibly so but it egged him on regardless. He kissed her ankle, licking the soft skin. He tested the pressure against his shoulder, moving his lips farther up her leg. When he met no resistance, he continued upwards.
He nipped at the skin of her calf, worshiping every inch of skin she permitted him to reach. When she felt his teeth against her skin, she didn’t jump, but warned him not to bite. He glanced up at her, trying to show his apology in his eyes. She seemed appeased and didn’t say anything more, letting her leg drape over his shoulder as he moved higher.
He reached her thigh, looking up for permission to push her skirt out of the way. Instead of verbalizing a response, she hooked her other knee over his shoulder. Trapped between her soft thighs, he could already smell her arousal. She lifted her hips from the desk, pushing her weight onto him. He slid the skirt up to her waist, revealing the lacy red number that she had been hiding all day. He moved to pull the garment down over her ass, but she stopped him with a hard pull of his hair quickly grabbing his attention.
“Do you really think you’ve earned that yet?” She asked. He could tell it was rhetorical, that he hadn’t earned it. He responded by releasing the lace, which earned him a good boy. He didn’t have a chance to preen under the praise as she pushed his head forward to her core.
He gripped her thighs as he licked at her through her panties. The fabric was already damp and tasted of her. He groaned, gripping her plush thighs tighter.
She sighed above him, releasing her tight grip on his hair to stroke it instead. Her nails dragged along his scalp in the most delicious way.
The lace grew slick quickly, his own saliva mixing with her arousal as he worked at her. It clung to her skin, almost showing him what she looked like underneath. He longed to taste her without the damn barrier between them.
Her hand left the back of his head, but having received no further instructions, he kept licking and sucking at her. He pushed his tongue as deep into her as the underwear allowed, swirling his tongue against her walls before focusing back on her clit. Chancing a glance upwards, he saw that she had unbuttoned her blouse, her hands playing with her nipples through the matching red lace bra. He moaned at the sight.
“Focus.” She chided, although her tone was breathy with pleasure. He obliged, hoping that if he made her feel good enough, she’d give him more. “So easily distracted.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He muttered, not daring to move away. He heard her breath hitch as his voice vibrated against her. He hummed against her, hoping to recreate the sensation.
Her hips bucked as she gasped. He smirked proudly against her, but a moment later she was pulling him away by his hair again. He looked up at her, licking her taste off his lips as he wondered what he’d done wrong.
“Take them off.”
He barely stopped himself from ripping the delicate fabric into pieces, instead sliding it hastily down her legs. He dropped the red lace to the ground, diving back into her core. He moaned at the taste of her with nothing blocking his way this time. He devoured her like a man starved.
His increased efforts seemed to be working for her, as she leaned backwards onto her elbows with a moan. He wanted to tell her how exquisite she tasted, but was worried taking his mouth off of her to do so would just annoy her. He tried to convey it with his actions, licking as deep into her as he could. He groaned as her juices coated his tongue, dripping down his lips and chin.
Her hand was back in his hair, firm grip directing him up to her clit. He obliged, circling the bud with his tongue. He tried different motions, listening for her reactions to find what she liked best. Anytime she moaned or gasped, he tried to make her do it again and again. His chin was soaked, but it felt like she was growing wetter by the second against him.
“Fingers,” she breathed, a pleading tone to her voice. The sound made him ache in his pants, her in-charge facade losing power as he pleasured her.
He plunged two fingers inside her, her walls fluttering around them as she whimpered. He worked them in and out, crooking them upwards against her muscles as he searched for the spot that would drive her wild. He knew he found it when her hips jerked against him, heels digging into his back as her grip on his hair grew near painful.
“Right there,” she confirmed, voice breaking. “Oh god Max, right there.”
He thanked whatever evil magic behind vampires that he didn’t need oxygen to live. Even if he did need to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to pull out of her tight grip as she came. As her taste flooded his mouth, he acknowledged that this would have been a valiant death indeed. She ground her hips against him, using him to prolong her pleasure.
He only pulled away as her body went limp, her hand releasing the back of his head as she reclined against the desk, panting to catch her breath. He sat up, devouring the sight of her splayed out in front of him as he licked her from his lips. Her lipstick was smeared so slightly from biting her lips, her skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat. He could see her nipples peaked against the lacy bra. Her legs were still propped on his shoulders, giving him an exquisite view of her twitching pussy. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her as he began undoing his pants.
The sound of his belt clanking open had her looking down at him. She frowned, despite her relaxed stance.
“Oh no, no, no.” She practically sang, stopping Max in his tracks. “You think one little orgasm and I’m going to let you fuck me?” She laughed, breathless. “It’s going to take more than that. Especially if you want me to forgive those awful sales numbers.” She sat up, chest still heaving. She fanned her blouse, trying to cool her body.
When Max’s voice finally returned to him, he asked “What do I need to do?”
She cupped his chin, making sure he kept his eyes on her face. “Such a good boy,” she cooed, caressing his cheek with her thumb. He leaned into the loving touch, craving more of it. “If you want to make me forget those numbers, you better make me soak this desk. Make a mess of those reports and I won’t be able to read the numbers, will I?”
The grip on his chin tightened as she leaned forward, holding in place as she stared him down. “And then maybe I’ll let you fuck me. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” He gulped, staring deeply into her eyes.
“Good boy.” She smiled, giving his head a quick shake before she released her grip and laid back against the desk once more.
Max didn’t need to be instructed further. He wanted to fuck her. Wanted to prove that he deserved to fuck her, that he could make her feel so good if she let him. The second she laid back, he dove between her thighs once more.
She was still sensitive from her first orgasm, if her twitching muscles and breathless moans were anything to go by. He eased two fingers back inside of her, searching once again for that spot. She was tighter but wetter than moments before and he throbbed in his pants. He could feel his dick leaking with excitement, but he had to ignore it for now. It would be worth it if she finally let him fuck her.
He sucked her clit gently to start, easing her back into the sensations, but worked up to a feverish pace quickly. She was writhing under him in no time as his fingers twisted inside of her.
He heard objects falling off the desk as she squirmed. She was making a mess and he loved it. Anything that could serve as proof that he was rocking her world was good in his book.
“M-Max, I’m-” She moaned as something heavy clattered to the ground.
He growled against her, massaging and pressing inside her. If she wanted to make a mess, he’d make a mess of her.
He felt her whole body tense up and shake before exploding as she cried out. Her convulsing walls pushed his fingers out of her as she came, warm and wet against him. He moaned as it soaked him, drinking up as much of the sweet nectar as he could as he circled her clit with his fingers. He felt his shirt sticking to him as her cum dribbled down his chin and neck.
As quickly as it happened, it was over. She lay whimpering and twitching on the desk as he sat back against the chair beaming with pride. She didn’t even look up at him as he gently lowered her legs from his shoulders, bringing them into his lap instead.
He caressed her lower legs, grounding her and letting her know he was there as he waited for his next orders. He was almost painfully hard as he waited for her to come back to him, to finally give him the permission he craved. If he didn’t get to fuck her, god he was going to kill something tonight.
She sat up slowly, her hair a mess. She looked like the perfect centerfold of the dirtiest magazine he could think of, eyes hooded and dark. She reminded him of the MTV video vamps he jerked off to as a teenager, only hotter. Teenaged him would have blown his load twice-over by now.
“So, you can follow directions then.” She hummed.
Max couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling in his chest. “When there’s an incentive.”
She chucked with him, leaning towards him. She reached out to wipe his face, collecting her juices on her fingers. “The carrot instead of the rod then.” She smirked before sucking her fingers clean.
“Whichever one gets to fuck you.” He shot back, adding a ma’am as he remembered himself.
“Don’t get cheeky,” she warned although she grinned. “But you’ve earned it.”
Max thought he might faint as she crooked her finger, beckoning him forward. He stood so quickly the chair toppled behind him. He stood between her legs, pressing as close to her as he could. He could feel his pants dampening across his thighs where he leaned into the desk under her. He was trembling with anticipation, but he waited for her permission to go any further.
She caressed his cheek, tiling her face in thought. He nuzzled into her hand, aching for more of her touch, to please her.
“You want me?” She purred.
“Please.” He nearly whimpered.
“How do you want me?”
“Anyway you’ll have me.”
“Good boy.” She grinned, patting his cheek twice. She turned his head, pressing her mouth to his ear to whisper “bend me over the desk and fuck me like your job depends on it.”
He was never so glad for super-human speed. She was bent over the desk, ass on display in a second. He heard her gasp as she was laid flat over the top of the desk, but he could hardly care. He was too busy pushing his pants down his thighs, finally freeing his cock.
He lined himself up, not daring to ask if she was ready lest she take back the permission she’d given. He thrust into her, groaning loudly as he finally sank into her warmth. She moaned, back arching under him. He had to pause, already so close to cumming after the long wait.
“Fuck, Max.” She panted as she adjusted to his size. It only took a second until she was wiggling back into him.
He gripped her hips tightly. Not having been able to bite her, mark her up, he hoped her hips bruised. Hoped she would have a lasting reminder of him taking her over the desk in the days it took to fade.
He thrust in and out, hearing the breath punched out of her lungs with every stroke. Her hands were scrambling for purchase, looking for something solid to hold onto as he fucked harshly into her. He grit his teeth, trying to stave off his own increasing pleasure. He had to make this last. She moaned beneath him, pushing back into his thrusts once she gripped the edge of the desk for leverage.
He was glad he’d had the patience to wait until the office was empty. There was no doubt what was happening in this room from the lewd sounds. Skin slapping skin; moans, grunts and cries. Watching her ass bounce against him, he was glad he hadn’t died between her thighs. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.
Feeling bold by the noises she was making, he reached forward and gripped her hair, pulling her head back. She whimpered before moaning his name loudly. He felt her tighten impossibly around him. Taking that as approval, he kept the grip tight.
“God, Max,” she moaned loudly, voice echoing off the walls. “If you could make sales with your dick, we’d be rich.”
He growled through clenched teeth, eating up the praise. Releasing her hair, he wrapped his hand around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. She whimpered as it changed the angle inside of her, her eyes fluttering closed.
“‘S’at mean I’m keeping my job?” He huffed into her ear before licking a stripe up her neck.
“Seal the deal first.” She shot back. He nearly laughed that she was still trying to hold authority over him in such a vulnerable position. Her legs were shaking, her voice trembling and hoarse.
He released her neck to palm her breast. He squeezed at the soft skin as he nosed along her shoulder. She smelt like sweat and sex, her typical perfume all but faded. He swore he could even smell the blood in her veins, flowing so fast, so hot.
She cried out his name as he pinched her nipple. He pushed her back over the desk, feeling her legs close to giving out. He could feel her getting close to her third orgasm, her walls fluttering around him. He stopped holding back, ready to chase his own release. Sneaking his hand beneath her, it only took the barest flick to her sensitive clit until she was wailing beneath him.
His eyes rolled back as her walls clamped around him. Feeling her walls fluttering around him, convulsing with release, it only took him a few more shallow thrusts until he was joining her. His loud groans bounced off the walls of the small office as he buried himself deep within her. She whimpered softly, reaching back to hold the hand that was clasped around her hip.
As he came down from his high, he pulled his softening length from her. He watched her walls flutter against nothing, his seed dripping out of her. He gripped a cheek in each hand, massaging them. It made the milky liquid drip out of her quicker, spreading over her lips. It was hypnotic.
He stopped himself before any could drip down onto the carpet. He took a kleenex from the box that had miraculously stayed on top of the desk throughout the encounter, using it to clean her up. She whined softly at the touch, overstimulated and spent. He threw the used tissue in the bin with perfect accuracy.
Lifting his pants back to his hips, he rounded the desk to sit in the rolling chair she had occupied when he entered. He couldn’t help but laugh at the goofy sated smile on her face as she remained on the desk. She looked up at his laugh, eyes bright but tired.
“So, do I keep my job?” He asked with a grin, smoothing down her hair.
“Mmhmm.” She nodded, closing her eyes at his touch. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
He laughed heartily at that before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Another round, maybe.”
“Ugh, vampire.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I mean, I didn’t say anything-”
“No, you were perfect.” He promised her.
“‘Kay. Good.” She sighed. “Cause if you needed, I’d move right now. I would.”
“I believe you.”
She groaned as she stood up, stretching her tired muscles. She kicked her shoes off, legs shaky enough without the heels, and padded slowly around the desk, leaning heavily on the furniture for support. Max watched with a smug grin.
“Shut up.” She pouted, sitting delicately in his lap.
“Didn’t say anything.” He argued, wrapping his arms around her.
“You were thinking it. It’s not my fault I can’t keep up with you.” She complained, nuzzling into his neck.
“Nope.” He denied, letting the word pop. “I was wondering if I get to be your… what did you say, “useless husband” again.”
“I was getting into character.” She laughed softly. “You’re always my useless husband, Mr. Phillips.”
“Don’t you forget it, Mrs. Phillips.”
Tagging @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @thisisthe-wayson​ @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​ @gorgeousgrogu​ (you replied to my post about writing this, but I can remove the tag if you’d like)
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vennilavee · 4 years ago
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to build a home - ch 4
memory misplaced
TBAH masterlist
Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)
Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District.
chapter summary: reader goes through a bad break up. takes place about 4 years before the present story
Warnings: cursing, alcohol, drama, reader sleeps around lol
Word Count: 3838
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Levi walks past your empty office, a morsel of curiosity wiggling its way into his mind. You’ve been gone for three days and it was an abrupt absence. You hardly ever take days off without letting everyone know.  He wonders if you’re sick or something. But you were fine on Monday… So what is it?
At least Erwin of all people has to know, as your direct boss. But Levi stays out of it, shifting his eyes to the interns who are furiously typing away on their laptops at their cubicles. He takes a sip of his hot tea and heads into his own office, putting thoughts of you to the back of his mind.
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Levi doesn’t see you until the following week and when you finally do return, you come back as if you hadn’t been mysteriously gone for four days. He says nothing when he passes you in the hallway going to his office, only offering you a small nod of acknowledgement.
Your lips might be impeccably painted, blazer pristine and lashes curled, but Levi sees nothing but pain sitting in the planes of your pretty face. 
You don’t offer a smile back as you normally would. You don’t have it in you to break the lines of your lips to do so.
Concentration doesn’t come easy to you that day. You’re uncomfortable, out of your element. Maybe you should’ve stayed home. But you’ve been home for the better part of a week. You’re lucky that Erwin is your friend and that he allowed you this much time to wallow.
You’re uncomfortable in your own skin. You subconsciously itch your wrist with sharp nails. 
You’re single. It sounds foreign to you, considering you’d been in a relationship with your now ex-girlfriend for a little over a year. You stare at your fingers, at the absence of any of the jewelry she had gifted to you over the last few months.
You thought it was the real deal. And then it wasn’t. Something inside of you lurches when you glance at the photo of both of you near your monitor. With shaky hands and shaky breaths, you manage to peel the photo out of the frame. You don’t want to look at it but you don’t have the heart to throw it away. You tuck it into your backpack, hoping it gets crumpled without your intervention.
And she had broken up with you. The worst part was you hadn’t even seen it coming. Not even a month ago, you were talking about moving in together. 
You sigh, trying to avoid the inevitable spiral of despair. You can’t tiptoe down that dangerous path, not when you have a mountain of work to catch up on.
***
You keep to yourself mostly over the next few weeks at work. Levi comes to wonder when you’ll barge into his office without permission, as you usually do. He doesn’t see you with Hange in her office, scolding her about her habits or giggling over gossip. 
Your door is closed, and Levi can’t think of the last time he’s ever seen your office with it’s door closed. Levi was tempted to knock on your door but he can’t even tell if you’re inside. He hears the faint noise of typing. And then he hears a frustrated sniffle.
Levi steps away, not wanting to hear something that he shouldn’t. He hears you curse under your breath before he swiftly walks back to his office, pretending he was never there.
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Leaning back in your office chair, you sigh heavily as iciness seems to fill your bloodstream slowly but surely. Has the ceiling always looked like that? So awfully bland and commonplace? Dull and dismal? Like you? Is that why she left?
Is that why she left?
You nearly scoff at yourself. Look at you, dictating your own self-worth over the actions and reactions of the person you love. Or loved. Love? Present tense? Can those intense feelings dissipate so quickly? What bothers you even more is that you didn’t even see it coming.
How could you not see it coming? How could you be so delusional to think that everything was fine, when apparently, it wasn’t?
How could she allow you the false sense of security? How could you allow yourself the false sense of security?
But maybe you had missed the signs. Were there any signs?
Maybe people just fall out of love. At least, that’s what she had said to you. That it didn’t feel the same. It’s not you, it’s me. 
Who were you to argue with that? You’ll refuse to beg, refuse to beg for an explanation, refuse to beg for her love. Even if she had plunged her anchor of a hand into your stupid, foolish heart and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe… You would never beg.
You swallow the ache in your lungs and bury it in the pit of your stomach, make yourself a cup of coffee and get to work.
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A month. Then two. Then four. And suddenly, it’s six months later.
You’re walking into work on this bright, beautiful Monday morning. Birds are chirping, the sun is high in the sky and there’s even a light breeze in the air.
You’re coming off of a weekend long bender, complete with a throbbing headache and the taste of cotton in your mouth. Your reflexes are delayed and the sun burns red in your retinas despite your sunglasses. You hope Levi doesn’t catch the wrinkles on your collar and on your shirt. You don’t think you can handle his sharp tongue and scathing look. Not today.
You had barely gotten ready to leave for work on time this morning. It had taken far too long to kick your guest out of bed.
Your guest from the night before. You barely remember her name, you only remember the scent of her sweet, vanilla perfume. You recall it being almost too sweet. 
The thought makes you gag. 
Yeah. You’re dealing with the break up really well.
You set your backpack down in your office and head to the break room to make yourself some coffee. Of course, Levi is already there with his teacup. 
“Sunglasses inside? You look like an asshole,” Levi greets you, raising his teacup in acknowledgement.
“Thanks. You’re a dick,” You mutter, putting your coffee beans into the coffee machine and taking the creamer from the fridge.
“You look like shit.”
“You done yet?” You shoot him a scathing glare. Not that he’d be able to tell.
It would be almost comical, if you didn’t show up like this more and more over the last few months. He knows Hange and Erwin are worried, not wanting to set you off by confronting you about your behavior. Hell, he’s worried, too. That you’re hurting in a way you don’t even realize. That you need to heal in a way that might feel foreign and uncomfortable to you.
A hand brushes over your shoulder as he exits the breakroom, a wordless but welcome comfort. Your shoulders relax at his fleeting touch and you stir your coffee absently.
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It had been a pure coincidence. It had been a stroke of fate, a laughable atrocity. That’s the only explanation, for why your ex-girlfriend is staring you in the face with another woman from across the club.
Mike, Hange, Levi and Erwin had asked if you’d like to join them at a club on Friday to end the week. At first, you had declined. And then changed your mind because you realized that you missed your friends terribly. You can’t recall the last time you had seen their faces for more than a few minutes outside of work.
You had even invited them to your apartment to have drinks beforehand- 
Your speakers are charged, the apartment freshly cleaned, and alcohol recently stocked in anticipation for company coming over. 
You wonder what Levi will think of your cleaning.
One by one they arrive, first Levi and Erwin, ever so punctual. Then Mike, with Nanaba. And last, but not least, Hange. About thirty minutes after all of them. You’re all already one drink into the evening and you eagerly give Hange a mix of her favorite cocktail.
You see Levi peering around your apartment in mild curiosity, and you can’t help but tease him.
“What? You impressed that someone can clean better than you?”
“No,” Levi rolls his eyes, but you see the twitch in his lips.
“It’s alright, Levi. You can admit it.”
“I’d rather choke on my own tongue, thanks.”
“Now that’s a sight I’d pay to see.”
You wink at him and walk away for a minute, when Hange calls your name to take a shot with her. It’s tequila, and it burns in the best way. Only Hange can get you to agree to tequila. As you walk away, Levi watches the curve of your hips, the glistening tan of your skin, the way your heels and your jeans make your legs look endless. 
He’s not immune to you. You’re pretty, but more than that, you’re funny and brilliant and caring. He thinks your ex-girlfriend is an idiot for letting you go, if anyone was to ask for his opinion. As your friend, of course.
Levi takes a hearty gulp of his drink, vaguely realizing how strong you had made it. Apparently, you were heavy handed with your pour.
Suddenly, his neck feels hot when he watches you lick your hand with salt and throw your head back to take your shot of tequila. The junction of your neck is accentuated by the necklace you’re wearing- it’s tight and inviting around your neck. And then the slight wince on your face, before thrusting a lime slice into your mouth.
He rolls his eyes at the thoughts floating through his mind before turning his gaze away and observing your apartment. It’s warm, littered with pieces and parts of you. A few frames hang on the walls, a painting above your couch. A mahogany bookcase to the right, next to your corner of plants. Your bookcase has clearly worn out books in it, some dog eared and some not. But you also have some trinkets on the shelves- a snowglobe, a small royal blue box with a golden ribbon on it and a little pink succulent in a painted clay pot.
There’s a light coating of dust on some of the shelves, but he’ll keep that to himself for a bit.
It seems like forever ago that you were in the comfort of your own apartment with your friends. You’re frozen in place, and it seems like she is, too. The woman on her arm glances at you, then at her, and then back at you before shaking her head and walking away.
You hardly notice. Because you only see your ex-girlfriend, in this crowded sea of people. And you feel almost nothing. Except for hurt, sadness, and the anger that follows. You have a million words to say to her and twice as many questions, except your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. 
The bass thumps through your veins as a coldness washes over you.
Was there anything even left to say?
No. You decide there isn’t. You’ve already come to terms with the fact that closure isn’t always what you need it to be.
Before she can get a word in edgewise, you turn your back on her and head back to your friends at your table. Levi notices that your lips are pulled into a grim line and that your shoulders are tense. But you say nothing, instead only offering to buy another round of shots for everyone. And then another. And just another.
Soon enough, your arms are wrapped around Hange’s waist as you both sip on matching drinks. A lazy, drunken grin is plastered on your face and you’re nearly swaying on your feet as you and Hange both sing along to the song playing through the club speakers.
Levi can feel a headache brewing. He usually hates places like this for the most part. But it’s not so bad, he thinks. Maybe because despite the crowd, the noise, the dirtiness of bodies close to each other… He still feels like he’s in his own bubble with Hange, Mike, Erwin, Nanaba and you. 
As quickly as your smile had floated across your face, dripping in drunkenness, it sours. Levi follows your line of vision and sees a woman who looks familiar. He can’t quite place it, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s your ex-girlfriend. She’s currently walking towards you with a determined look in her eyes.
Conversely, your dark eyes have turned icy and you’ve recollected yourself quickly. Levi doesn’t know anything about your previous relationship. All he knows is that it was an unexpected break-up.
“Can we talk?” An unfamiliar voice asks and your eyes narrow. 
Levi thinks that he would hate to be on the receiving end of that stare.
“No. I have nothing to say,” You say coldly. You flinch when she tries to reach out to you. Levi doesn’t miss the way your hand tightens around your drink.
Should you grant her the dignity of the closure she needs? Are you mature enough to do that? You want to hurt her the same way she hurt you, and you’re not above admitting that. 
Despite the alcohol coursing through your system, you’ve never felt so clear headed before.
“Seriously? That’s a surprise,” She scoffs and Levi can see steam coming out of your ears.
“Are you kidding me,” You laugh mirthlessly, “You given’ me attitude? You are giving me attitude?”
“I’m just asking if you wanted to talk-”
“I wanted to talk six fucking months ago!” You hiss and step away from the table to face her. And so that your friends don’t need to hear you airing out your dirty laundry. 
Your eyes are wild, rage and hurt and poison flooding into them through an already broken dam. 
“Fine,” You shrug, once you find a relatively quiet place away from people, “Let’s talk. What could you possibly want to say to me?”
Your heart aches, in that familiar way that makes you want to twist your limbs together and never leave the safety of the four walls of your home. And yet, you are here. About to have a very belated conversation with your ex-girlfriend. You want to say a million things to her, you want to spit steel into her heart, the same way she did with you. You want to show her the poison that has curled in your blood and left a bitter taste in your mouth that leaves you choking most nights.
She can have a taste of your angry mouth when all she’s known from you is your softened, sweet lips.
She opens her mouth first, but you beat her to the punch-
“I cannot fucking believe that after six months of you not taking my calls or answering my texts or anything- the only fuckin’ reason that we’re discussing anything is because of a happy coincidence,” You seethe, pointing an accusing finger at her.
“You just- you just fucking left! And verbatim, you said ‘it’s not you, it’s me’! So it was just me, when we were talking about moving in together? It was just me when I told you I loved you? When I told you that we could work through anything, it was just me?!
“I can’t believe you, and I can’t- I can’t explain to you what it’s like. To be completely blindsided by someone who you thought was your other half. Only for them to say that the last year and a half just isn’t what they wanted. And for you to already have determined that this wasn’t worth salvaging- god, you are so- fucking- full of it!”
Your voice is loud, attracting several onlookers but you don’t notice. You feel like you’re in a pit of hell and that you’re about to be swallowed by flames. Tears of frustration, anger and hurt are dotting your eyes and you hate it. You hate that you’ve become this way, afraid to show vulnerability to anyone who might care about you.
“I deserved better! You know that right? You didn’t deserve me.”
She looks stunned into speechlessness and you want to turn away and turn your back on her. But you stay planted on the spot, subconsciously waiting for some semblance of regret or remorse.
You catch a flicker of it but it passes, and you wonder how you could have loved a person this much and still have known nothing about them.
“I’m sorry I ended things the way I did. I didn’t want to hurt you,” She begins and you don’t interrupt, “And I know it was selfish of me, the way I didn’t communicate with you what I wanted and needed. And led you on. I should’ve gone about it differently. And for that, I’m sorry.”
The roaring fire in your belly is slowly fading and suddenly, you’re exhausted. Your shoulders slump and you offer her a small smile.
“Did you love me? When we were together?” You ask quietly, and somehow she hears you through the chaos of the club. 
You know she did. You just need to hear it from her.
“Yes, of course I did,” She murmurs, “I still care about you. I want the best for you, I really mean that. And the best for you isn’t me.”
“Likewise,” You reply and find it in yourself to wrap your arms around her for one last hug.
You expel the final death of the relationship into the air with a cathartic breath. Despite the buildup of hurt, anger, betrayal and loss from the last few months, you feel nothing but relief. You are free from the invisible cage of closure, and you finally feel your wings spreading once more.
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How can it be that just a five minute interaction can put your mind at ease so quickly? You had expected lingering resentment, or lingering something… And yet, all you feel is relief. That you were able to say what you had to say. 
It still boggles your mind that even though it’s been six months since the relationship ended, all you needed to fully move on was a five minute confrontation. Maybe you were mostly there anyway, though. 
Maybe time does heal all wounds.
Either way, all you know is that you’re suddenly very emotionally exhausted and you’re certain it shows on your face.
Hange looks like she wants to ask you what that was all about but she keeps her mouth shut, offering you the remainder of your drink. You give her a wan smile and finish the rest of it before rubbing your temples.
“You know what. I think I’m going to head out,” You finally say, fastening your clutch tightly under your arm, “Gettin’ tired.”
You appreciate their looks of concern but honestly, you just want to wash your face, put on comfortable clothes, bury yourself under your covers and maybe cry a little.
“I’ll leave with you,” Levi says after a few seconds, “I hate this place anyways.”
Yes. He tells himself that that’s why he’s quick to leave. A small grin graces your face before you give hugs to everyone in the group and slink away to the coat check. Levi follows you out of the club to wait for a cab and you both stand in silence.
“I can get a cab home by myself,” You finally say, turning to face him.
“Okay,” Levi shrugs, “I don’t know where you live anyways.”
“Stohess district,” You reply, but your voice is far away as you turn to glance around the street, “Hey, do you want to grab food? It’s on me.”
Your dark eyes are wide, pleading and slick with loneliness. You don’t want to be left alone with your thoughts just yet. You can barely handle yourself on a good day, let alone right now.
“Sure,” Levi says. He’s not particularly hungry but he’ll entertain you anyways.
“There’s a great ramen place around here…” You say, brushing shoulders with him to lead the way.
You feel as if you’re moving on auto-pilot. Maybe you should’ve just gone home. But you don’t want to be home. You don’t want to be alone, not tonight. You’ll prolong the inevitable for just a little longer. You can’t handle being alone right now. Not yet. 
Levi sits on the opposite side of you in the booth. There are several people at the restaurant but it’s relatively quiet, besides the bustle of the late night. You both sit in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. At this angle, Levi can see signs and lines of fatigue on your face. But you still smile at him in that brilliant and disarming way, as if you hadn’t had a confrontation that had been in the works for months.
“Good, right?” You mumble, after another slurp of your ramen.
“Yeah. Tastes fresh,” Levi replies.
“It is.”
Another beat of silence.
“Thanks. For leaving the club with me. And coming with me to get food. Sorry I’m so- that I’m like this,” You murmur, looking into your ramen and continuing to eat. As if you hadn’t just apologized for your very existence.
It incenses Levi and he can’t bite his tongue.
“Who made you like that?” Levi asks casually.
“Who made me like what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, setting your chopsticks in the bowl.
“Made you feel like you had to apologize for being yourself.”
Your eyes are wide and lips parted in surprise, “I d-don’t-”
“You don’t need to apologize for wanting company after what I’m sure was an incredibly taxing encounter with your ex-girlfriend,” Levi says bluntly, meeting your startled eyes.
You avert your gaze immediately, unable to hold his penetrating stare.
“O-Okay, Levi,” You breathe.
And you continue to eat your ramen.
“You’re not very good at pretending,” Levi observes dryly, “So don’t. Especially around your friends.”
The statement brings tears to your eyes and a dry lump to your throat. This man, who you’ve barely been a real friend to in the last few months, can read you like a book. Lately, the few times you’re reminded that you have people in your life who love you wholly and unabashedly, it brings waves of emotions you haven’t felt in a while to the forefront of your heart.
“If you’re going to cry, don’t get it in your ramen,” Levi says, voice uncharacteristically soft.
It pulls a watery noise, halfway in between a laugh and a sob, out of you. You both eat in silence, with some occasional quips thrown in between, until Levi pulls his card out to give to the waiter before you can. He moves with the speed and grace of an angel.
He’s an angel with steely eyes, dark hair and a tender heart. You’re certain of it.
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tags: @simpingmaize​
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honeypiehotchner · 5 years ago
Text
piece by piece -- Steve Rogers x Reader
Hello from quarantine! School work has been drowning me, but I’m here with a fluffy one shot I thought of when I was listening to “Piece By Piece” by Kelly Clarkson. Full disclosure here that I have no idea what movie timeline-wise this oneshot would be set in. It’s just a cute lil thing I wrote to get me through the days!
Summary: You used to work for Tony Stark, but left to pursue the rest of your academic career. Steve never told you about his feelings for you, so when you return, he’s more than ready to confess and never let you go again. The only difference is, you don’t return just with two new degrees. You return with something more.
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You take a deep breath as you hold tightly onto your daughter’s hand. Sarah looks up at the Avengers Tower with wide eyes.
“We’re going in-in there?”
You nod. “Mommy’s going to work there starting next week, so we’ll be here more often,” you tell her. “Is that okay?”
To your relief, your daughter grins. “It’s super awesome!”
You smile and squeeze her hand. You were scared she’d be too afraid or that she’d hate you for taking her away from the countryside where you had raised her the past four years. Turns out, the kid loves the city. You can only hope she’ll love everyone on the inside of the Tower, too.
Tony told you to meet him in his office, but you don’t get that far. FRIDAY stops the elevator instead on a different floor, puzzling you, but you know better than to question Tony’s AI. 
You step off with Sarah’s hand clutching yours tightly, and as soon as you make it around the corner, you’re both met with loud cheers and an obnoxiously large Welcome Back! banner.
“What?” You start laughing, unable to help yourself as you look around at all the faces of the people you used to see on a daily basis. All the lifelong friends you made and hated to have to leave.
Tony is the first to greet you, stepping forward to give you a hug. “Welcome back, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Tony,” you smile, accepting his hug. “Are you gonna stop calling me kiddo now that I have an actual kid?”
He looks at you like your request is absurd. “No.” He pauses after to kneel down to see where Sarah is hiding behind your legs. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Her name’s Sarah,” you offer quietly. “Sarah, honey, can you say hi?”
Very softly, she does. “Hi.”
“She’s shy,” you chuckle. “But she’s pretty excited. She told me she thinks your tower is super awesome.”
“Well, thank you,” Tony smiles down at her. “You know, I’m glad you think that because I also think it’s super awesome.”
That earns a small laugh from Sarah. From there, Pepper hugs you too. Bucky waves and you return it, knowing he’s never been one to hug. Natasha surprises you with a hug and a wave to Sarah. And the teenager that you don’t recognize at all can hardly contain himself. He has a friendly face, though, so that must be good news.
“Hi miss, I’m uh-- I’m Peter Parker.”
“Hi Peter,” you smile. “I’m Y/N L/N,” you mimic his tone, trying to muffle your laughter. You’ve never known a teenager to seem so giddy and introduce themselves with their first and last name. 
You’re too intrigued by the fact that a teenager is here that you miss the sigh of relief Steve lets out. But Bucky doesn’t, and he gives his best friend a strange look.
Steve doesn’t notice. All he notices is you. You...you who apparently has a daughter now. You’re a mother. But you still have your last name. And no ring. So you’re single? But obviously there has to be someone else -- a male someone else in the equation if you have a kid--
“Steve.”
The man in question looks up to see you’ve walked closer, shaking your head at him. “Steve Rogers. How are you doing?”
The two of you always had a unique relationship when you were here. Full of sarcastic remarks and sometimes too harsh jokes. Your wit is something Steve has missed more than anything around here. But he mostly misses your kindness. While the two of you would be at each other’s throat sometimes, you both knew it was all in good fun, and whenever the other needed a listening ear or even a shoulder to cry on, the other one was there.
“I’m good, how are you?”
“Just good?” You chuckle, masterfully staying upright as Sarah tugs down on your arm. “You look startled.” You reach down and pick her up, knowing she wants to be at the same level as everyone else. You sit her on your hip as you wait for Steve’s reply.
“Uh...you-- It’s nothing. It’s been a long time, that’s all.”
You know what he’s trying to get at, but you really don’t want to talk about it with Sarah in earshot. 
Wanda, ever the life-saver, walks over with a wide smile, poking your daughter in the ribs playfully. “Hey you, would you like a piece of cake?”
Sarah’s eyes widen and she looks to you for permission. You nod without question. “As long as it’s chocolate.”
“Of course,” Wanda says.
“Please?” Sarah asks.
“Duh,” you grin, setting her down. “Save some for me?”
“Duh!” Sarah calls back before running behind Wanda over to the kitchen.
Bucky glances between you and Steve with a slow nod as it dawns on him. Well, it had already dawned on him, but part of him still loves to grind Steve’s gears, so he was going to stay for as long as he could. Until you gave him a look. Then he realized he should probably go. 
“Right,” Bucky breathes. “I’ll go too. It’s nice to have you back, Y/N.”
“It’s nice to be back,” you call after him, earning a nod over his shoulder before he disappears into the kitchen with everyone else.
You turn back to Steve, finally alone. Both of you share a knowing, nervous look for one silent moment.
“So…” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets. “How old is she?”
“Five,” you answer with a small smile. 
Steve opens his mouth to say something else but is promptly cut off by Tony yelling. 
“Hey!”
You turn around, nearly glaring at your boss. “What?”
“What do you mean what? I bought this cake for you, get your ass in here and eat some!”
You shake your head as Tony disappears again. He won’t ask twice and if he does, you’re sure some other comment will come with it.
“We should get in there,” you say to Steve, offering an apologetic smile. “We’ll talk later?”
“Okay,” he accepts, knowing you’re right and Tony is impatient. “Come on.”
You start walking toward the kitchen and you get the idea to shove Steve’s shoulder, but he doesn’t budge one inch. “Woah. Been working out?”
He laughs loudly. “I think you’ve just gotten weaker.”
You gasp. “That’s rude, Rogers!”
Entering the kitchen, everyone heard your remark. Bucky raises his eyebrows in question, so you repeat what Steve said.
Bucky, always one to be on your side, again to grind Steve’s gears, throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “How dare you, Steve? That’s no way to talk to a lady.”
“Exactly,” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.
If that was anyone else with their arm around you, Steve might have lost it, but since it’s Bucky, Steve brushes it off with a smile. 
Steve’s attention is quickly brought elsewhere when something -- someone, rather, collides with his leg. He glances down in confusion, seeing that it’s only Sarah. She has her arms wrapped around his calf, hiding behind him, and he doesn’t realize why until he sees Tony walking around the counter with chocolate cake on his face.
Steve can’t help but grin. He’s only known Sarah for a few minutes, but he can already tell that she is exactly like you.
Speaking of you, Steve catches your eye a second later, but you’re already looking. Bucky’s arm is still around you and you’re trying to smear icing on his nose, but you’re failing miserably because you’re watching Steve.
Steve Rogers. The man you’ve loved for as long as you’ve known him, but have never once told him. The man with the most gentle and kind heart that no one else will ever come close to having. The man who lets your daughter hide behind his legs when she needs a good hiding spot. The man you hated leaving the most.
+++
After the excitement dies down and everyone goes their separate ways -- including Tony with Sarah because he promised to show her the lab and of course, she begged you to go. You let her, but only after Pepper said she was going, too. You love Tony, obviously, but you don’t know that you trust him that much. Especially in the lab.
Meanwhile, Steve has been itching to be alone with you. No longer for his original reason of confessing his feelings, but now to ask you about Sarah -- that is if you even want to talk about it. He mostly wants to know how you are.
And that moment does come.
“Alright, I can practically hear your questions already, so ask away,” you tease, plopping down on the couch. 
Steve slowly sits down next to you, a little farther away than you were expecting him to, but that could be because you want him to be close close close.
“I don’t want to overstep…”
“You’re not,” you assure him. “I promise. I trust you more than anyone, Steve. I’ll gladly answer anything.”
“You...You’re not wearing a ring.”
You almost laugh, but you stop yourself. ���I am not,” you show him your hands. “You are correct.”
“But you have Sarah.”
You nod. “I do.” You know what he’s getting at, but you want him to say it.
“So...her father isn’t in the picture?”
There it is. “He’s...in one picture. From the night she was...conceived.” You grimace upon seeing Steve’s face flush red. “Sorry, this is so awkward. His name was Andrew. We met at a party. Everything was consensual. When I found out I was pregnant with her and he was the only one I had had sex with recently, I called him and told him.”
Steve nods slowly. “What did he say?”
“He thanked me for telling him,” you shrug. “But that he wasn’t ready to be a father. And he didn’t want to be part of her life.” You feel your tears betraying you, welling up in your eyes. You’ve processed this by now. You’re past it. Sort of.
Steve scoots closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright,” you sniffle, shaking your head. “I wasn’t expecting a ring or anything-- He and I barely knew one another. But I guess I just...wasn’t expecting him to not want any part of her life at all. I thought he at least would’ve...I don’t know, wanted to know her. Get to know me, maybe be my friend, but I guess not.”
Steve stays silent. He’s too angry to say anything. He hates seeing you this hurt.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. Something about being back in Steve’s arms has the dam breaking, tears streaming down your face and wetting Steve’s shirt. The protectiveness you feel when you’re right here is what you searched for while you were gone. And you never found it. Because it’s always been right here.
“We don’t even speak. And we weren’t close,” you pause, voice breaking, “so I don’t even know why it makes me so sad. I didn’t lose a best friend.” You wipe under your eyes, shaking your head. “I guess that’s not it. Because I didn’t lose a friend...Sarah lost her father.”
Steve clenches his jaw, tightening his arms around you. He silently prays that he never crosses paths with this Andrew. Steve doesn’t trust himself to not break the man’s face.
“Sarah didn’t lose anything,” Steve whispers. “Did you see the way she warmed right up to Tony? She gained a whole family today, you know. We’re going to look out for her.”
“I know,” you chuckle, sitting up to look at Steve. “I saw her hiding behind you.”
Steve smiles.
“Thank you,” you murmur, squeezing his arm. “For still being here.”
“I’ll always be here for you, darlin’,” Steve promises. “And Sarah, too. Always.”
“You have no idea how much that means to me, seriously.”
Steve’s thumbs brush the tears off of your cheeks, smiling gently.
The familiar sound of little footsteps causes you to turn your head to see your daughter running toward you with the brightest smile. Tony and Pepper trail behind her, Tony smiling smugly.
“I showed her the suit,” Tony supplies.
“Of course you did,” you shake your head, pulling Sarah up into your lap. “Did you have fun?”
Sarah nods vigorously. “So much fun! T-Tony has a metal body!”
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “He does have one. Was it super awesome?” Sarah nods. “Even more awesome than the Tower?” You ask.
Sarah nods even more. “More awesome.”
“That’s pretty awesome,” Steve chimes in with a serious nod.
Sarah looks to him and mirrors his expression. It’s a very serious topic.
“Hey,” you think of an idea. “Steve here also has something super awesome.”
“I do?” Steve questions.
“Yeah,” you nod, turning Sarah so you can whisper in her ear, but Steve still hears. “I bet if you ask him, he’ll show you his super awesome shield.”
Sarah gasps loudly, eyes wide. “You do?”
Steve grins. “I’ll go get it, you wait right here.”
He leaves to grab his shield and Sarah climbs off your lap to sit on the couch, excitedly telling you about what else she saw in the lab. She quickly gets distracted by something else, so you let her run off, as long as you can keep an eye on her.
“You know,” Tony speaks up, walking around to sit on your other side. “We have an extra room here.”
You give him a look. “Tony…”
“It would save gas,” he offers. “And stress. It would be better for the planet, and all that bullshit. Plus...we can help you look after her.”
“You’re already attached, aren’t you?”
“Wrapped right around her finger,” Tony sighs dramatically, not even denying it. “But the offer still stands.”
You glance over at your daughter gazing out the window, face pressed against the glass, marveling at how high up you all are.
You shake your head with a smile. “I guess we’re staying here.”
Steve hears that sentence leave your lips and he can’t hide his smile. He doesn’t mention it, though, instead letting you and Tony finish your conversation while he goes to show Sarah his shield.
You watch Steve sitting on the floor to be at the same eye-level as Sarah and you feel more tears coming on, happy tears this time.
He’s right. Sarah didn’t lose anything. She gained an entire family. She gained multiple father figures. And you both gained the kind, gentle man that is Steve Rogers.
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andinewton · 4 years ago
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Daddy-to-be-VictorxMC - Happy Holidays
It’s been FOREVER since I wrote one of these, so thought I’d finally finish the one I had part done!  I am completely pain addled at the moment, basically stuck resting as I can’t walk, so please excuse any errors or typos.  I just wanted to get it out and done before I drug myself for the night!
So, enjoy!
Happy Holidays 
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You wiggled your feet in your flat shoes, trying to ignore the way they pinched.  Your feet were swollen, at least you assumed they were, you hadn’t seen them in some weeks now.  Your gown was a beautiful silver, tailored perfectly to your enormous bump and flowing with so much material you looked positively angelic, which fit the LFG Holiday Party perfectly.  Victor himself wore a tuxedo, his bow tie, cummerbund, and pocket square the same material as your outfit.  He had promised you wouldn’t stay late, he knew how hard the eighth month of your pregnancy was being on you, exhaustion and swollen joints preventing you from what until recently had been your normal routine.  On the doctor’s advice you had been signed off from work but continued to stay in touch with Anna and make important decisions.  You never thought you would be tired of being pregnant but it was getting very close to it.
The sigh you gave was barely a more heavy exhale than normal, but Victor picked up on it, sitting beside you as he was in the limo.
‘You don’t have to do this.’  He cupped your hand in his in your lap, knowing that lacing would only hurt your swollen fingers.  ‘Just say the word and we turn around and go home.  I’ll even let you eat cookies in bed.’
You laughed softly at his attempt to let you off the hook.  ‘Thank you, Victor, but I want to go.  Anna and everyone from the office will be there and I miss them.’
‘If you insist.’  He raised your hand and kissed your knuckles.  ‘But we won’t stay late.  A quick once around the room to greet everyone, then home.’
‘We’ll play it by ear.’  You rested your head on his upper arm, settled further by his scent and warmth.
Your face was aching from smiling and it had only been an hour.  The first and foremost question you were sick of hearing already was the mock surprise of; haven’t you had that baby yet?  Victor had been eaten up by the crowd almost immediately as board members and investors alike wanted to share a drink with the youngest and most successful CEO in Loveland city.
‘You look absolutely fed up.’  Anna appeared at your side with a glass of wine in hand.  ‘’Tis the season to celebrate, Emsi.���
‘I am, really.  I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’  The smile you gave her was the first genuine one since you left the limo.  She looked beautiful with her hair in a stylish up do, the figure hugging evening gown giving you hope that there was still a waist after having a baby.  ‘You look gorgeous, by the way.’
‘So do you, positively radiant.  May I?’  She wasn’t the first person tonight to touch your bump, but she was the first to ask permission.  There were many reasons you loved her and this was one of them.
‘Sure.  They’re sleeping now though, I think.  No bubble parties here.’  You rubbed your hand lovingly over your stomach, Anna’s hand joining yours.
‘I still can’t believe that not only did you manage to land the demon CEO but that you’re having his baby.’  She shook her head.  ‘We should do an episode of you for Miracle Finder, because you are definitely a miracle worker!’
You laughed as you saw Minor and Kiki heading towards you.  ‘Honestly it feels like a miracle.’  You agreed as Minor broke through the crowd first.
‘There ain’t no party like a bump groping party!’  He sang, both hands hitting your stomach as soon as he was in range.  ‘How long now, boss?’
‘Four weeks and two days.’  You confirmed.  You had not begun counting the minutes yet but it was getting close.
‘And you still aren’t sharing what you’re having?’  Minor leant into you with a hopeful look.
‘We don’t even know.  We want it to be a surprise for both of us too.’
‘Is he kicking?’  Kiki nudged Minor aside with his hip, placing her hand on the spot Anna had just withdrawn from.
‘We don’t know it’s a he.’  You patiently reminded her.
‘I say it is, and I have good money riding on it in the office pool.’
‘You have a pool going?’  You groaned, looking to Anna for confirmation.
She shrugged.  ‘We have to keep you in our thoughts somehow.’
Across the room, Victor watched you laughing with your colleagues.  It was good to see you having fun, as you had been so bored since you gave up working full time.  You still consulted by phone or video call, but you missed the personal interactions.  He had never understood when people said a pregnant woman looked like she was glowing, but watching you chat animatedly with your team he got it, he truly did.  You were effervescent and beautiful, your hair gleamed, skin like porcelain, the curve of your body as it cradled the new life inside you…currently being manhandled by more than one of your staff.  A bitter tang burned up his throat as he watched, completely ignoring the board member he had been talking to, and he stepped away with only a brief excuse me.  He put his glass on a passing tray, untouched as he wanted his wits about him for your sake, and nodded his head in greeting as people tried to get his attention while he crossed the enormous ballroom.  He was in reach of you, heard a laugh leave your lips as your smile brightened at whatever your colleague had said.  It eased the jealous feeling in his gut and just for a moment he took the time to admire how beautiful you were.  And you were his.
‘Victor, darling!’
Closing his eyes he let out a breath through his nose at the feminine voice calling him, close enough to let him know he wouldn’t get away with ignoring it.  He turned, an impassive look on his face, planning on ending this conversation as quickly as possible.  ‘Chic.’
The starlet was wearing a figure hugging dress that plunged low, the split up one leg letting him know she had most likely had to have forgone underwear, not that she would have given the matter a second thought.  ‘I haven’t seen you in some time.  Where have you been hiding yourself?’  She hooked her arm over his as though it were the most natural thing in the world, drawing her body close to his as she stroked her other hand down his shirt front.
‘I haven’t been hiding anywhere.  You, on the other hand, have been working abroad for the last year.  I didn’t realise you were back.  Nor that you’d be here this evening.’  In truth, he was barely able to contain his disinterest and remain professional.  Polite wasn’t something he had ever been with Chic, civil perhaps, but her desire to use him for his position and body put his back up.
‘If you’d known, what would you have done?’  She gushed, leaning her breasts against his forearm.
‘Changing my number sounds like a good start.’
The sound of enticing laughter turned your head, as it did the rest of your group and others in the area.  Chic stood close to Victor, her body pinning his arm between them in a manner meant to draw his attention to her.  In that dress you could hardly miss her.
You saw Victor’s jaw clench in a gesture you realised.  He didn’t want to make a scene but he was giving her the chance to back away before he took matters into his own hands.  Victor’s mind and tongue had always been his best weapons and you had no doubt that he would leave no doubt as to his feelings.  You had no idea whether he was invested in any of Chic’s projects, but you would hate for him to damage a possible business relationship.  Especially if you could intervene and save him the job.
‘I think I have to go rescue my fiancé.’  You rolled your eyes comedically at the group before excusing yourself and heading straight to Victor’s side.
‘Here you are, Victor.’  You smiled sweetly at him, making sure to rest your hands on your bump to emphasise it more.
‘Excuse us, we were in the middle of something.’  Chic glared at you, the venom in her words almost tangible.  She began to turn her back to you, but Victor gave you a small smile, knowing you were giving him not only an excuse to escape but the opportunity to break the news to her himself.
‘You remember Emsi, right?’  Victor took a large step away from Chic, detangling himself from her grasp as he curved his arm around you and rested his hand on top of one of yours.  ‘Are you feeling tired, beautiful?  Do you want to head home?  Our baby needs its mommy to take care of herself.’
Even from the corner of your eye as Victor pressed a lingering kiss to the edge of your mouth, you could see Chic pale, her perfectly painted lips falling open.
‘Your…baby?’  Her voice echoed the disgust in her eyes as you both turned to her.  ‘Don’t tell me you stooped to…’
‘If you have something to say about my fiancee, by all means do, but your next movie depends on a substantial amount of funding from LFG and I would hate to have to withdraw that due to a differences of opinion.’
Chic’s mouth flapped for a moment as Victor drew you even closer to him, his hand taking yours deliberately to show off your engagement ring.  You knew he had deliberately steered the decision to her.  She would either throw it all away because she was acting like a spoilt child who had lost her favourite toy, or she would use her common sense to turn things around.  You were grateful when she took the latter.  ‘Con…congratulations.  When…how?’
‘We’ve been together for some time.  It’s been in the press but I guess you didn’t realise, having been so busy with your own work.’  Victor replied in such a way he implied she was self-absorbed and it took all your willpower not to laugh out loud.
‘Right.’  She nodded, obviously shaken by this revelation, and took a step back.  ‘Well, I have to…have a good evening.’  And with that she was gone, her rapid steps loud even over the string quartet.
‘That was quite satisfying.’  Victor caressed your cheek with his knuckles.  ‘But would you like to leave?  You’ve been on your feet for some time now.’
‘Actually, I’d like to stay a little longer.’  You grinned.  ‘I’m kind of enjoying showing off the fact that I landed the most eligible bachelor in Loveland City.’
Victor chuckled low in his throat, pressing his lips to your temple in a soft kiss.  ‘Dummy.’  He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, before leading you into the crowd, not so that you could show him off, but so that he could laud over the entire party that he felt like the most blessed man in the land.
I have another chapter planned for Victor’s (belated) birthday, but I’m not sure when I’ll get through it!  Thank you for bearing with me though!
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parachutingkitten · 4 years ago
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A Totally and Completely Uneventful Night
The beginnings of a short little dewlet fic for y’all. Hope you enjoy!
“No! No way am I doing that!” Louie stood up. “Getting there early, organization, teamwork, dealing with tape. No way! Louie is out!” he announced as he started towards the door.
“I already signed you up,” Huey stopped him, crossing his arms. 
“Come on guys!” Webby rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fun! All of us working together, setting up decorations, having some best friend bonding time! Plus, then we’ll be the first ones there!”
“Why the hell would you want to be the first ones to arrive at prom?” Louie squinted at her.
“Extra time at the photo booth!” Webby smiled.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask,” Violet sighed. “But I’m head of the planning committee, and the only other member so far is Huey,”
He smiled at the mention of his name. 
“And this is my big project for senior year! So I really need this to work out, and so many things have already fallen through, I just…” she sighed. “I really need this to work.”
Dewey had been unusually silent for the duration of this discussion and he wasn’t exactly sure of the reason. He speculated it might be a combination of things. He hadn’t slept especially well the previous night, and he hadn’t had breakfast yet, both of which meaning his energy level was far below par, but most likely the main factor was Violet herself. It had been a while since he’d really talked with her. Senior year had been taxing on both of their schedules and neither of them really ever had the time to just slow down and hang out. And it hadn’t been until this moment, when Violet forced upon him the concept of prom, a signifier of the end of senior year, that Dewey realized just how much he had missed talking with her. He admired Violet quite a lot, and seeing her standing before him at her breaking point really made his heart ache in a way he had never quite felt before.
“We’ve got your back Vi,” Dewey assured her. “Come on, I mean the duck boys can handle a little party set up, right Louie?”
“I hate it!” he started. “I hate it so much! You have to try and roll up the tape to stick stuff on the wall, but you don’t stick it to itself right the first time, so it ends up in this lopsided ball, and you try to unstick it from itself, but then it’s lost its sticky-ness! But even if you do get it right the first time, the piece is always too small to actually hold anything, so you just have to throw it away! So then you start overcompensating, and you run out of tape, and you have to go around asking people for tape! Do you have tape? Do you have tape?! No! No one has tape! Because they all made the same mistake you did!” Louie’s hands clenched into spastic fists as a few heavy breaths went threw him.
“How about we find a non-tape related task to delegate Louie to.” Huey whispered.
“What’s the theme this year anyway?” Dewey asked. “I don’t remember it being announced.”
“A Night in Paris,” Violet answered, a smile gracing her face.
“Paris!” Webby squealed, grabbing onto Dewey’s arm. “It’s so atmospheric!”
“And it’s a lot of work.” Violet pulled out notecards from her back pocket, uncoupling them from the colorful paper clip that held them together. “Here’s a reminder of the date and time you’ll need to be there along with a list of things that it would be really helpful if you could bring.” She started passing them out to everyone in the room, Dewey looking down at the small pink card. So much information in such little space. “And keep in mind, as representatives of the planning committee, you will be expected to follow the dress code.”
“Oh my gosh!” Webby jumped. “We should totally go together, and then we could dress up all matching! We could make our outfits out of that fancy flip sequin fabric-!”
“I’ve added a rule banning excessive sequins specifically for you,” Violet stopped her, handing her a card. “I don’t want anyone being blinded.” 
“Well… I guess we could just do normal sequins,” Webby reasoned. 
“Wait-” Dewey broke his train of thought, his eyes turning to Webby as his mind caught up with her proposal. “You want to go with me?”
“Well yeah,” Webby chuckled. “That’s what best friends are for, right? I mean, no one wants to go to prom by themselves.”
Dewey looked at her a moment trying to figure out what it was about this that felt wrong. Webby was in fact his best friend- always had been- and going to prom with friends had always been his plan. Not to mention the idea of showing up in matching blue sequins was definitely alluring, but something just felt off. His eyes drifted across the room, trying to look for his answer.
“What about everyone else though?”
“Oh Louie’ll be fine.” Webby shrugged it off. “No offense Louie.”
“None taken,” he shook his head.
Dewey stared at them a moment, still confused. “What about everyone else though?”
“Huey and I are going together!” Violet smiled. “Mainly so that we can get their extra early for more set up time.”
“Plus-!” Huey chimed in. “If one of us gets pulled away for managing duties, we’re not abandoning anyone!” 
They shared a confident high five, Dewey still a bit dumbfounded. 
“Hold on, let me get this straight, the first one of us to get a date to prom… was Huey?” Everyone glanced around at each other, letting the information process. “This is not at all how I thought senior prom would go,” he mumbled. “I mean Louie going alone isn’t actually that unexpected, but Huey… that’s weird.”
“I don’t know, I think we can find a date for Louie.” Webby crossed her arms.
“You really don’t have to-” Louie broke in.
“Maybe you could go with Lena!”
Louie chuckled. “Lena’s like 14.”
“Lena’s immortal,” Webby rolled her eyes.
“Lena is out of town for the next two weeks.” Violet interjected. “So my sister will not be going with anyone, none the less Louie.”
“No offense Louie.” Webby chimed in.
“Again, none taken,” He shrugged.
Dewey glanced around the room a bit skeptically, still feeling a bit uneasy about the set up. “Well, I guess everyone’s set then,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I’m so worked up about it.”
“You’re nervous about prom, big deal!” Webby teased him. “Come on, let’s go figure out our outfits!” 
Dewey followed her as she headed towards the door, still a bit dazed, perplexed about what it was that felt off. 
“I’m thinking we do blue and pink because, you know, it’s us.” Webby rolled her eyes. “But also, that gives everything a cotton candy kind of feel, which I think will really set us apart.”
“You sure nothing feels weird about this Webs?” Dewey stopped her before they could leave. “I don’t know, something’s wrong. It just doesn’t quite feel like the quintessential high school experience I’ve always imagined, you know?” 
Webby stopped, turning into the room again. “Actually, I think I might know your problem.”
“What?” He asked. 
“There’s no drama.” She shrugged. “Think about it, in every prom movie ever there’s always someone who needs to work up the nerve to ask someone, or their crush is going with someone else, or maybe they just broke up, so they both have to find rebound dates, only to end up together again by the end of the night.”
“That’s it!” Dewey jumped. “How is it that this all worked out so smoothly?! There’s no way. There’s got to be someone who’s hiding something.”
Webby leaned in, both of their eyes turning to the room. “Who do you think it is?” she whispered. 
“It could be Huey.” Dewey offered. “I mean, he seems like the quirky awkward protagonist that could have girl problems.” 
“True, true,” Webby nodded in agreement. 
“But it could totally be Louie. Not going with anyone. I mean, who wants to go by themselves? Is he waiting to ask someone special?”
Webby gasped, turning to him. “Goselyn!”
Dewey smiled, turning to Webby, struggling to keep his tones hushed. “Because she’s in a different school district! He would need special permission to get her to come, so he’s worried about even asking, because it’d be such a big commitment!”
“Or maybe he was secretly going to her prom,” Webby offered. “but all this set up stuff puts a wrench in his plans, that’s why he's so opposed to helping out!”
“Oh my gosh, what if he pulls one of those ‘tries to go to both at the same time, but ends up revealing himself in the end’ things.”
“And by the end of the night we all know about their secret love!”
“Oh my gosh, it’s all so real!” Dewey turned to look back at his brother, now slumped over on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
“Louie ever shown signs of liking Goselyn before?”
“No,” Dewey shook his head. “But like, what’s the other option? We have a normal prom? I don’t think so.”
“Come on, let’s bolt before we get too suspicious.” Webby nudged him, opening the door again, both of them slipping through and giggling as they headed towards Webby’s room. 
“Man, I am so excited for prom now! Matching outfits, set up shenanigans, drama, secret love, we’re going to have everything!”
“I’m just happy for Violet.” Webby brought down the tone as they reached their destination. “She’s going to throw the most boss prom the world has ever seen. She really deserves a win to round out the year.”
“Yeah,” Dewey sighed. “Violet’s like a superhuman, she does absolutely everything and supper well too. It’s kind of crazy when you think about it.”
“I still don’t know how she does it,” Webby shrugged, hopping onto her bed.
“I feel kind of bad. We were really close junior year, even early this year, but we’ve both been so booked recently I feel like I haven’t talked with her in ages.”
Dewey plopped down next to her on the bed, Webby raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t even know you guys were that good of friends.”
“Really?” Dewey chuckled. “We used to hang out all the time. We did lunch together last semester, we would carpool during the winter, she helped me with my homework all the time. We’d even get ice cream after school sometimes if we were both staying after for musical rehearsals.”
“She wasn’t in the musical last year, was she?”
“She was in the orchestra.” Dewey corrected her.
“...huh.” Webby sighed.
“What?”  
“I guess I just wouldn’t pin you as two to hang out one on one.” Webby straightened up, now more interested in the conversation.
“You kidding? Violet’s great! She’s so smart and fun and she’s down for literally anything. I swear we could talk for hours and not run out of things to say.” Dewey could see Webby was still a bit baffled. “I don’t know, I just always feel so... happy when I’m around her. It’s kind of infectious, you know?”
Webby’s eyes narrowed as a smile graced her face. “...yeah.”
“You’re totally right though.” Dewey leaned back, laying down. “She deserves the absolute best prom night possible.” His eyes traced the outline of the glow stars stuck to Webby’s ceiling, lost in a bit of a daze for a moment.
“Dewey?” Webby started.
“Yeah?”
“... Nothing,” she sighed. “I just think we might have more drama than you’re anticipating."
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